Internet Mage Professor-Chapter 95: The Money Demon

Nolan stood there, in the center of the classroom, eyes still slightly wide, lips barely curled into an awkward half-smile. He rubbed the back of his neck, let out a light cough, and muttered, "Long time no see."

His voice echoed like a lonely wind through a canyon.

The classroom—grand and prestigious with columns of mana-crystal inlays and floating banners of each student’s respective chosen Academy factions—fell into an unbearable silence.

And then came the reaction.

A slow murmur at first. Whispers like leaves rustling in suspicion.

"...Wait."

"...That’s him, right?"

"...No way."

"...It can’t be."

Then it began to swell. A storm building on the horizon.

"Why is he here?!"

"Where’s Instructor Granfire?!"

"How is it him again? Don’t tell me he passed the assessment yesterday too! No! This can’t be happening! This can’t be!"

Nolan just rolled his eyes.

"Did they demote him? Is this a punishment?!"

A red-robed boy stood up, trembling with indignation. "We were promised Granfire would teach us! The Granfire! Not the— the scammer professor Nolan again!"

Another student, a tall girl with gold-plated gauntlets, narrowed her eyes. "This is madness! This cannot be! Where is bell Ed Granfire?! Please where are you, teacher?"

"And this guy..." someone chimed in with a disgusted snort, "...made us ride a ghost car through the Forest of Mourners while blasting weird music!"

"Don’t forget the undead prank!"

"Oh god, the fake necromancer. I still have nightmares about that zombie driver."

Chaos bloomed.

The room erupted with overlapping voices, questions, disbelief, horror.

Chairs scraped against the floor. Students began forming informal protest huddles, trying to rationalize how, in all the realms, Nolan had ended up as their instructor again.

Some openly panicked.

"Did Granfire die?! Was there an ambush?!"

"Did Nolan challenge him to a duel and win?!"

"He must’ve cheated. He has to be blackmailing someone in the upper administration."

"Maybe Granfire found out he was cursed and ran away..."

"No way, Granfire’s a legend! They must’ve reassigned him somewhere more important and dumped this guy on us!"

"I’m too young to waste my potential on this con artist!"

Nolan stared at them with a deadpan expression, mouth twitching ever so slightly at the corners.

What are these little gremlins saying? All he did was show them the relaxing car ride video zombie prank. Why are they inventing things in their heads?

Ride a ghost car through the Forest of Mourners while blasting weird music.

Zombie driver?

They are just inventing nonsense in their heads due to the fear they experienced last time, which probably left them traumatized.

Yes, of course, Nolan knew them.

These students—his first class of the day—were not Calien, Erik, Selin, or any of the other poor souls who’d come to trust his unconventional ways.

No, this batch was... fresh. The only time he taught them was during a lesson, haha! A lesson that made them shit their pants.

Well, they had been helpful for the mana crystal payment.

For a brief second, Nolan thought about the others—his weird little group of misfits who’d somehow survived their introduction to his "teaching style." He almost missed them. Almost.

But with a sigh, he moved on.

"Oh, come on," Nolan said, finally raising his voice just enough to cut through the mayhem. "Stop overreacting. It’s just me... Why do you all act like I am the villain here?"

The classroom buzzed with electric tension as Teacher Nolan looked at the students lazily when he said those words.

Crossing her arms defiantly, Emily agreed. "Yes! You are the villain here, Professor Nolan! What you did to us was too much! We will never forget those moments!"

James, nodding vigorously, added, "Exactly! You’ve turned our lives into a horror movie!"

Sophia threw her hands up in exasperation and helplessness. "Seriously! That is indeed a villain move. We are just kids!"

Leaning back in his chair with a demonic glare, the student Liam said, "You know, Professor Nolan, every good story needs a villain. Congratulations, you’ve earned the title!"

Nolan gave a casual shrug, ignored them, and gestured toward the instructor’s desk, like a host welcoming guests to a party they definitely didn’t want to attend.

"Are there any more complaints?" he asked.

But when the students in front wanted to speak, Nolan ignored them. ƒгeewёbnovel.com

"And just like always," he added, "pay me if you want to be taught."

The students were silent.

Incredibly silent.

They couldn’t believe what he had just done and what he had just said.

Then—

"Here we go again!"

"Ugh! It is him! It’s the money grabber professor Nolan!"

"The notorious pay-to-learn demon!"

"The Crystal Vulture!"

"He charges Mana Crystals to even breathe near his chalkboard!"

"I heard he makes you pay for your own answers during exams!"

"Someone stops him before he charges us for listening!"

The classroom erupted again, this time louder, angrier.

There was less panic now and more outrage.

It was known, the students spread in the academy, that Instructor Nolan operated on a different kind of economy—where every question asked had a price, and even attendance points could be bought with enough Crystals.

A student in the back actually pulled out a wallet and began counting their supply in defeat.

Nolan, unfazed, used his pinky to clean out his ear, inspected the wax like it held cosmic secrets, then blew it off with a satisfied puff.

"Why do you all seem to hate me so much?" he asked nonchalantly. "I’m probably the reason you all passed yesterday’s assessment."

Several students stiffened.

Another wave of silence washed over the class.

A shared, haunting memory flickered behind every eye.

The assessment.

The fake undead.

The suspiciously relaxing vehicle.

The way the trees had blurred outside the ghost car’s windows, moving just a little too wrong. The faint, eerie music. That driver... that driver who drove that car in the forested area. The jarring serenity. The unnatural smoothness. How that one particular zombie had appeared.

It felt demonic and humiliating!

it haunted them more than any battlefield ever could.

Nolan clapped his hands once, drawing them back to the present.

"Seriously," he said, almost sincerely now. "Why’re you crying like you saw a ghost?"

The irony was not lost on the students.

A girl near the front desk actually teared up.

"We did," she whispered.

"We all did," another muttered.

And they weren’t talking about undead anymore.

They were talking about him.

Nolan tilted his head and examined the crowd. Then, in a rare moment of disarming genuineness, he softened his voice and said, "By the way... congratulations."

The class blinked.

"For what?"

Nolan gave a crooked smile, half real, half lazy. "For passing the assessment yesterday."

A few jaws dropped.

Another student’s grip on their desk loosened as the tension they hadn’t even realized they were holding began to unwind.

It was hard to tell if it was relief, gratitude, or confusion.

But Nolan didn’t wait for a response.

He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a pack of cards labeled "Nolan’s Premium Curriculum Tier List" and tossed it onto the desk with a heavy thump.

"Now," he said, voice returning to its usual blend of mischief and menace. "Let’s talk about your lessons."