Kaito stared down at the glowing interface, his eyes scanning the neatly organized rows of icons—each representing a hard-won prize from the treasure hunt. The virtual light from the screen reflected faintly in his gaze as his fingers moved with practiced precision.
"Too much to carry. Time to sort this properly."
He began swiping items into categorized stacks. The first batch he pulled aside were purely life-skill related—each item neatly shifted into its own designated folder in the grid:
[Forging Design – Bronze Titanguard Plate Set]
[Blueprint –Bronze Fire Twinblade]
[Enchanting Template – Twin Rune Core (Silver)]
[Enchanting Template – Scorching Grips]
[Potion Recipe – Firemind Tonic]
[Cooking Recipe – Sweet Emberfruit Stir]
[Blueprint – Bronze Utility Belt (Potion Holder)]
[Forging Blueprint – Mysterious Iron Boots: Dancer's Tread]
[Forging Blueprint – Bronze Ring of Vital Surge]
[Material – Bronze Alchemy Flask ×3]
[Crafting Material – Phantom Veil]
He paused for a second, letting the final item settle into place.
"These'll be for later. When the Life Guild project begins."
Then his hand moved sideways, and the interface shifted tabs—from crafting materials to battle gear.
"Now, let's get serious."
He dragged the gleaming blade icon upward.
[Equipped: Solstice Blade – Growth-Type Weapon Activated]
[Weapon Affinity: Magic Swordsman confirmed. Passive scaling enabled.]
The long, elemental-edged sword materialized at his waist in a flash of light—slender, heat-forged, with tiny veins of molten red pulsing along the fuller.
Next, he selected a shimmering scroll wrapped in purple thread.
[Skill Learned: Mirror Phantom Blade]
[Cooldown: 180 sec. Doppelganger Duration: 20 sec.]
Then came the prop. A translucent item pulsing with otherworldly aura:
[Prop Equipped: Veil of Echoes – Passive Ready]
[Effect: Enter 'state of nothingness' for 10 seconds if not in battle.]
He clipped the item into the inner fold of his cloak, fingers brushing briefly across the invisible tether that linked it to his status panel.
Ten seconds of silence, invincibility, and phasing.
"I'll need that soon," he muttered.
Once his combat gear was fully equipped, he gave one last sweep through the interface—double-checking nothing was left behind.
Satisfied, Kaito closed the inventory window and turned.
Outside, the soft evening glow had begun to settle over South Glade. The streets were quieter now, humming with subtle NPC chatter and flickers of torches lighting the path.
He stepped out from the Tavern and made his way down the eastern road. A short walk brought him to the town bank, After securely storing all the life-skill-related items in his vault, Kaito adjusted the Veil of Echoes beneath his cloak and began making his way toward the town's exit.
As he neared the town's exit, Kaito activated the Veil of Echoes.
His form shimmered—and vanished.
The world dulled around him, colors muted, sounds muffled. In this state of nothingness, he became an echo—untouchable, unseen. He moved silently past players lingering by the gate, slipping between clustered groups and patrols. Even the scouts Everhold Dominion had discreetly stationed around the outskirts failed to notice his presence.
Outside the town walls, the Everhold forces had gathered in full view—no subtlety, no shame. hundreds loitered in the open, armed and ready, as if daring him to appear.
But they never saw him.
As long as he remained passive, the Veil protected him. No spell, no skill, no eye could pierce the silence.
Kaito didn't pause. He bypassed them all.
And without a word or trace, he stepped off the path—into the wilderness.
The forest thickened with each step, branches whispering against one another as if murmuring secrets he wasn't meant to hear. Kaito moved like a shadow beneath the canopy, boots silent on moss and mulch. The trees in this region of Glory were older than most—thick-trunked, gnarled with time, and utterly unmarked on player maps.
But Kaito remembered.
In his first life, he had stumbled upon it entirely by accident—injured, broke, and too weak to afford anything inside. And even then, it had taken a fluke event and an obscure NPC rumor chain just to learn about it:
The Black Market.
It wasn't a place that existed on the game's official maps. It wasn't even part of the known NPC city system. It was a separate, drifting space hidden behind ancient teleportation formations—each one set to relocate after major updates to Glory. Some appeared in deserts, some near faraway main cities. Others in icy mountain passes. But in the earliest version of the Glory… one had existed here.
Near South Glade.
He crossed a shallow ravine and entered a clearing of silent stone spires—natural rock pillars etched faintly with glowing runes. They pulsed once as he approached, as if sensing him.
Kaito raised a hand and muttered a phrase under his breath.
"Vereska Tal."
The runes flashed red.
A second later, the air shimmered—folding inward like collapsing cloth—and a circular platform of black marble rose from the ground, forming a perfect disc. In the center, a tiny floating sigil rotated in midair.
> [Hidden Formation Detected – Black Market Gateway (Old World Anchor)]
> [Access Granted – Known Password]
> [Teleportation Initiating…]
Kaito stepped onto the formation.
In a blink, the forest vanished.
He reappeared inside a vast underground cavern—no sky, only carved obsidian walls and dim lighting from suspended soul lanterns above. The space was enormous, with arched walkways leading to various submarkets, corners veiled in smoky mist, and distant silhouettes moving between them.
At the gate stood a tall NPC in black armor, face obscured beneath a hooded mask. It extended a gloved hand silently.
Without a word, Kaito accepted the folded bundle it offered.
> [You have received: Cloak of Dusk]
> [You have received: Mask of Silence]
> [Wearing these items suppresses Nameplate Visibility and prevents Player Recognition]
> [Warning: Combat within Black Market zones results in permanent aggro from Tier 4+ NPCs]
Kaito equipped the cloak and mask, letting the heavy fabric settle around his frame. The material shimmered faintly—almost absorbing light rather than reflecting it. His name disappeared from sight. Even his system ID dimmed on his own interface.
He walked forward, head slightly bowed, just like the others.
Every figure within wore the same attire—hooded, masked, silent. But he knew the truth.
Nearly all of them were NPCs.
This market… it had existed long before the players discovered it. In fact, the NPCs had their own economy here—trading in rare materials, spell scripts, ancient artifacts, even void-linked contracts. When players finally learned of the place, most assumed it had spawned for them.
But it hadn't.
This was the underworld of Glory. A place where Tier 4 and Tier 5 NPCs or even above came to trade between regions, clans, and empires. A place where not even the Empires could track purchases.
And yet… it wasn't entirely off-limits.
The first players to find it—those from upper-tier guilds, legendary streamers, and high-spending whales—had done so either by sheer luck or through leaked quests.
Kaito had been here once. He remembered seeing a masked figure standing to the side—speaking in hushed tones to a blacksmith NPC whose gear radiated a tier far beyond what any player could handle at the time.
He had always suspected that person was the guild leader of [Empire's Reach]—a guild that later dominated 4 main cities in Glory for months.
Now, he stood in the same hall. Only this time… he wasn't poor. He wasn't clueless.
He was prepared.
He passed a series of merchant stalls—each flanked by heavy-armed guards. One stall glowed with rune-enchanted shields. Another offered phoenix-scorched forging templates. A third had rare ingredients sealed in crystal flasks—labeled in languages players hadn't even unlocked yet.
Kaito didn't stop yet.
First, he needed to reconfirm the market's layout—see if the same vendors from last time were present. Even if the teleportation points shifted, the Black Market's core economy remained mostly unchanged during early phases.
He paused near a shadowed alcove, watching as a cloaked figure bartered quietly with a hooded NPC over something glowing red.
A soft smile tugged at his lips.
Well… perhaps a few did.
He sensed them, faintly. Just one or two others standing in isolated corners, posture too fluid to be AI-controlled. Other players. But none moved like casuals. These weren't ordinary adventurers.
These were presidents of super guilds. Possibly CEOs. Maybe top 100 rankers already moving early pieces on the board.