Internet Mage Professor-Chapter 80: Class Ends

The students kept playing, and the room was bursting with noise—explosions from the simulation, clanging weapons, screeching sound effects, mixed with rowdy laughter and relentless trash talk.

"I hit him first! You saw that, right?"

"Bro, you were hiding behind that barrel the whole time!"

"I was STRATEGIZING, okay?!"

"Strategizing my ass! That Bloater was about to sneeze and you alt-tabbed in fear!"

Laughter echoed like waves crashing into each other, full of light and joy, growing louder, overlapping until it became impossible to know who said what.

They weren’t even following the objective anymore—they were just ganging up on the Bloater in the most absurd ways imaginable.

"Let’s all use nothing but kicks!"

"Wait, who’s the guy using his head as a weapon?! That’s illegal, but I love it!"

They hollered and screamed and yelled instructions that didn’t make sense, threw mock commands like military generals, and ran around the simulated ruins like wild children on a playground.

One tried beating the Bloater with a frying pan simulation object.

Another kept dodging in circles while singing a parody of a popular hero theme song.

The Bloater, once a feared and frustrating enemy that had crushed them repeatedly, now looked more like a training dummy for stress relief.

They took turns humiliating it, knocking it down and cheering when it fell, only to wait for it to respawn and do it all over again.

Nolan sat quietly, still watching the screen of 27 Seconds Later from the side while keeping a half-eye on the class.

It wasn’t really about watching the movie anymore—it was to help his Mana Specialist rank progress incrementally.

The system had required it, so he followed through, even if the film had grown repetitive by now.

And then, without warning, a bright translucent window blinked to life in front of him.

Ding!

You have twenty seconds to end your class.

Internet access will be cut off.

Nolan sighed. "Again?"

Just like yesterday.

And now today.

The internet only worked inside this classroom—this tightly confined area regulated by his strange ’instructor privileges’ and linked to his recent breakthrough into Mana Specialist 3rd Rank.

Outside, the world was back to its standard magical restrictions, and the ’internet cheat’ as he called it, was completely off-limits.

He muttered under his breath, more to the walls than to anyone else. "If only I could use this thing outside..."

But the countdown was ticking.

He stood up and raised his voice just enough to cut through the chaos.

"Alright, class! The session’s ending soon!"

Immediately, the students groaned in disappointment.

"Aww, nooo!"

"Can’t we pay you more, sir?"

"Just a little longer!"

"Come on, just five more minutes! The Bloater hasn’t cried yet!"

But Nolan chuckled and shook his head. "I’m exhausted," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I might not have enough mana left to keep the simulations stable. We’ve pushed the limits."

The students understood. They nodded, still visibly disappointed but accepting.

"Okay, sir," one said with a small pout.

"Thanks for today," another added with a smile.

Nolan smiled back, looking at each of them as he asked, "Did you enjoy it? Did you get what you were looking for?"

A beat passed. And then all thirteen students nodded, nearly in sync.

One of them, the loudest, grinned and exclaimed, "Sir, we annihilated that fat bastard! That Bloater? We got our revenge!"

Another chimed in, "I hit him with a table leg while upside-down!"

"And I used that glitchy weapon! The one you said not to use? Yeah, that one! Guess what? It WORKED!"

"I finished it with a jump kick to the head!"

"I turned my back on it and walked away while it exploded! Like a hero story!"

They all burst into laughter, a chaotic symphony of stories spilling out at once.

Nolan could barely catch half of what they were saying, but every word was packed with excitement, pride, and this unshakable satisfaction.

"I beat him with one hand, sir! Literally, my other hand was eating snacks!"

"I did it with my eyes closed! Ask anyone!"

"Bloater PTSD? Not anymore!"

They teased, exaggerated, relived every moment like kids coming back from a trip to the theme park.

They mimicked the Bloater’s death scream in increasingly dramatic renditions, from high-pitched squeals to operatic falsettos.

Eventually, the adrenaline began to wear off, and silence crept in—subtle at first, then stronger.

A few glances shifted toward the time hovering above the screen.

One of them looked at the exit.

Another rubbed his arm awkwardly.

One of the girls said softly, "It’s a pity it ends now."

"Yeah," someone else agreed. "Feels like we just met him yesterday..."

Nolan stayed quiet, watching them.

"And now, we gotta say goodbye." ƒгeewebnovёl.com

He nodded slowly. "That’s how life goes."

The students nodded too, though a heaviness settled over their shoulders. It wasn’t the abrupt, loud sadness of children crying—but the deeper, quieter kind.

The kind that didn’t always know how to show itself properly.

And Nolan? He understood that kind of sadness very well.

So, he stepped forward, leaned against the wall, and spoke with a softer tone than usual. "You know," he began, "in life... you’ll meet people, go places, and have moments that feel like they’re meant to last forever."

They looked up at him.

"But nothing ever stays in one place—not really. Everything moves. Everything changes. You will change. Life will take you in different directions, and sometimes that’ll be hard. You’ll lose people, miss opportunities, and feel like you’re starting over again and again."

The room was still. Not a single whisper.

"But that’s okay. That’s how it works. Life isn’t about finding one perfect place and clinging to it. It’s about taking those moments—the ones that made you laugh, cry, scream, the ones where you kicked the Bloater’s ass—and carrying them forward. Growing from them. Using them. Remembering them when you feel lost."

His voice lowered just slightly.

"So promise me something. Promise me you’ll keep moving forward. Don’t stay stuck. Don’t freeze in one moment. Don’t camp in one spot. Even if you fail, even if everything feels impossible... take the next step."

He looked at each of them.

"Promise me."

They nodded, one by one. "We promise."

"...Ehh, that didn’t sound too sincere," Nolan teased with a mock frown. "You guys practicing your NPC lines or what?"

Laughter broke the tension again.

And then, as if on cue, one by one, the students walked up to him.

Hugged him.

"Teacher, we’ll miss you."

"Teacher, we’ll miss the games."

"I know we have other things to do tomorrow, but I wish we could keep doing this."

"This was... this was the most fun I’ve had in years."

"I thought I hated simulations. But maybe I just hadn’t had the right teacher."

Nolan didn’t say much. Just smiled. Nodded. Patted their heads or gave an awkward thumbs-up.

His chest felt tight, but in a way that was good. In a way that told him something meaningful had happened here, however brief.

And then... it was time.

All thirteen students turned toward the exit, quiet now.

But then, in perfect unison, they paused.

They turned back.

Lined up.

And then turned their bodies fully to face him.

Their eyes met his.

They bowed, deep and slow.

"Thank you, Teacher Nolan," they said in one voice—sincere, grounded, overflowing with gratitude.

Nolan didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

Just watched them as they stood up, turned around again, and walked toward the door—this time, for real.