Over an hour later, just before the Wasp Queen regrew her wings for the 60th time, Lucas finished her off with a single Fireball. Gazing at the half-formed wings, he exhaled deeply—taking down a boss with limited Mana was tedious. He needed to gear up fully soon.
He collected the loot and checked the stats: Silver-tier Hornet Longbow (ATK 6-18, +3 Strength, +2 Vitality, +4 Physical Damage)—the best starter weapon for Hunters, usable until the Level 8 dungeon. The other drops were an Iron-tier Iron Ring and an Iron-tier Obsidian Bracer. Unexpectedly, the bracer was mage-specific; now Lucas had a complete set of bracers, rings, cloak, and staff, leaving only dungeon-exclusive armor pieces like chestplates and leggings.
Glancing at the time—it was 6 AM—Lucas used his Hearthstone to return to Saint Galen City and headed to the East Plaza. With ample open space, the plaza had naturally become a player marketplace. After a full night of grinding, many players sold loot to trade for supplies.
Lucas set up a stall casually. Soon, a female player's shriek echoed across the square, stirring a commotion. "Silver gear! Iron gear! So many rare pieces!"
"Where? Who's selling rare gear?" Players swarmed over. At this stage, even a Bronze-tier item was a trophy; most stalls sold basic cooking ingredients or crafting materials. "Hype," scoffed a player. "Our Guild 'Bloodbath' leader doesn't even have an Iron piece—silver's impossible."
"No lie! Look at these stats! Message the guild master—hurry, before they're gone!" Skeptical players approached, then stumbled over their words at the loot. The crowd grew thicker by the second.
Lucas smiled—he'd expected this. In his past life, Damon of "World Domination" had been the first to get Silver gear, spending a hundred Level 8 players to grind the Wolf Lord three days later. "Buddy, 5 Silver for the Bull Horn Dagger? I'll pay now!" "How much for the Acolyte's Staff? It's for my girlfriend!"
Once the shock faded, players began haggling. Lucas said nothing, posting price tags instead. The crowd erupted again. "2 Gold for a dagger? That's robbery—I don't even have 2 Silver!" (1 Gold = 100 Silver) "3 Gold for an Iron Helmet? Who can afford that?"
Amid the outcry, a harsh voice cut through: "Out of the way!" A group of players crowded around a Rogue as he stepped forward. Blain, the Rogue, glared down at Lucas with a menacing tone: "Kid, I'm taking all your gear."
Lucas recognized Blain—a former third-rate gold-farming kingpin who'd flopped in his last game. He'd rounded up 5,000 players for Forsaken World, ruling through brute intimidation. In his past life, Blain had sabotaged Lucas's fledgling guild; Lucas later crushed Blain's faction with the Demon's Heart, forging a blood feud that never faded.
The 20-strong group's ferocity sent onlookers scrambling back in fear. "He's done for—either hand over the gear or get camped indefinitely," muttered a player. Blain smirked, leaning in with a cold sneer: "Two choices: fork over the loot as your 'elite guild enrollment fee,' or I'll spawn-kill you until you quit the server. Choose wisely."
Lucas bowed his head, hands clasped under his chin—as if crushed. Blain grinned, but Lucas suddenly looked up, his voice icy: "Scram." "What?" Blain snapped. "Say that again." "I said scram. Did you not hear?"
Blain's men froze—no one dared talk to Blain like this. Onlookers gasped too; Blain was infamous for random killings, yet no one dared retaliate against his 5,000-strong guild. Just then, a cold snort sounded. "Still as shameless as ever, Blain? Think this is your last game, where you ruled unchallenged?"
It was Damon Voss, leader of the "Supreme Dynasty" guild—one of the top ten power players on the Chinese server. Ruthless yet not one to bully the weak, he commanded a 30,000-strong player army. Blain paled; his 5,000 men stood no chance against Damon's forces. "Damon, what's your game here?" he blustered, trying to mask his terror.
"Buying gear," Damon ignored Blain, turning to Lucas. "Name your price—fair one." Before Lucas could reply, an elderly voice interrupted: "Hold on." Another group approached, led by a smiling, silver-haired man in his 60s—Silas Hale, CEO of a Fortune 500 company.
A lifelong gamer, Silas had handed his business to his son and entered the game with 100 million Credits, recruiting veteran esports players. Nicknamed "Smiling Fox," he'd sabotaged Damon in a past recruit battle. "Young Damon, what a coincidence. I need that greatsword—be a sport and let me have it?" Damon frowned: "Old fox, that sword's mine." The air turned tense—who would claim Lucas's loot first?