The Frenchman stood motionless, his piercing blue eyes locked onto Ali with an intensity that could unnerve even the bravest men. His massive fists clenched, and as his grip tightened, a powerful gust of wind erupted around him.
The sudden surge of air pressure was strong enough to slam the shop's door open, causing it to snap back violently against the wooden frame with a loud BANG. The shelves trembled, the delicate trinkets and magical items shaking from their places as the air howled through the small shop.
The merchant flinched, but with Ali standing as a wall between him and the looming threat, he found the courage to speak.
"Get out of my shop before the supervisors come here and kick you out themselves!" the merchant snapped, his voice firm despite the underlying fear.
COUGH. COUGH.
The slave girl coughed weakly, still recovering from Ali's telekinetic grip earlier. With a pained breath, she forced herself upright, her trembling hands clutching her throat as she struggled to translate her master's words into English.
The Frenchman slowly unclenched his fists.
And just like that—
The violent winds vanished.
Silence fell over the shop, the eerie stillness broken only by the gentle rattle of a few lingering items on the shelves. The towering man pointed at Lisa, his thick fingers hovering directly over her small, delicate hand.
Then, in broken English—
"Ring."
His finger turned back toward himself.
"Mine."
COUGH.
The blonde slave wiped her mouth, her voice still raspy from earlier, but she did her job—she translated.
"Sell the ring to me, or I will hunt your daughter down and kill her—slowly."
Her tone was flat, robotic, void of emotion. But the words carried a weight that sent a cold chill down the merchant's spine.
"I don't care if the ring disappears after that."
The Frenchman licked his lips slowly, a twisted, depraved smile curling across his face. His hungry gaze settled on Lisa, like a predator savouring the moment before the hunt.
"Killing her will be more satisfying to me than getting the ring."
Lisa froze.
The merchant's face turned red, his hands balling into tight fists, his entire body trembling with helpless rage.
"GET OUT!" he roared, slamming his hands onto the wooden counter.
The Frenchman grinned. He held his hands up in mock surrender, his broad shoulders shaking with amusement at the merchant's outburst. With slow, deliberate steps, he turned around and made his way to the exit.
His slave followed behind him, hesitating only for a moment. Before stepping out, she cast a quick, fearful glance back at Ali—her eyes filled with something close to desperation.
Then, they were gone.
SIGH.
The merchant let out a long, exhausted breath, his hands finally unclenching as he leaned heavily onto the counter. His face was pale, his eyes filled with deep frustration—he knew this wasn't over.
Ali remained standing, his expression unreadable.
"You wanna explain what just happened?" Ali asked, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, his voice void of concern.
It was Lisa who answered.
"His name's Philip. They call him the Dice Devil. He wants this."
She lifted her hand, revealing a simple but elegant gold ring with a brilliant blue sapphire resting on her index finger.
Ali's eyes narrowed.
"What's special about the ring?" he asked, his tone feigning ignorance.
Lisa held up the ring proudly.
"It gives three attribute points in Luck to the wearer. My father found it back in the Slum, and it helped us grow our business to where we could afford this shop. But that bastard—" she pointed angrily toward the door, "—somehow found out about the ring, and now he won't leave us alone. He keeps harassing us—inside and outside the shop. He won't take no for an answer, no matter how many times we tell him."
Lisa then reached forward, grabbing the official Merchant's Guild insignia that rested on the counter—a bronze medallion that signified their membership in the guild.
"We asked the guild for help." Her voice was filled with bitterness. "But they just told us to sell the ring and move on. What kind of guild doesn't protect its own members?!"
The merchant's face twisted with irritation.
"Lisa, stop. That's enough!" he snapped, ripping the medallion from her grasp.
Lisa whipped around to face him, her eyes blazing with defiance.
"Father, what else can you say?! He walked into the guild's territory, almost attacked you, and then left without a single consequence! Nobody did anything!"
Her voice rose, her frustration boiling over.
Ali watched the entire argument in silence.
Then, after a moment—he cut in.
"I have two hours to spare today."
His voice was calm, but commanding.
Lisa immediately turned her head toward him, her anger fading into confusion.
Ali's lips curled into a slight smile.
"Go change into something suitable."
Lisa's eyes lit up with excitement. She barely hesitated before nodding enthusiastically and rushing upstairs, her hurried footsteps echoing through the building.
The merchant watched her go, his tired eyes filled with deep concern.
Then—
"She's going to die."
The merchant's eyes snapped wide open.
He whirled around, looking up at Ali in horror.
"What did you just say?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly.
Ali's black eyes remained cold.
"I said your daughter will not make it back if she becomes a player."
His tone was matter-of-fact. His words held no hesitation.
The merchant's face paled.
Ali stepped closer, his gaze piercing.
"You know that."
Silence.
A long, painful silence stretched between them.
The merchant lowered his head.
"I—I can't stop her…" he admitted, his voice barely a whisper.
Ali didn't react.
Instead—He continued.
"After today, rumours will spread about what Philip wanted from you—if they haven't started already."
The merchant stiffened.
Ali's voice remained calm, cold, absolute.
"Players will know what your daughter has on her finger. An item worth betraying teammates for. Even if you send her with a group of players you trust, or hire bodyguards to protect her—they will turn on her."
The merchant's fists clenched.
Ali continued, his words like a dagger twisting deeper.
"Other players will hunt her down for it. And that's not even considering the dangers of the worlds she'll enter."
Ali turned slightly, reaching down to pick up the black mask from the counter.
He ran his fingers over the golden lines, inspecting them with his Force sense.
Then, without looking up—
"But the ring isn't the problem."
He set the mask back down.
"The problem is a little girl who can't fight, thinking it would be 'fun' to start off as a player on the second level."
The merchant said nothing.
But his silence spoke volumes.
Ali heard Lisa's hurried footsteps upstairs.
He turned back toward the merchant.
"I can save your daughter's life."
The merchant's breath caught.
Ali's next words were slow. Deliberate.
"And I can make her want to stay with her father."
The merchant's hands tightened against the wooden counter.
His jaw clenched.
He looked up, his tired eyes hardening.
He already knew what came next.
His voice was low.
"What do you want?"
Ali's gaze remained fixed on the merchant, his dark eyes unwavering as he pressed forward with his words.
"It looks to me like what brought you luck all this time is now bringing misfortune." His voice was calm but carried an undeniable weight. "Maybe it's time you let it go."
That was it—his terms.
There was no hesitation in his tone, no room for negotiation. Ali had laid his claim, and now the burden was on the merchant to decide.
'I was planning to take my time with this,' Ali thought to himself as he watched the man struggle for an answer. 'Maybe seduce his daughter, make them owe me a favour, or even resort to a little… persuasion.'
His fingers twitched slightly as he leaned against the counter, his presence alone suffocating.
'But the French idiot saved me a lot of time.'
Lisa's footsteps echoed through the shop, growing louder and louder as she descended the stairs. Ali didn't turn to look at her—he didn't need to. With every step she took, the merchant's resolve wavered even more.
The older man's hands gripped the wooden counter tightly, his knuckles turning white. But as the sound of Lisa's footsteps neared, he slowly let go.
He turned around just in time to see his daughter emerge from the staircase, dressed in the leather armour he had bought her not long ago.
Her eyes sparkled with excitement, her lips curling into a wide smile as she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around her father in a tight embrace. The moment was brief but heavy, a silent exchange of emotions between father and daughter.
Then—
Lisa pulled away from his arms and hurried past Ali, barely glancing at him as she made her way toward the door. She opened the counter hatch swiftly and turned back with a beaming expression, her enthusiasm radiating off her like heat.
"Come on, let's go, teacher!"
Ali remained still for a moment, his gaze drifting back to the merchant.
The man met his stare, his tired eyes filled with unspoken words.
Then, without saying anything, he simply gave a slow, reluctant nod.
Ali's lips curled into a knowing smirk.
The deal was sealed.
Without another word, he turned away and followed Lisa out of the shop, stepping onto the busy streets of the Merchant's District, where dozens of players walked by, their eyes flickering toward the pair with curiosity.
Lisa stood beside him, practically bouncing on her feet in anticipation, waiting for him to say something, to teach her something.
Ali let the moment stretch for a few seconds before speaking.
"First lesson."
Lisa instantly straightened up, listening intently.
"For a player to survive, they have to adapt very quickly to changes in their surroundings."
Lisa nodded seriously, soaking in every word like a sponge.
Ali lifted his right hand casually, bringing two fingers together.
"Like this."
And then—
CLICK.
Ali snapped his fingers.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH—!
Lisa barely had time to react before she was launched into the air, her body propelled by an unseen force. Her heart nearly leaped out of her throat as she flailed mid-flight, her mind racing in sheer panic.
Her eyes widened in horror as the ground beneath her vanished, replaced by open sky, and for a moment, all she could think was—
'I'm going to die!'
Elsewhere on the Second Level—Inside a Private Virtual Meeting Room
A secret gathering was taking place
Inside a vast virtual chamber, a long, imposing table stretched out beneath the dim glow of artificial light. Around it sat dozens of figures, each shrouded in heavy cloaks, their faces hidden beneath deep hoods.
The only distinguishing mark between them was the insignia of their respective guilds, embroidered into the fabric of their robes.
This was a meeting of power.
And every major to medium guild on the Second Level had sent their representatives.
Every major guild—except one.
The Adventurer's Guild was not present.
"We've already sent warnings to all the major independent teams about what will happen to them if they join."
The voice came from the representative of the Shadow Guild, their tone low and menacing.
But the response was immediate.
"It's not working."
This time, the speaker was from the Water Guild, and his frustration was evident.
He leaned forward, his gloved fingers tapping impatiently against the table.
"Before, they would have easily cowered and listened to our demands, but now—" He exhaled sharply. "Now, it's different. I don't know what those bastards are being promised, but whatever it is, it's making them arrogant."
A tense silence filled the room.
Then, a voice spoke up.
"Upgrade."
The single word cut through the air like a dagger, drawing the attention of everyone in the chamber.
The speaker was the representative of the Lightning Guild, his voice carrying a weight that demanded attention.
"What do you mean? Speak clearly."
The speaker from the Rock Guild slammed his heavy fist onto the virtual table, his deep, rumbling voice laced with irritation. Though his hood covered his face, everyone in the meeting knew who he was—one of the most formidable warriors on the Second Level.
The Lightning Guild representative did not flinch.
Instead, he leaned forward and spoke with calm certainty.
"From what I've heard, every player in the Adventurer's Guild has access to a unique power—one that allows them to pay Paradise Coins to upgrade their skills, spells, or any supernatural abilities they have."
A slow murmur rippled through the meeting.
The tension in the room shifted.
For a long moment, nobody spoke.
Then—
"And the cost?" someone finally asked, their voice unreadable.
The Lightning Guild representative exhaled.
"It depends."
More silence.
Then, he continued.
"The upgrades and their cost vary depending on the quality of what is being improved."
That revelation shook the room.
And then, as if to put the final nail in the coffin—
The Lightning Guild representative spoke the name of this power.
"They call it… Adventurer's Spirit."
A heavy silence filled the chamber.
There was no shouting, no immediate outbursts of rage.
Only the implications of what he just said to them was left.
Please donate some of your power stones, it would help my ff massively.
Five chapters ahead of webnovel on patreon.com/Rondo312