"You... you dare lay a hand on soone from the Reynolds Trading Company? Do you Renegades have a death wish?" a voice shouted from within the group of Reynolds crafters just as Celia finished her brief summary of events.
"That’s him, Ethan," Celia said quickly, spotting the speaker. "He’s the other Expert from this contract, the Engineering specialist."
"Heh, the second dog shows its teeth," Ethan said with a cold smile. "Leo, pin him."
"Huh? Oh, you got it!" Leo was montarily surprised but then shot forward like a bullet.
The guild hall was a Safe Zone where combat skills were disabled, but physical actions weren’t restricted. You could brawl all day without losing a single hit point. It was also private property, so the city guards had no jurisdiction here.
The Expert-level Engineer who had spoken found Leo’s fist smashing into his nose.
"Ahhh!" the man scread, clutching his face. He tried to say sothing else, but Leo, a forr special forces operator, wasn’t holding back now that Ethan had given the order. A flurry of punches and kicks rained down on the man.
Because this guy had been in the middle of the crowd, Leo was now surrounded. But these crafters had never seen such brute force. Players who chose pure non-combat professions were often the type to avoid conflict in real life too. A couple of them tentatively reached out to grab Leo, but it was useless. With a casual shove and a kick, Leo sent them flying. The rest of the group scattered in a panic, fleeing in all directions.
"Don’t let a single one of them get away! Interrupt anyone trying to use a hearthstone!" Ethan commanded.
He saw a few making a break for the guild hall’s exit, while others had started the cast to teleport out. The several hundred Renegade mbers who had arrived with Victor were more than enough to handle it.
While Ethan was rarely seen managing day-to-day guild affairs, the mbers practically worshipped him—the legendary Druid God was a figure of awe. His appearances always got their blood pumping. If he were around all the ti, it wouldn’t feel special. And wasn’t it just like the boss to show up today and imdiately start slapping around the Reynolds guys?
They knew all too well what the Reynolds Company was like. Many of them had been burned by these jerks before.
Logically, the "All-You-Need" chain should have outperford Reynolds. Rumor was they’d even opened branches in Blackridge and Springhaven. Everyone had high hopes for them, but for so reason, over the last couple of weeks, All-You-Need hadn’t expanded aggressively. Their prices were low, their quality was reliable, but they simply didn’t have enough storefronts.
They held the pri comrcial spots in three major cities, but because of that, their engineered items, elixirs, and potions sold out almost instantly. Supply couldn’t et demand, forcing players to settle for Reynolds’s shops. It wasn’t that Reynolds’s goods were better or cheaper—far from it. But recently, Reynolds had been expanding like weeds, snapping up secondary comrcial locations and opening new branches on every street corner and back alley. Players could buy supplies without trekking to the city center.
This explosive growth had made the Reynolds people increasingly arrogant, embodying the classic "the custor is always wrong" ntality.
So, when the Renegades returned to see their boss, the Druid God himself, personally disciplining Reynolds staff, they were thrilled. The boss is back, and he’s going straight for the tough targets. Now, hearing his order to "handle" the rest, the several hundred eager mbers surged forward.
The few dozen Reynolds employees were in for a world of hurt.
With skills disabled, it was an old-fashioned brawl, a pure numbers ga. If skills were allowed, the crafters would have been vaporized in seconds.
Thwack! Smack! Crack!
The beating went on for a good ten minutes. One of Ethereal’s features was that you couldn’t log out while in combat. Brawling in the city wouldn’t kill them, but the pain feedback was very much real—the system mandated at least a 10% pain sensation. These soft-handed crafters couldn’t handle it. After ten minutes, they were already crying and begging for rcy. The high-and-mighty crafters, who usually looked down their noses at everyone, were now on their knees, so sobbing for it to stop.
Just then, a flash of light appeared at the guild hall entrance, and a figure stepped through, dressed identically to Ethan—a black robe with a deep, overshadowing hood.
Seeing his arrival, Ethan smirked. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the bald Blacksmith, who was still spinning like a top, flying through the air. The man landed right at the feet of SeraphWarrior—Williams—who promptly planted a foot on the Blacksmith’s back, pinning him down.
"That’s enough," Ethan said calmly.
The Renegade mbers, who had been enthusiastically pounding on the crafters in several small groups, imdiately stopped at their leader’s command. They grabbed the crafters by the collars, dragged them into a central pile, and then quickly fell back into orderly ranks.
Silence returned to the hall. If not for the groaning, disheveled heap of Reynolds employees, one might think nothing had happened at all.
"Now, I’ll ask questions. You’ll fight to answer them. Whoever gives the answer I want gets to leave... unhard. The rest get beaten for an hour, then executed," Ethan’s voice was quiet, almost conversational, devoid of any strong emotion.
The crafters listened, their eyes filling with renewed resentnt. This was pure humiliation. In an instant, their deeply ingrained arrogance made them forget the beating they’d just received.
"Looks like you still have so spine," Ethan mused, his eyes narrowing. "Ethereal’s reduced pain feedback is such a pain in the ass..." He turned his gaze to the newly arrived robed figure. "Did you bring the stuff?"
The robed man nodded. "Of course. Why else would I be here?"
The mont he spoke, Leo, who was sitting on the back of the Expert Engineer, jolted as if electrocuted.
"Holy crap, what are you doing here?" he blurted out, sounding genuinely spooked.
"Leo, it’s been too long since you had a drink with . Fancy one later?" the robed man’s low voice held a teasing note.
"No way," Leo retorted, turning his back on the man.
"Victor, pick out the ten toughest guys from that pile," Ethan ordered.
Victor didn’t question it. He strode over to the huddle of crafters, scanned them with his eyes, and quickly identified ten who, despite being seated, were still glaring defiantly, their noses in the air.
"What do you think you’re doing? I’m a Blacksmith! I have connections! You’ll regr—urgh!"
Thump!
Victor silenced the man with a sharp kick to the gut. Ten Renegade elites promptly grabbed the selected ten and forced them face-down onto the floor.
"So, old man," Ethan tilted his head toward the robed figure. "Your show or mine?"
"Heh heh, my turn. I could use so fun," the robed man chuckled. It was none other than his Second Avatar.
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