"Prepare for contact!"
Titan's voice was like grinding stone as he raised his battered kite shield. His team had only rested for a few minutes, but their bars were stable. Beside him, the girl with the staff, Black Dahlia, was still muttering to herself.
"He definitely thought I looked gross because of the mud," she whimpered, nearly in tears. "That's why he wouldn't add me. I'm a mess... ugh!"
But her self-pity was cut short by a sound that chilled the blood of everyone present: a synchronized, wet clicking from the darkness.
Over a dozen Crawl-Beasts emerged. Within heartbeats, they had fallen upon a different six-man party nearby, tearing through them with surgical cruelty.
Titan braced for the impact, expecting the swarm to turn on them next. But something bizarre happened. The pack of monsters paused. They looked at Titan's group, noticing the heavy shield, the glowing staff of the Seer, and the disciplined formation, and let out a series of low, clicking hisses.
Then, they turned and vanished back into the trees.
They fled.
"They... they ran away?" Dahlia gasped, her staff trembling.
"They aren't stupid," Titan muttered, his eyes narrowing. "They saw we weren't easy prey. They're looking for the path of least resistance."
It was a terrifying realization. These monsters weren't just waiting to be killed for XP; they were hunting. They formed packs, they assessed risks, and they harvested lifespan. As the team watched, the monsters dragged the "life-orbs" of the fallen party deeper into the forest to digest them.
The Resurrection Point: Shell Town
The plaza was a vision of purgatory. Beams of white light struck the stone floor every few seconds. Every player who reappeared looked like they had been through a meat grinder.
"I just wanted to hit Level 3 so I could go home," one woman sobbed. "I didn't think it would be like this."
"The monsters are grouping up," a man shouted. "We need more people! Groups of twenty or thirty!"
"That won't work!" another retorted, his voice cracking. "A forty-man group just got wiped by something called 'The Cursed One.' One skill took out thirty of them instantly. We're trapped here!"
Panic was the new currency of Shell Town. But amid the terror, eyes kept drifting to the leaderboard.
Rank 1: Shadow , Level 3
"How is he doing it?"
"He's soloing. He has to be. He's the only one at that level."
"Shadow is the only one who actually knows how to play this game."
Among the panicked crowd, Rhea stood with her team. Her face was grim. She had died three times already. Her initial eighty years of life had been whittled down to a mere ten. If she died again, she was looking at the end of her existence.
Beside her, the soft-spoken girl, Chloe, was literally shaking. "Rhea... we've only killed four mobs. We're nowhere near Level 2, let alone Level 3. We're going to die here."
Rhea looked at the name "Shadow" at the top of the board. An idea sparked in her eyes.
"Spread the word," Rhea commanded her team. "Tell everyone in town. I am offering 10 million dollars, real-world currency, to 'Shadow' if he carries me to Level 3. I just want to get back to reality."
The news spread through Shell Town like wildfire. A 10-million-dollar bounty for the top-ranked player to act as a bodyguard.
Deep in the Darkness
Silas was oblivious to the bounty on his head. He had just finished a run of ten Crawl-Beasts, using his perfected stealth-loop to dismantle them one by one. His Hand of Greed had finally coughed up the last Evolution Point he needed.
"Arbiter's Protocol... Evolve."
[Consumed 5 Evolution Points. Hand of Greed: Platinum -> Emerald]
Effect: Chance for additional loot increased to 160%.Passive Bonus: Additional loot has a 20% chance to Tier-Up (e.g., Bronze loot becomes Silver).
Silas's eyes blazed. This was more than just double-drops. This was a direct violation of the world's drop tables.
"If I kill a Bronze boss, I have a one-in-five chance of pulling Silver gear," Silas calculated. "And if I keep evolving this... I'll be wearing Mythic gear while the rest of the world is still in rags."
He checked his map. He knew where the "Cursed One" was, the dryad-construct that was currently feasting on the massive party it had just slaughtered.
"It's about to evolve into a Silver-tier Boss," Silas whispered, his fingers tightening on his corrosive dagger. "Which means it's about to drop my first piece of Silver gear."