When Don opened his eyes again, it was already dark. He checked the ti, seven thirty. He had only slept six and a half hours, but he felt much better. Youth really was an advantage. His recovery rate was sothing else.
After a hot shower and a large al of frozen dumplings, he grabbed his handbag, second-generation light-sensing glasses tucked safely inside, and headed out.
Henshaw Tower sat in one of Liverpool’s busiest districts, along Kensington Road, where every kind of entertainnt venue you could want was within walking distance. The ground floor of the tower housed two shops: a departnt store and a bar.
A handful of n and won, all younger than Don, were already gathered outside the bar. Most of them had dyed hair in unusual colors, and various trinkets dangled from their ears or noses, giving them the look of little demons fresh out of a cave from Journey to the West.
Don walked straight into Henshaw Tower and saw the elevator doors already open in the distance. He rushed over with a few quick strides, calling out, "Wait a mont!"
The doors paused, and to his surprise, Kira, Number Sixteen, was the one holding the open button for him.
"Thanks, Kira."
The girl with her sun-touched complexion and athletic build smiled faintly. "Have you eaten?"
"Just finished."
"You logged off pretty late around noon, didn’t you?"
"Yeah. Past one."
"You really don’t take care of your health."
"Can’t help it. This job is important to ." He gave a sheepish smile.
Neither of them asked about each other’s rank, that was probably taboo right now. But the n and won around them had already started chatting freely.
A handso guy chuckled and asked, "What level are you all at?"
A chubby man with glasses shook his head dejectedly. "Level 10 is so hard. I just started today."
A girl of average looks and average build laughed. "Fatty, you’re so slow. I’m already Level 11. Hey, Kyle, what level are you?"
Kyle Jennings, the handso one, struck an exaggerated pose, deliberately flicking his hair, which was already as thick as a football field’s grass. "Not high. Not high. Only Level 14."
Several people gaped. "Whoa! Level 14 already?"
The plain-looking girl smiled radiantly and imdiately snuggled up to him. "Brother Kyle, will you help level up later?"
Kyle licked his lips. "Hmm? What’s in it for ?" His restless eyes drifted downward at a thirty-nine-and-a-half degree angle.
To everyone’s surprise, the girl turned out to be remarkably fierce. She grabbed his side and twisted hard in the wrong direction, huffing, "You rascal! What are you looking at? Don’t get any ideas! Are you helping level or not? Because if you don’t, I’ll turn this hunk of at into a grilled chicken sandwich!"
"Ow! Grandma, please, let go! I’ll take you, I’ll take you!"
"Hmph. That’s more like it."
Kira and Don exchanged a glance, both of them visibly awkward.
Kyle patted Don’s shoulder and asked, "Dude, what level are you?"
"Ah, I haven’t really started grinding yet. Too many people. Can’t even tag a monster."
"Sigh. Feel sorry for you, brother."
Kira shot him a disapproving look, but Don knew that was actually approval for staying low-key.
Back at Extraordinary Studio, the spacious main room was once again packed with people. Don walked to his row and found that Lily Wright had already logged in with her glasses on. An empty KFC family bucket sat on her desk, full of chicken bones. He was pleased. ’Good. She knows how to take care of herself.’
Kira smiled but said nothing.
Don put on his second-generation light-sensing glasses, clicked the ga icon, and entered Realms Online directly.
His figure slowly materialized in Vellari Village. The first thing he did was check the rankings, and to his shock, he had dropped to one hundred and fiftieth in the Arican region. Even more astonishingly, Zord Kane was still online, and his level had already reached twenty-three. The man’s pace was inhuman.
His handful of friends were all online too, and everyone’s level had climbed. Diana, the mature woman, had reached Level 21 and still held third place. Phoebe sat at second, unmoved at Level 22.
After repairing his equipnt, buying potions, and replenishing his arrows, Don ran straight out of the village and headed once more toward the Brugg base camp, still chasing that infuriating wine gourd.
Since it was just past eight, peak hours had brought out massive crowds. Monsters that had only just respawned were imdiately sward by groups of ferocious players and hacked apart in seconds. Don ran the whole way and finally arrived at the gates of the Brugg base camp.
But sothing was off. On each of the two outposts lay the corpse of a Brugg. One was charred, clearly hit by a mage’s fire magic. Don imdiately got a bad feeling. Has soone been here?
As he entered the camp and ran along the potato fields, his heart sank deeper with every step. Corpses lay scattered haphazardly across the ground, not yet cleared by the system, stretching all the way through the terraced fields.
Not just one person had been here. There must have been many, otherwise it would have been impossible to clear this entire area in just over an hour after the monsters respawned.
But he soon realized he was wrong. Just as he was about to reach the top of the mountain, a long line of leveling players appeared directly ahead. They wore bright armor, all Level 15 or higher. And most of their IDs carried the sa prefix: War Fire.
A smaller group nearby bore a different prefix on their foreheads, Gon.
’What rotten luck. If there’s a road to heaven, I won’t take it; if there’s no gate to hell, I’ll just barge right in.’
That was apparently how it went.
But before he could make a graceful exit, the sharp-eyed scoundrel Damon Teague spotted him. He glared with undisguised hatred, gritting his teeth as he cursed, "Boss! That son of a bitch! This bastard actually ca back here to die!"
His shout imdiately drew Nolan Hart’s attention away from a scout he was hacking down. The gang leader’s face turned ashen. "You son of a bitch, you’re asking for it! You dare to ambush us? Brothers, grab your weapons, kill him!"
But just as the players of the Gon Alliance reached for their weapons, a lodious voice called out sharply. "Nolly, what are you doing? That’s my friend!"
The gangster Nolan Hart imdiately waved a hand. "Brothers, wait!"
The girl who had spoken stepped forward. Don was stunned. She was tall, when she walked up to Nolan Hart, she stood almost his equal height, easily over 1.75 ters. Form-fitting gray leather armor hugged the perfect curves of her figure, and her long, silver-white hair cascaded down to her waist like flowing water. Beneath the perfect crescent moon overhead, her bright eyes shone like stars.
Although her skin had taken on the grayish-brown hue of a Dark Elf, Don still recognized her instantly. "Lily? How did you,"
Before he could finish, Lily strode over, grabbed his arm, and turned back, her teeth bared. "Let see who dares lay a finger on my brother! Anyone who tries, I’ll kill them on the spot!"
She raised her left hand as she spoke, and a swallowtail crossbow gleaming with tallic luster snapped up into firing position.
Just then, a deep voice ca from further away. "Oh? Lily, what happened?"
The Gon Alliance players imdiately scattered to the sides. A mage in a black robe walked into view, about 1.8 ters tall, lean, with stubble on his jaw, short neat black hair, and bright, piercing eyes.
His ID read Debtborn, and he was the fourth-ranked player on the leaderboard. He looked maybe twenty-seven or twenty-eight.
Suppressing his fury, Nolan Hart said, "Brother Lane, this guy took advantage of the boss-kill yesterday and wiped us out, then stole our equipnt. Even if Lily’s involved today, this brat owes us an explanation!"
The rascal’s mouth quivered with rage. "Bastard!"
Don said coldly, "Watch your mouth."
By this point, the combat team had finished off all the monsters in front of them and was rapidly forming up in disciplined ranks.
The various classes lined up in two neat columns along the hillside, all clearly well-trained.
From the distance, a tall, handso man approached. His black armor glead, and he gripped a long sword that radiated a chilling aura.
He was good-looking, but his gaze was too sharp, like an eagle’s. His ID confird his identity: Zord Kane, leader of the War Fire team. His real na was Elias Finch.
Beside him walked a beautiful woman with a full bust, curving hips, and a slender waist. She stood about 1.65 ters tall, with fair, delicate skin, her long hair tied up, an oval face, and slightly raised brows above captivating almond-shaped eyes. Her ID was War Fire Snow Fox, and her class was Priest.
"Lane, what happened?" Elias Finch’s voice was strong and firm, carrying a hint of natural dominance.
The man called Lane was, of course, Debtborn. The high-ranking mage smiled faintly. "Seems the brothers of the Gon Alliance have a small dispute with Lily’s friend."
Lily stayed calm and spoke coldly. "Brother Lane, my brother doesn’t cause trouble. It must’ve been the Gon Alliance, they saw my brother fighting a boss and tried to ambush him, but ended up getting themselves into trouble instead."
Don was startled. ’Lily, how can you say that as if you saw it with your own eyes?’
Nolan Hart snorted coldly but stayed silent.
Debtborn glanced at his boss.
Elias Finch smiled faintly. "Lane, I’ll leave this to you. It’s a small matter. Young people run hot-blooded. A little fighting now and then is good for the circulation."
Honestly, hearing that, Don thought the guy was putting on a show. He was only twenty-six or twenty-seven himself.
Lane, who clearly understood his orders, turned his gaze to Don and asked, "Brother. What’s your na?"
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