Internet Mage Professor-Chapter 70: Bloater again

That was the Bloater.

The same disgustingly swollen humanoid infected from the game. Tumors layered its body in mounds, as though it had grown cysts within cysts. Pus leaked from some. Others twitched. Its skin was split in places, revealing raw, gray-pink muscle underneath. Its face had no eyes—just a cavity where the infection had swallowed everything. Its mouth drooled constantly, its breathing sounded wet, labored.

"Leave! Get out of there! Please, just leave!"

Selin’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it quivered with urgency, panic catching in her throat. Her hands clutched her knees as she leaned forward, eyes locked on the screen.

Ruvin was right beside her, whispering frantically, "Don’t fight it... just run. That thing isn’t something you can kill!"

The other students joined the quiet chorus.

"Go, go, go! You don’t even know what that thing is!"

"Why are you still there?! You saw the infected wouldn’t even step into that plaza!"

"That’s not a good sign! That’s a red flag the size of a skyscraper!"

"Just leave! Please!"

Their desperation filled the room like a rising tide, breathless and thick.

They couldn’t take their eyes off the screen.

Each second that passed was a slow death sentence, each flicker of motion from the towering monstrosity dragging their hearts deeper into their throats.

They knew what this was.

It was the Bloater.

The same nightmarish creature Nolan had tasked them with defeating during their simulation tests.

The one none of them had managed to beat.

The one that didn’t bleed, didn’t flinch, didn’t die—no matter what they threw at it.

And now, these brave, clueless survivors in the movie—just characters, yet so real in this moment—were face-to-face with it.

The students of Class 9-A sat frozen in dread, gripping their desks like they were holding onto the edge of a cliff.

Whisper after whisper, plea after plea, they begged the characters on the screen to abandon their suicidal bravado.

"You can’t win this. It’s not just a monster—it’s a wall. A mountain."

"Run back to the mall. Back to your people. Your kids are waiting—your kids!"

"What about the woman with the twisted ankle? You promised to return."

"Your daughter... she needs those antibiotics."

"Don’t be heroes! Just live!"

But the men on-screen couldn’t hear their cries.

Behind them, a chair squeaked.

"Huh?"

It was Nolan.

The students stiffened, turning with stiff, robotic speed. Nolan sat up slightly, his brows drawn in mild curiosity.

"What are you all doing?" he asked lazily, one arm draped over the back of his chair, the other lifting a steaming cup of whatever horrid bitter drink he always had during Watchroom hours.

Nobody answered at first. Erik gulped, sweat forming at his temples. Selin blinked rapidly, and Ruvin gave a nervous side-eye to Calien, who only shrugged minutely in fear.

"Well?" Nolan prompted.

Ruvin forced a smile. "We’re, uh... we’re devising a strategy, teacher."

Nolan sipped his drink. "Oh?"

"Yes," Erik added quickly, nodding a bit too fast. "For the Bloater you assigned us to defeat. We’re still working through the data. Lots of data in our head and we are exchanging notes through whispers and not bother you. Yes. Yes. Tactical angles. Weapon allocation. Probability of resource drain and... uh... entry points. That’s it... That’s all of it."

"Mmm." Nolan leaned back. He felt weird, why do they feel awkward? His gaze didn’t leave them, but his expression remained unreadable. "Okay."

Their sighs were almost audible.

Nolan turned his attention back to the screen, the movement of the towering Bloater catching his peripheral vision.

He paused briefly and muttered to himself, "Where did that succubus go again...?"

His voice trailed off as he shook his head, dismissing the thought, and leaned forward, reengaging with the film.

On-screen, the men had begun firing. Round after round.

The camera cut from frantic faces to the muzzle flashes illuminating the creature’s grotesque form. Bullets pelted its mass like rain against stone. Its thick hide soaked up the punishment without a twitch.

The students’ breath caught again. They learned about ’Guns’, they cannot hurt the infecteds, they are only used to distract them.

"They’re wasting it... wasting all their ammo... they should only use it for the infected outside so they could leave safely."

"Yeah! They should’ve saved it! You can’t hurt that thing like that—"

"They don’t know. They don’t have Nolan’s insane cheat-mode knowledge."

"Why didn’t they just test it on something else first? Run simulations? Try a trap?!"

But of course, the characters had no such luxury. They weren’t playing a game. They were fighting for their lives in real-time, without save points or manuals or teacher intervention.

Gun after gun clicked empty.

The men backed up, switching to sidearms, then blades. The last of the Pathogen Knives gleamed under the harsh flicker of overhead lights.

The students of Nolan’s class broke into trembling silence.

"No. Don’t. Don’t use those. You’ll get close. It’s not safe!"

"Please. Retreat. Someone throw a flare, create a diversion, something!" freewёbnoνel.com

"They can’t hurt it. They can’t. We tried. Over and over. The knife doesn’t work on that thing."

"It’s not even alive in a normal way. You’re gonna die for nothing."

"Your wife... your little brother. You have people to live for."

"Go back. Go back, dammit!"

But their whispers fell on deaf ears.

On screen, the first man lunged.

His blade drove deep into the Bloater’s chest.

Nothing.

The Bloater didn’t even flinch. Its spongy, diseased hide absorbed the blade like wet clay. The man tried to pull it free—but the monster seized him with one sweeping arm.

The students’ eyes widened in horror.

"No. No—don’t—"

Another man screamed and charged.

Another failed strike.

Then another.

"Stop!" Selin cried in a breathless whisper. "Please! Why are you all still trying?! You saw it didn’t work! You saw!"

"They’re desperate," Calien whispered, voice strangled. "They think... they have to try. That something might work."

"Just leave, dammit!" Erik hissed. "Why do you think the infected wouldn’t even come near this place?! It’s not a safe zone—it’s a warning sign!"

"They can’t die here," Ruvin whispered, hands gripping his hair. "They’re needed back at the mall. That guy... his sister’s waiting with a broken leg. That other one has a wife that’s due to give birth in two weeks. They all have people."

"And they’ll never know what happened to them," Selin whispered bitterly.

Then came the moment they had dreaded.

The Bloater moved.

Not with rage.

Not even with speed.

With precision.

Its grotesque limbs coiled like thick vines, and it lashed out with a single, crushing blow.

The camera went white for a flash—and then panned down to the broken, bloodied body of one of the men. His head struck the ground with a sickening finality.

In the classroom—

"NOOOOOOOO!!"

Selin clutched her desk, eyes wide with grief.

Ruvin dropped his pen, burying his face in his hands.

Erik cursed and stood up, pacing in a panic.

Calien just stared, his voice a shattered echo. "He was the one... who sang that lullaby for his kid last night..."

Their silent grief turned into muffled sobs, clenched fists, and trembling breaths. They weren’t just watching a film anymore. They were watching good people die—people they had laughed with, rooted for, memorized.

And there was nothing they could do.

They knew what came next.

The Bloater wasn’t done.