Miguel turned slowly, letting the weight of the moment hang in the air, and with deliberate calm, pulled out a small ornate chest.
Standing just a few feet away, Thunderblade frowned, his gaze narrowing as a flicker of recognition flashed in his eyes. He knew that chest. He was sure he'd seen it before—he just couldn't place it.
"What's in the box?" Thunderblade asked, suspicion lacing his tone.
Miguel gave a nonchalant shrug, his voice casual, almost lazy.
"Nothing special. Just a Skill Chest. No idea what'll come out of it. Hopefully it's not trash."
At those words, Thunderblade's pupils dilated. The image clicked in his mind—he had seen that exact chest before.
It was from a viral video on the Godmaking Online forums—a video that had been viewed millions of times. He remembered it vividly: the streamer had opened a Skill Chest just like this one… and out popped a Legendary Assassin skill. Because it came directly from the chest, the skill had been instantly bound to the player. No learning prerequisites, no restrictions.
Normally, if someone got their hands on a Legendary skill scroll, it came with a mountain of conditions before they could even think about learning it.
Some skills were racial—locked to specific races.
Some were class-bound—restricted to a particular profession.
Others had strange requirements, demanding certain attributes before you could even attempt to unlock them.
But skills from a Skill Chest were different. The moment you opened it, the skill didn't just become available—it fused into your very being. You could be a human and pull a Dragonkin skill, and it would still work. You could be a robed mage and suddenly get a swordsman's ability—nothing stopping you from wielding your staff like a blade.
Now, as Miguel's fingers brushed the chest's clasp, Thunderblade's panic kicked in.
"Wait—wait, brother Miguel!" Thunderblade lunged forward and grabbed his arm. "Look, I'll give you five hundred thousand Flame Nation coins. Sell me that chest. Please!"
His expression was pitiful, eyes wide, as though begging for his life.
Miguel arched an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"Now you want to buy it? Too late. Not for sale."
He tried to shake the man off, but Thunderblade's grip was desperate, iron-tight.
"I'm warning you—let go," Miguel said, his voice dropping to a low growl. His eyes hardened, his tone edged with danger. "Or I'll show you exactly why the flowers are red."
Thunderblade flinched but didn't release him.
"One million! One million Flame Nation coins!" he blurted, his voice cracking. "That's my final offer. Come on, man, do me a solid. You're handsome, strong—you'll get another Skill Chest someday, I know you will. But me? Look at me—ugly as hell, barely scraping by. This might be my only shot."
Miguel stared at him in disbelief. This guy was actually insulting himself just to sweeten the deal? That was… a first.
Thunderblade's eyes darted rapidly, and then he tried one last, desperate card.
"Alright, listen—money's not all I'm offering. I'll… I'll throw in a person too."
Miguel blinked, caught off guard. "A person?"
"Yes. My sister," Thunderblade said quickly. "You sell me that chest, and I'll set you up on a date with her."
Miguel let out a long sigh and rolled his eyes.
"With a brother like you, your sister must've done something really terrible in a past life."
Thunderblade scratched the back of his neck, giving an awkward laugh, but his eyes never left the chest. His mind was spinning with possibilities—what if he got a Legendary skill? Or better yet… an Epic-grade one? With the right pull, he could rocket from nobody to top-tier overnight.
The allure was too strong. Skills in Godmaking Online were rare. Unlike most MMOs where leveling unlocked a skill tree, here there was no such thing. Players had to find other ways to learn skills—quests, loot drops, hidden events. Even the simplest Bronze-rank mage spell, Fireball, cost 100 gold from the Mage Guild in the main city. That was 10,000 Flame Nation coins in real money… for a Bronze skill.
Above Bronze came Silver, Gold, Dark Gold… and beyond that, skills so rare they weren't even sold by NPCs.
This was why Thunderblade's eyes burned with hunger for the chest. In his mind, the idea of opening something worthless never even crossed his mind—everyone believed they were the lucky ones, the so-called "Chosen."
If Miguel hadn't already obtained +10 Luck earlier, he might have considered selling the chest. Sure, in the future, when Godmaking Online merged with reality, all Earth's currency would turn into worthless paper—but that day was still far off. With one million coins, he could live comfortably until then.
But instead, Miguel's expression hardened.
"Get out of my way."
His boot shot forward, slamming into Thunderblade's chest and sending him sprawling several meters back.
Without another word, Miguel knelt and opened the Skill Chest.
"No—!! My Epic skill!" Thunderblade's scream ripped through the air, a wail of pure heartbreak. His voice cracked into something so pitiful that even Miguel's heart twitched with a sliver of guilt.
Just a sliver.
Because the next moment—
Ding!
You have opened the Skill Chest.
Ding! You have obtained the skill [Nirvana Rebirth] (God-tier).
Miguel's breath caught. A God-tier skill?
Before he could react, the chest burst into flames, and from within soared a magnificent bird wreathed in crimson fire. It let out a shriek that shook the sky—"Screee!"—before diving straight at him.
The instant it touched his chest, the world blazed. Fire roared across his body, surging upward until it seemed he was about to burn the heavens themselves.
From the ground, Thunderblade lay frozen, staring with wide, glassy eyes. His lips trembled, his mind unable to comprehend the sight before him.
Miguel—no longer just a player—looked like the very incarnation of a Fire God.