On the other hand, Nolan exhaled as the final wave of monsters crumbled before his virtual blade.
Blood, chaos, and the grotesque rhythm of slaughter—it had all beco routine.
This was the sa infected ga he'd played back on Earth.
The sa one he'd cleared twenty tis before.
Easy. Boring. Predictable.
Nothing ever changed.
He yanked the knife from the last enemy's twitching skull and wiped the imaginary gore on his pants.
The scene imdiately dissolved into static.
You killed the last infected boss.
Ga over.
But this ti... sothing was different.
His breath ca slower.
A cool sensation spread from deep within his chest, like chilled water seeping into his soul.
Almost imdiately, a strange hum crawled through his spine.
For a mont, it felt like he was back on Earth—standing alone in his run-down apartnt, surrounded by unpaid bills, half-empty coffee cups, and unfinished lesson plans.
But as he rose to his feet, everything shifted.
His body felt lighter. Not just in flesh, but in spirit—like invisible chains had slipped from his bones.
He blinked, tilting his head. What the hell was this?
A tremor rippled through him, blurring his vision. He staggered back.
Then—
Swoosh!
Magic exploded from his skin.
White, silver, and blue particles spiraled around him in a dazzling cyclone of light.
The classroom walls quivered.
The wooden floor cracked underfoot.
Nolan's eyes widened.
His mana core—once sluggish and tight—pulsed like it had been reborn.
He felt it.
His rank as a Mana Knight was rising.
Fast.
Fifth Stage... Sixth... Seventh.
His heartbeat thundered.
Eighth.
The walls shimred with a particle of white dust.
The air trembled.
And then—BOOM!
Ninth Stage.
His mind splintered into pure sensation.
It was like chugging ice-cold soda on a blistering sumr day. His nerves sparked. His veins buzzed like overcharged circuits.
A fresh wave of mana burst through him like fireworks exploding in his lungs.
He stumbled back, shouting, "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"
And then—he grinned. Unhinged.
"Did I just... rank up?"
No. This wasn't just a rank-up.
This was an ascent. A surge. A cheat code slamd into reality.
"What the hell!? Is this internet cheat really capable of this? To rank up in the real world as I ranked in the ga?"
He stared at his trembling hands, then at the cracked floor.
"Holy moly."
Laughter erupted from him, loud and wild.
"I'm a goddamn cheater!"
Excitent surged through him. He leapt straight up.
"YESSSS!"
Too high.
SMACK!
"FUCK!" Nolan yelled as his forehead collided with the stone ceiling.
He crashed down into a student's desk, shattering it into splinters.
The air rushed from his lungs—but he barely noticed the pain.
Rolling free of the wreckage, he clutched his head and laughed harder. "I'm invincible! If this keeps up, I'll be a Master by tomorrow!"
He couldn't stop grinning. He'd found his edge.
Forget rank-up manuals. Forget old teachers swinging wooden sticks.
All he needed was simple:
Buy the right ga. Play the ga. Rank up in the ga.
Because when he ranked up in the ga...
He ranked up in real life.
"Mana crystals," he whispered, eyes gleaming. "All I need now... is currency."
He jumped again, pumping celebratory squats and jabbing the air like a prizefighter—
Until—
A burst of silver light exploded beside him.
Nolan froze mid-punch.
The air vibrated.
From the swirling cluster of magic particles, the grim, floating visage of Principal Duldor erged.
Oh, shit.
Nolan froze—rigid as a soldier caught red-handed eating all the rations. Did the old fossil see what just happened?
The Principal's voice cracked through the air like thunder laced with disappointnt.
"Teacher nad Nolan."
Nolan swallowed hard. "Yes, sir?"
Duldor's tone dropped, heavy and final.
"You have failed the assessnt."
Nolan blinked. "...What?"
"I had hoped you would pass the test. But since arriving here, you've contributed nothing to the Academy. You've ignored lesson plans, avoided ntoring, and worst of all... nearly all of your students have failed their practical trials."
Nolan exhaled in relief—thank God, the old man hadn't noticed the power boost.
Still... damn.
He scratched his cheek, sheepish. "Yeah, well... that was true. Before why are you failing today? Why not tomorrow?"
But Duldor wasn't finished.
"You failed to inspire even the weakest minds. Your teaching was shallow. Your mana manipulation, crude. So students said your sessions were confusing. Others—traumatizing. Do you understand the weight of failure in this city? This Academy is no place for daydrears."
Nolan's grin slowly faded.
Each word hit like a brick to the chest. Because Duldor wasn't wrong.
He had been ssing around.
He'd barely scraped by, faking it as a Mana Specialist.
He didn't really know what he was doing... not back then.
That was before.
Before the internet gift.
Before he realized Earth's gas could empower him.
Now? Now he could beco anything.
Duldor's eyes narrowed.
"Normally, we'd have expelled you already. We won't even wait for tomorrow... But..."
Nolan's ears perked up.
The old man raised a trembling finger.
"There is... a sliver of opportunity."
He coughed once, dry and ragged.
"One last class. One last room. Room 33. If you can make at least half of the students there pass tomorrow's Mana Knight assessnt, you'll be accepted as a full Mana Specialist. Fail... and your na will be erased from our rolls."
Nolan squinted. "Room 33?"
Duldor ignored the question.
"Do not take this lightly. These students are... not normal. They've been rotated through every class. No one wants to teach them. They are chaotic, untad—and dangerous."
Nolan scowled.
"Wait. Why do you sound like you're not giving a chance—you're throwing into a dungeon full of mini-bosses?"
Duldor didn't respond. But there's was a painted guiilty expression on his face.
Suddenly, from the floor beside Nolan, a shadowy sludge slithered toward him—black, oily, wriggling like it had a mind of its own.
Nolan flinched back, but the sludge surged up his arm too fast.
Cold and sticky, it coiled around him—then with a sharp hiss, it dropped sothing heavy into his palm.
A key.
Black, tallic, etched with a silver 33.
Nolan stared at it, then back at Duldor's fading form.
The Principal's voice echoed, dissolving into silver mist.
"Room 33. Teach them. Make them pass. Or leave this Academy."
Poof.
Gone.
Silence fell.
Nolan looked down at the key. His hand trembled, just slightly.
Then he exhaled, dry and resigned.
"...Fuck... I'm out of this Academy."
—
anwhile—
On the upper floor of the Academy, Principal Duldor squinted into a crystal orb.
He wasn't hoping Nolan would succeed.
No teacher ever had.
Those students had driven away every Mana Specialist brave—or foolish—enough to try.
But their parents were stubborn ones, refusing to accept that their children weren't blessed.
Sending Nolan in was just him hoping that Nolan could scare them.
Duldor adjusted his glasses, ready to dismiss the matter—then he suddenly frowned.
Earlier, he had been certain Nolan was a Fifth-Stage Mana Knight. Weak. Barely worth the salary.
The only reason they'd kept him around was that no one else wanted to babysit mana-deficient rejects.
But now?
He couldn't sense Nolan's stage knights aura. At all.
He tapped the orb again, refining the detection spell, looking at Nolan.
Still nothing.
Years of honed mana sensitivity told him there should be sothing—a fluctuation, a ripple.
But it was silent.
Like Nolan no longer existed... or worse—like he had ascended so quickly, the spell hadn't caught up.
Duldor wiped his lenses slowly.
"...Lack of sleep," he muttered. "Too much paperwork. That's all."
He turned back to the growing pile of reports.
Noble families were arriving tomorrow. High-ranking ones—the type who could make or break the Academy's future.
They'd co to scout talent before the City Guard or Knight Corps claid them.
There was no ti to dwell on strange anomalies.
Still...
His eyes flicked back to the orb one last ti.
It shimred, then stilled.
Grim-faced, the Principal forced himself to move on.
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