Internet Mage Professor-Chapter 92: Shameless Professor

Professor Hein’s thoughts were still untangling themselves when Nolan’s voice slid in beside him like a whisper with weight.

"Did you know they were a scam too?"

The words struck clean through the fog of his reflection. Hein blinked, his shoulders twitching slightly from the jolt. He turned, caught in a moment of vulnerability, then slowly composed himself, hands adjusting the hem of his sleeves like it could smooth out the disarray inside his mind.

"Yes," Hein finally replied, steady but a shade quieter than usual. "Yes, I knew."

Nolan tilted his head, brow rising in quiet amusement, but he said nothing, inviting explanation with a gaze as calm as a still lake.

So Hein sighed—a long, reluctant breath—and began to speak.

"It started four weeks ago. One of the interns in the Artifact Registration Office came across a relic that, by all initial scans, registered as Class Three. However, it lacked any resonance signature.

"That’s impossible. Class Three artifacts always echo—unless they’re illusions. So we dug deeper. Then came more reports. Petty ones, scattered, dismissed by city enforcers. A girl bought a familiar egg that melted into slime two days later.

"A merchant acquired a ’fire blade’ that turned out to be tempered copper under a heat enchantment. Isolated incidents... until the same names kept popping up. Ravas. Eastbank Consortium."

Hein’s voice darkened.

"Principal Duldor suspected something larger. But the scam was clever—they moved locations, changed names, wore mana-concealing talismans. I was asked to investigate... because, well, no one expects someone like me. I rarely leave my quarters. I don’t teach classes anymore. People forget my face, even if they remember the title. I’m the perfect invisible man."

Nolan gave a slow, exaggerated nod, arms crossed and eyes amused. Hein ignored the theatrical motion and continued, words tumbling faster now that he had begun.

"I traced fluctuations in mana licenses. Anyone dealing in magical artifacts must register temporary merchant access if they want to display publicly. These scammers bought out short-term passes, but always under forged identities. Every time I came close, they slipped. Until today. I found a duplicate application cross-signed by a forged Eastbank sigil. It brought me here. I didn’t expect Ravas to be bold enough to show himself... but more than that, I didn’t expect you."

Hein finished, exhaling. His posture loosened, his voice dropping. "You kept playing. Even when the crowd grew bored. Even when the boxes were clearly fake. You watched them... but they didn’t watch you. That’s the difference. That’s what made me suspicious. And yet..."

He trailed off, unsure.

Nolan’s expression didn’t change. He just continued to nod and nod, almost too much, eyes wide and serene as though Hein were explaining a children’s bedtime story.

When the silence lingered long enough, Nolan finally spoke.

"You’re not afraid I’m one of them?"

The question wasn’t sharp, but it landed with precision.

Hein blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I mean," Nolan shrugged, "you just told me all that. But what if I were part of the scam? Wouldn’t that make you a liability?"

Hein opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

Nolan smirked.

"See?" he added, softly. "Why did you tell me all that?"

Hein stared at him, stunned. His words returned, faint and unsure. "I... don’t know."

A beat passed.

Then Nolan broke into a chuckle—a rich, bubbling sound that turned heads a few feet away. His eyes crinkled with mischievous delight. "Relax, old man. I’m not with them. Though, I must say, you make a terrifying spy."

Hein narrowed his eyes, still baffled.

"Well, how about this then," Nolan said, changing gears so fast the conversation lurched. "Give me your egg."

"What?"

"Give me the egg."

"Why would I do that?"

"You’re not going to use it. You know it won’t survive anyway. Come on, I saw your face earlier—you already gave up on it."

Hein’s mouth opened to retort but hesitated.

Yes... that was true.

That cursed egg had already been declared lifeless by two independent beast assessors. It had no future. Even its internal mana frequency was weak, inconsistent. Barely a flicker of life. As far as Hein was concerned, it was a memorial to a failure, not a prize.

Still, the way Nolan asked—so direct, so eager—it irritated him for reasons he couldn’t articulate.

"No," Hein said. "Why would I give you this?"

Nolan lit up, smiling wide like he’d anticipated that.

"Because," he said, drawing the word out, "since I was young, I’ve had this strange... well, let’s call it a hobby. I collect beast eggs that don’t hatch."

Hein blinked. "What?"

"Yeah," Nolan nodded solemnly. "I find them fascinating. All that potential, all that mystery. So I collect them."

There was a pause.

"And then I eat them."

Hein just stared.

"They taste weird," Nolan added, completely deadpan. "Some are bitter. Some are gooey. Some explode when you boil them. It’s an acquired taste."

Hein’s mouth hung slightly open, torn between indignation and speechlessness.

"Are you serious?"

"Deadly."

"That’s ridiculous."

"Then give me the egg."

"No."

Nolan grinned again. "Alright, alright. How about this—I’ll buy it off you."

Before Hein could react, Nolan produced a pouch and counted fifty Mana Crystals into his palm with exaggerated flair, one by one. Each gleamed in the afternoon sun, clicking softly together as he stacked them.

"Here," Nolan offered, both palms extended. "Fifty crystals. A fair deal for a dead egg, don’t you think?"

Hein flinched.

Fifty? That was nearly the full value of a functioning low-tier artifact. Even if the egg had been whole, this price was ridiculous. Hein stared, unsure whether to be impressed or concerned.

"You’re really going to pay that much?"

"Yes," Nolan said, eyes still twinkling. "Because I want that egg."

"But it’s—"

"—already half-dead, I know. But I want it."

Hein narrowed his gaze. "Why?"

"You said it yourself," Nolan answered smoothly. "I’m not going to use it. So why not give it to me?"

"You could just wait until it dies."

"I don’t want a corpse. I want it now."

"You’re insane."

"Possibly."

Hein hesitated. The truth was, he didn’t want the egg. Not anymore. It was a failed purchase. A bitter reminder of foolish hope. But handing it over now, after this bizarre exchange, after everything... it felt humiliating.

Nolan watched his silence, unblinking.

And then Hein groaned, shoulders sagging.

"Fine! Take it!"

He shoved the egg into Nolan’s hands with a look of utter defeat.

"Don’t want your damn crystals," he muttered. "Just go."

The moment the egg left his grip, Nolan spun in a little circle and raised it above his head like a trophy. "Yes! Victory!"

Hein scowled, but there was something almost infectious about the way Nolan celebrated, bouncing slightly on his feet like a boy who’d won a fairground prize.

So fast. So shameless.

"Unbelievable," Hein muttered.

And as Nolan turned away, cradling the egg like it was precious treasure, Hein couldn’t help the thought that bloomed, unbidden and uneasy, in the back of his mind.

Was that part of his plan too?

He sighed, rubbing his temples.

Looking at Nolan again, head convinced he was tricked again!

Damn!! Too shameless.

Then, Hein would turn around, walk slowly, and curse that someday he would get them all back.