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Now reading: Chapter 77 -77-1 vs 300,000 from I Can Get 1,000,000x Returns from Selling Anything!, a Fantasy novel by CancerReo.

"Who else is left?"

Daniel’s voice was quiet, yet it struck every heart like a hamr.

Not a single one of the 300,000 non-human players dared move.

Inside Lord’s Manor, the remaining two thousand human players were utterly dumbfounded.

"Killing the enemy general amidst an entire army... what is this?"

"These trash are nothing compared to the God! They literally wanted to stand before him, in front of 300,000 of their own minions, just to die!"

"Faustus God: you see and don’t imdiately kill yourselves, yet still dare bark at ? Boldness indeed!"

"Why is Faustus’s loot rate so ridiculous???"

"..."

"Faustus must be insane, right? He kills without even blinking!"

"I’m starting to regret joining the non-human faction... what about you?"

"Sa here. Feels like there’s no way to get past Faustus!"

Just as the mass of players hesitated, a Beastfolk Berserker suddenly raised his battle axe, shouting loudly:

"Brothers! Faustus is only one person, and we have 300,000!"

"Numbers alone should overwhelm him!"

"Don’t be afraid—levels can be regained. If we kill him, the rewards will be huge!"

His words acted like a jolt of courage, reigniting hope among the previously hesitant non-human players.

So joined in the encouragent.

"Exactly! Everyone knows Faustus is decked in artifacts! Let’s all gang up and blow him up!"

"Faustus is an archer—fragile. If the warriors push forward, killing him is just a matter of minutes!"

"Charge! Stop the nonsense!"

The 300,000 surged forward again.

Daniel’s expression remained calm as he slowly raised Moon Reaper.

Arrowstorm!

Shattering Cot!

He combined both skills.

A golden rain of arrows poured down, covering hundreds of ters!

Boom boom boom boom boom—!

Explosions deafened the battlefield.

The thousands of players at the front were instantly shredded into fragnts.

[Ding! You have slain non-human faction players ×1,327!]

[Death Curse BUFF Triggered! Target Level -5! Forced equipnt drop! Forced drop of all inventory items!]

The ground shimred with gold and loot, piles of equipnt, coins, and materials everywhere.

Yet the non-human players’ eyes burned red as they stepped over the corpses of their comrades and pressed onward.

"He’s only one person! Skills have cooldowns! His mana will run out!"

"Charge! Kill him!"

Daniel remained expressionless, firing arrow after arrow.

Each shot sent dozens or hundreds of players down.

They didn’t even have ti to react before respawning at Luminara.

Seeing themselves naked and their inventories empty, they howled in despair.

"Ahhh! My gear!!!"

"Faustus!!! My skill book is gone!"

"Fuck! Bitch! I’m reporting this, Faustus is hacking!"

"What a joke! My equipnt? These were platinum-grade items I worked a week to obtain!"

Countless players were killed by Faustus, all thrown back to square one overnight.

On the battlefield, Daniel stood alone before Lord’s Manor, facing the tide of 300,000 non-human players.

Arrow rain never ceased. Explosions erupted constantly.

The non-human players’ skills rained down like raindrops—but:

"-1!"

"MISS!"

"-1!"

"MISS!"

[Demon’s Whisper] granted immunity to all negative effects.

[Windstrider Robe] gave a 50% chance to fully dodge.

Combined with over 17,000 Agility, attacks from low-level players either did a single forced HP point or missed entirely.

He didn’t even need to dodge.

He simply stood there, harvesting arrow after arrow.

The spectacle shocked everyone present.

Faustus alone, trading volleys with 300,000 players—and not a single setback!

Thirty minutes passed.

Daniel’s arrows had yet to stop.

His mana and HP, aided by Infinite Grail, regenerated 1% per second, and with each kill, restored even more—almost limitless.

The non-human players began to crumble—not because they couldn’t fight, but ntally.

They watched their comrades being oneshotted, equipnt raining down around them.

They saw those who charged forward appear ten seconds later in Luminara, naked and screaming.

Even the luckiest would lose at least one piece of their highest-quality gear.

The pressure of potentially losing everything at any mont was more terrifying than death itself.

Finally, so couldn’t hold on.

A Goblin priest turned and ran.

"I’m done! I don’t want to lose levels!"

Then the second, third... tenth, hundredth...

"Run!"

"A bunch of idiots still charging? Brainwashed or crazy!"

"I’m out, I don’t want to lose gear!"

The besieging non-human players dropped from hundreds of thousands to tens of thousands, then thousands, then hundreds.

Those hesitating saw this and panicked, fleeing en masse.

A cold glint flashed in Daniel’s eyes.

"Want to run now?"

He unfolded Black Dragon Wings and soared into the sky.

God Speed activated!

The next mont, he appeared in the densest cluster of non-human players.

Arrowstorm!

Golden arrows rained down, covering the entire fleeing force.

Boom boom boom boom boom—!

Thousands fell.

Then he appeared elsewhere.

Shattering Cot!

Arrows split into countless golden points, falling like a teor shower.

Hundreds more were cut down.

With God Speed chain-blinking infinitely, Daniel’s figure streaked across the battlefield, each appearance taking hundreds of lives.

From above, he was a golden lightning bolt weaving through the fleeing horde.

Everywhere he passed, the ground shimred with gold.

[Ding! You have slain non-human faction players ×1,847!]

[Ding! You have slain non-human faction players ×2,336!]

[Ding! You have slain non-human faction players ×1,217!]

[...]

System notifications flooded endlessly, unstoppable.

Sunborn, atop the Lord’s Manor walls, felt his blood boil.

"Brothers!"

He raised his greatsword, shouting.

"Faustus God is hunting 300,000 alone! Why are we standing still?"

"Charge! Harvest! Collect the loot!"

The remaining two thousand human players surged from Lord’s Manor like a tidal wave, chasing the fleeing non-human faction players.

The non-human forces had been utterly terrified by Daniel, unable to organize any resistance.

So begged for rcy, so cried, so logged out in panic.

Those who had been killed respawned in Luminara, naked and empty-handed, wailing.

When they read the forums and saw Vantheon and countless others’ anguished posts, they finally understood:

Faustus—was truly untouchable.

Dawnlight City had been defended.

And it had been defended in a near legendary-grade fashion.

One man against 300,000.

"Faustus is insane! How the hell is this possible?!"

"I don’t want to lose levels! I don’t want to lose gear!"

"Faustus is a demon! A demon!"

The 300,000 non-human players scattered in chaos, fleeing in every direction.

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