Unkillable infected

Every student was silent, their eyes wide as they stared at their screens.

A strange sense of unease filled the room.

One by one, the murmurs began—soft, confused, filled with disbelief.

"He stabbed it…"

"Why didn't it die?"

"Isn't the heart the weakness?"

"Wasn't that enough force to kill anything?"

Nolan crossed his arms, watching them with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

His eyes gleamed with amusement, like a teacher waiting for the slowest student to finally understand a trick question.

Calien, still sitting at his desk, turned to him, eyebrows furrowed in a mix of anger and confusion.

"I stabbed it in the heart. Clean strike. Why didn't it die?"

Nolan tilted his head slightly. "Why should I tell you?"

Calien's jaw clenched.

"You all seem to hate Knight training," Nolan continued with a lazy shrug.

"You think it's outdated. Useless. But Knighthood isn't about flashy swords and strong swings. It's about survival. Awareness. Fighting even when you don't know the rules. The enemy doesn't wait for your textbook answer."

He leaned forward slightly.

"And sometimes, the enemy doesn't die the way you expect it to."

Calien's fists balled up at his side, his pride pricked.

A descendant of a high-ranking Knight family… He had never been humiliated like this before, especially not in front of his peers.

He inhaled deeply.

"Can I do it again?"

Nolan raised a brow, unimpressed. "Sure. We've got time. You'll need it."

Calien nodded, ignoring the looks from the others. "Sir—"

"Just touch the screen," Nolan cut him off, pointing lazily at the floating interface in front of Calien's desk. "Click with your finger. It'll restart."

The boy stared at the words glowing in front of him: Game Over. Below it was a single button pulsing with a soft light: New Game.

He touched it.

In an instant, the classroom faded away, replaced by the oppressive stench of decay and the crumbling streets of the city.

The ruined place groaned with the wind.

Rubble and trash danced across the pavement.

Behind him, the same infected creature groaned.

Calien felt his heart race, recalling his earlier failure. He steadied his breath, focusing.

Swiftly, he hurled the knife, aiming for the head, but he flinched when it passed through its ear, only grazing its hair. "I missed it," he muttered in frustration.

Cursing, he grabbed the rusty pipe from the ground again.

Nolan sighed, already shaking his head in the classroom. "Why does he keep picking up that junk pipe and use it as a weapon? it's not for that."

Calien circled the infected, cautious. He ducked low, moving like a trained Knight—graceful, fast, deadly. His swings were precise. He hit the creature's shoulder, side, neck, even the chest again with all his strength.

The thing stumbled, but it didn't fall. Its head lolled back unnaturally, but it kept coming.

"What the hell—!" Calien gasped.

The students outside the simulation watched anxiously.

Their screens showed the battle in sharp detail. Every hit, every failed strike. Some were leaning forward, captivated. Others glanced at Nolan.

"Why isn't it dying?"

"Is this part of the training?"

Nolan looked away and rubbed his chin like he hadn't heard anything.

Calien kept moving. Kept striking. Over and over. He danced around the infected with refined steps, his breathing growing heavier. Sweat dripped down his brow.

Then, a red bar appeared above his vision: Stamina - 24%

He blinked.

"What…?"

His arms began to slow. His grip weakened. His steps became heavier. His breathing is rougher. Another swing. Missed. Another. Blocked. He stumbled.

Stamina - 5%

And then—snap.

The pipe in his hand cracked in two.

The infected lunged.

Teeth sank into his shoulder.

The screen flickered.

Game Over.

The ruined world vanished, and Calien was back in the classroom, sitting with his desk in front, breathing hard. His classmates stared, some wide-eyed, others confused.

He slammed his fist on the table.

"Sir! That's not normal. This enemy—is it even killable?" Frustration bubbled within him as he thought, 'What did I miss this time?' He took a deep breath, determined to approach it differently.

Nolan didn't answer immediately. He turned his screen slightly toward them, pretending to consider.

"It's killable," he finally said.

"Then why—"

Nolan raised a hand.

"I'll give you a clue. Don't look at the enemy. Look at yourself. What do you have? What are you capable of?"

Calien frowned. "What does that mean?"

"You figure it out. Or you'll keep dying."

Grumbling, Calien sat again and hit New Game.

This time, when the world shifted and the streets of the apocalypse returned, he didn't move right away. He crouched down and looked at his belt. Then at the items on the ground. Then his hands.

The knife.

He picked it up. It gleamed with a strange marking.

He squinted.

Pathogen Blade.

His eyes widened.

"…Anti-rabies?"

Then he remembered the cinematic they watched. The drug. The dog. The infection. Rabies.

A curse that made humans lose their minds, become violent… unable to be healed.

He clenched the handle tighter. Was this the key?

He heard the groan behind him and turned. The infected was shambling toward him again. Same one. Same soulless eyes. Same broken jaw.

He stepped forward and stabbed—straight into the chest.

The creature stumbled.

But didn't fall.

"No…"

He backed up, gripping the knife again. He needed to try something else.

It lunged again. Calien ducked low, spun around, and jabbed the knife upward with all his strength.

Into the temple.

There was a pause.

Then, the creature twitched.

And fell.

The body crumpled on the street, still.

Calien stood there frozen.

"…What?"

He stared at the corpse.

A long moment passed.

Then, in the corner of his vision, a notification appeared.

Enemy defeated.

Infection neutralized.

His eyes widened.

"It's the head… The head is the weakness?"

Back in the classroom, the twelve students leaned forward.

Calien's voice had echoed across their screens.

They saw the notification too.

Nolan smirked. "Well. Took him long enough."

The others were still silent, trying to piece it together.

But one student whispered, "Is that… the level of training we're going to get?" he looked disappointed.

Nolan turned to face them, a crooked grin on his face.

"Oh no," he said. "That was the warm-up."

As soon as Nolan casually said, "That was just the warm-up," the screens in front of the students flickered.

As Calien caught his breath, a distant groan echoed through the ruins.

He turned, dread pooling in his stomach as shadows shifted behind the wreckage.

Suddenly, his view displayed a horrifying scene—infected creatures began pouring in from every direction.

Too many.

A whole group of them staggered out from behind burned-out cars and crumbled buildings.

They were slow, but they just kept coming.

Their groans echoed, their eyes glowed with that same sickly red hue.

One, two, five, ten… fifteen…

Calien was still catching his breath. He had barely finished off one, and now there were more? His arms ached. His stamina hadn't even recovered. "What the hell is this?" he muttered.

He didn't even have time to raise his weapon when he noticed behind him that an infected was already biting his shoulder.

Ah!

He screamed.

Then his screen blinked.

GAME OVER.

He was thrown back into the classroom.

Calien sat there blinking, frustrated. "How do I get out of that? Why are there so many? I just killed one, and then suddenly I'm surrounded?"

Nolan didn't even look at him. He just leaned back in his chair. "Earlier you said it was boring. Then you wanted a thrill. And now you're complaining that it's too hard?"

The class quieted.

A few students glanced down, a few looked at Calien.

They hadn't forgotten the way they had laughed or dismissed Nolan earlier. Now, their guilt was eating them alive.

Then one of the students asked, "Wait, what's happening to you?" he sound shocked and in disbelief.

Calien would look at him and then blinked. "Huh? What do you mean?"

But then—he felt it.

A sudden tightness in his chest. Not pain, exactly—just pressure.

A comfortable pressure released from within in the form of misty mana that poured out like sweat.

He staggered back slightly, breathing heavily. His skin felt hot. His vision shimmered. And then—something flickered over his body.

A glow.

Soft at first. Then brighter.

His classmates gasped.

"What's that light—?"

"Is he… is he breaking through?!"

"No way!"

"That's mana! He's glowing with mana!"

Calien looked down at his own hands, stunned. The warmth was rising, stronger now, buzzing through his bones. "I… I know this feeling… this is…"

His eyes widened in disbelief. "A breakthrough?"

He whispered the words, as if afraid saying it too loudly would make it untrue.

But he could feel it—his strength had shifted. His mana pool had deepened. His body had become lighter, faster, sharper. He had passed the peak of the third stage.

"I just became a Fourth Stage Mana Knight… Initial phase…"

The classroom fell silent, disbelief hanging in the air.

Then, as if a dam had broken, exclamations erupted.

"No way!"

"That's impossible!"

"Do you know how long I've been stuck at Third Stage Peak?!"

"It takes months—sometimes years—to pass that wall!"

"He didn't even do a proper session of aura refinement…"

"He was just playing that… training simulation!"

"Who breaks through in the middle of a test?!"

"I've been stuck for so long! This is insane!"

"I can't even break past Second Stage… and he—he just—he just did it like that?!"

Some of them stood up, pointing at him, crowding around as if trying to catch some of the leftover energy from his breakthrough.

Nolan clicked his tongue and crossed his arms, annoyed.

"This is why I hate it when someone benefits from my system," he muttered.

But out loud, he just shrugged. "Well, of course he broke through. He was already at the peak of Third Stage before. That was just a small step."

.