Internet Mage Professor-Chapter 88: Must get that

The seller, whose voice had long since adopted the cadence of a seasoned showman, waved his hand dramatically toward the egg chosen by Professor Hein.

It shimmered softly under the golden light of the market square—luminescent green with ripples of soft blue light threading through its shell like waves under the surface of a calm lake.

"Congratulations, Professor Hein!" the seller declared, grinning as though he had just presented a national treasure. "The aquatic egg is now yours!"

A murmur of awe spread like wildfire through the gathered crowd. Hein, flustered and clearly unused to such public attention, adjusted his collar and nodded humbly.

"Well... the decision was obvious, really," he mumbled, attempting a modest tone, though his chest had clearly puffed a little. "Silver Blade City is surrounded by lakes, after all. Water sources abound. The environment’s naturally conducive to aquatic companions..."

As if on cue, someone in the crowd clapped. Then another. And another. Soon a warm ripple of applause surged across the gathering.

"Well chosen, Professor!"

"Smart thinking! He picked the one that fits our ecosystem!"

"No wonder he’s a real professor!"

Hein waved sheepishly, his usual scholarly stiffness slowly dissolving into something resembling delight.

His entire face lit up with a smile—a real, childlike one—as he gently cradled the egg in both arms.

He might have failed a dozen times before, but now he held something that everyone coveted. In that moment, he stood not as a laughingstock but a triumphant scholar.

"Thank you, thank you," Hein said, bowing slightly, trying to maintain composure, though a smile tugged uncontrollably at the corners of his lips. "It seems even failure has its reward if one is persistent enough."

The seller beamed as if he were the magnanimous benefactor of the scene. "Indeed! Persistence and faith in the Lucky Artifact Game is always rewarded. Remember, folks, it’s not just luck—it’s destiny!"

More claps followed.

Meanwhile, off to the side, where the crowd thinned and shadows from tall awnings stretched across the ground, Lirazel hovered above Nolan’s shoulder in a semi-invisible veil of charm and petulance. Her wings, usually idle and ornamental, beat once in irritation.

"I can’t believe how blind these people are," she hissed, arms folded tightly under her chest. "You’d think a city full of mana-sensitive dullards would be able to sense the scam reeking from that seller."

Nolan didn’t respond. His gaze was still fixed on the seller’s table, his eyes half-lidded, brows furrowed in a curious mix of interest and calculation.

"So that’s how it is! So that’s how it is... I never thought my ability was different from what I imagined it to be... this is brilliant!" Nolan would exclaim, but Lirazel would hear him and think he was praising the low level beasts.

Lirazel scoffed. "Those eggs... Tch. They’re rejects, Master Nolan. Rejected hatchlings from low-rung beast farms. Don’t be fooled!"

Nolan would give her a side glance; he was about to say he was not talking about the eggs and the beasts inside, but Lirazel seemed to be angered by the thought of him thinking he could use those eggs rather than birthing a child with her.

She would continue, "Can’t even crack their own shells without heavy external mana stimulus. You’d need ten mana stones just to warm them. And even then, what crawls out? Slugs. Amphibious weeds. Creatures a mere child wouldn’t accept as a pet."

She floated a little closer, her eyes glowing faintly red with frustration and disdain. "Companion beasts? Ha! They’re not companions. They’re failures. Ones even dirt-floor villages wouldn’t waste stable space on. Back in my realm, these wouldn’t even qualify as pests. The only thing they’re good for is compost."

Nolan remained silent, the way someone watching smoke unravel in reverse might—utterly fixated, trying to decipher the meaning behind every curl and motion.

Lirazel raised a brow. "Did you hear me, Master Nolan? Those eggs are deadweight. Not just metaphorically. Literally. One of them already has a cracked life-core—I can feel it. You think that green shimmer means potential? No, no, darling. That shimmer is its body decaying on the inside. These poor beasts were discarded, wrapped in glamours to make them look pure, and sold to idiots. It’s actually impressive. A whole different level of scam artistry."

Still, Nolan didn’t answer. He chose to remain silent for good.

The succubus scowled, her voice rising ever so slightly. "Don’t ignore me. Those monsters in those eggs aren’t even monsters. You want something that can evolve? Something with teeth, scales, blood of kings and ancients? You bond with me! You let me bear you a child worthy of splitting continents! We could create a terror, Nolan. Something worthy of fear, of worship!"

She floated down, inches from his ear, her breath hot and sugar-sweet.

"Why waste your lifespan nursing a damp frog with a talent rating barely better than a broom when you could be fathering legends?"

But still, Nolan didn’t respond.

He didn’t even twitch.

His gaze, unblinking, remained locked on the egg display.

Lirazel’s lips parted in frustration, and for a moment, she was about to snap, to fly into one of her rare fits of truly demonic rage.

But then... she paused.

Her eyes narrowed.

She leaned back slightly, arms unfolding, tail curling inwards.

And then she saw it.

He wasn’t ignoring her.

He was processing something. His lips were slightly parted. His pupils dilated. His breathing had slowed.

And then, out of nowhere, a strange smile tugged at the corners of Nolan’s lips.

The succubus froze, blinking in surprise.

He whispered something. Softly. Quietly. So low only she could hear.

"Now I get it... Now I get it."

He leaned back slightly, exhaling a shallow breath as though some great epiphany had just grounded itself in his mind.

Lirazel blinked. "What?"

But Nolan didn’t explain.

"Instead, he muttered again, just under his breath, ’So that’s how it really works... I thought it would only show me brief information, but I didn’t think it would reveal everything, even if it came from the unknown higher realm.’"

It wasn’t clear what he was referring to.

Not the egg.

Not the scam.

Not the crowd.

But something deeper. Something more layered. More systemic.

Nolan’s eyes were on the chaotic egg that even the seller didn’t know anything about.

Lirazel’s irritation faded into wariness. She hovered a little farther back now, watching him with the eyes of a creature used to reading mortals like open books.

But this one—this one—had just turned a page even though she couldn’t see it coming.

And then, Nolan straightened his back.

No hesitation. No more pondering.

He raised his hand high above the heads of the crowd, loud and clear.

"Me too," he called, voice carrying easily over the stillness that had settled after Hein’s victory. "I want to play!"

The crowd turned sharply.

A few people tilted their heads, squinting at the tall young man in worn clothes and a glint in his eye that was far too confident for someone stepping into what was now considered sacred ground.

Even the seller blinked in mild surprise—then smiled with theatrical warmth.

"Well now! Another brave soul! Step right up, young man! You know the rules!"

Nolan’s smile deepened.

Lirazel could only stare, uncertain, for once... quiet.