Internet Mage Professor-Chapter 72: New strategy

Calien’s voice broke the heavy silence with an eagerness that seemed to fill the entire watchroom.

"Sir," he said, trying to keep it casual but failing to hide the tension in his tone, "can we try doing it together this time? Like... multiplayer?"

Nolan looked at him with a passive expression, sipping from his mug with half-lidded eyes, then slowly tilted his head as though considering the request with great seriousness.

"Hmmm," he said. "Alright. Do it."

The moment the words left his mouth, Nolan turned away slightly, his lips twitching into a grin so subtle it almost didn’t exist. But inside his mind, he was laughing. No—cackling with all his heart.

Heh... they think multiplayer makes it easier? Fools. They don’t even realize it makes things ten times harder. Not just because of enemy AI scaling, but the coordination—the pressure, the chaos of friendly fire, aggro stealing, bad positioning. A mess.

But he didn’t need to say any of that. They’d learn soon enough.

Calien, Selin, Ruvin, and Erik eagerly nodded, exchanging glances with a mix of nerves and excitement. The rest of the class began grouping up as well, forming parties of three or four. Whispers filled the room. Ideas. Quick plans. Silent agreements. A little hope, a little fire.

Nolan decided to stand behind Calien’s team. He leaned against the wall behind them, arms crossed, still holding his mug, his eyes focused on their screens.

Then, the world shifted.

One by one, the students logged in.

Inside the game, it was dusk again. Ash drifted in the air. Long shadows painted the walls.

Calien’s team spawned inside a crumbling alley, the sky above tainted with the flickering crimson of a setting sun behind thick clouds.

Wind blew through broken glass, and the moan of distant infected echoed through the streets like some ancient, dying chant.

"Ready?" Calien asked.

Selin loaded her knife. "Always."

Erik adjusted his gloves. "No dying, alright?"

"Save the hero speech," Ruvin muttered. "Let’s go."

They moved quickly, slipping between rusted vehicles and abandoned storefronts.

Two infected lurched around the corner, but Erik and Selin took them down cleanly—Selin stabbed one from behind the head, Erik parried and slit the throat of the other all the way up to the head too. Clean, swift, precise.

Nolan gave a single approving nod.

They threw a distraction to distract the other infected, and they finally reached the main building, the same structure from the movie. Broken signage still clung to its concrete facade.

A place that had once been a mall, or a shelter, maybe both. Now, just a nest.

They entered. First floor.

The infected poured from doorways. Screaming, screeching, clawing. Calien shouted, "Left flank!" and Ruvin spun, slicing one clean through the chest. Selin jumped over a desk and backstabbed another. Erik ducked under a lunge and buried his knife in its spine.

They moved like they’d trained together for years, even though they hadn’t.

Second floor. More infected. The stairs were narrow. One wrong move and they’d be overrun. They climbed fast, using furniture as cover, luring some away before dealing critical blows. A fire axe embedded in a wall was used by Ruvin to hack a path forward when the corridor became too tight. Sweat dripped down their real faces in the watchroom as their game avatars fought through the swarm.

Third floor. Quiet.

Then the ground trembled.

A deep growl shook the air. The bloater emerged from the hallway like a walking disease, its form pulsing with rage and tumors. It had more cysts than the one in the movie. Bigger, darker, some still fresh and wet. Steam rose off its body.

But the team didn’t panic.

They knew the trick.

"Alright," Calien said, gripping his knife tighter. "Just like in the movi—Just like our strategy."

Nolan would arch his brow.

"Bait the wide swing," Selin whispered.

"Make it twist," Erik nodded.

"And stab the seams when they stretch," Ruvin finished.

Nolan raised an eyebrow behind them, watching closely. He clicked his tongue once, then smirked faintly.

They moved.

Calien was first to bait it. He dashed forward, waved his arms, and then rolled to the side when the bloater swung a fist the size of a tree trunk. The movement twisted the beast’s upper body. Tumors strained near the shoulder.

Selin leapt in, blade flashing—stab!

The creature howled.

It’s working, they thought.

Erik slid under its swing and cut behind the knee. Ruvin followed up with another stab at the back seam.

It screamed again, shaking the walls. Dust fell from the ceiling.

Nolan clapped softly, mockingly. "Oooh. Very nice. Looks like someone’s been studying."

The four froze for a split second.

"Where’d you learn that, hmm?" Nolan asked casually, eyes twinkling. "That’s kind of a genius way of thinking..."

Then, there was silence.

Looking at him, Erik stammered, "U-uh... w-we figured it out, sir. From... our last game runs. Yeah. Trial and error."

Selin nodded vigorously. "We died a lot. And just... came up with a new strategy."

"Oh?" Nolan tilted his head. "I see. How clever."

The sarcasm was layered so gently it could be mistaken for praise. The students didn’t reply. They had bigger problems.

Because the Bloater wasn’t done.

It erupted with fury.

BOOM!

The ground cracked. The creature slammed its fists into the floor, sending a shockwave that staggered the team.

Selin lost balance—crash!—and slammed into a wall.

"SELIN!" Calien screamed, rushing forward.

The creature turned—its eyes, glowing like molten metal, locked on them. It twisted, roared, and hurled a fist. Calien ducked, barely.

"GET IT TO MOVE AGAIN!" Erik shouted.

They tried. They did the same pattern—bait, twist, strike. But now, it was adapting. It wasn’t swinging wide—it was stomping, pounding, charging with short bursts.

"Why isn’t it twisting!?" Ruvin yelled.

"It learned!" Selin gasped. "It’s not doing the same movements anymore!"

"WATCH OUT!!"

The bloater roared and flung a bile grenade—SPLASH!—it hit the floor near Ruvin. Gas erupted. Ruvin coughed, slowed.

The creature charged. Calien tried to intervene, but he was too late.

CRACK!

Ruvin was grabbed and slammed to the ground. A tumor-covered foot crushed his head with a wet pop.

"NO!!" Erik screamed.

They fought harder. Faster. But now they were panicking. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

Erik tried to bait it. It swung. He dodged—but it faked the movement and punched from the other side.

BOOM!

He went flying and hit the far wall. His health bar plummeted. He didn’t get up.

"ERIK!!" Selin screamed.

Calien stabbed the back. Once. Twice. The seam burst. But the bloater didn’t fall.

It turned, enraged, grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the ceiling.

"GAHHK—!!"

CRACK!

Dead.

Selin was the last.

She threw her knife. It struck the tumor on the eye. The creature reeled.

She ran forward, pulled her second blade, and jumped.

Mid-air, she aimed for the neck seam—

But it caught her.

Mid-air.

SNAP!

Her spine bent the wrong way. Her body folded, limp.

The screen froze.

A loud beep.

GAME OVER.

The watchroom was silent.

No one spoke. The air was thick.

Nolan chuckled to himself, muttering, "So much for teamwork." Then, louder, he said, "Well, guess even knowledge doesn’t always mean survival."

He sipped his now-cold mug and stared at the screen as the words glowed in red.

GAME OVER.