The sun hung high in the sky, casting pale golden rays over the rooftops, stretching dappled shadows across the gray stone pavement.
A gentle breeze swept through, carrying the lively chatter of players gathering around market stalls, exchanging items, and conversing animatedly.
The central plaza was always bustling, like the heartbeat of the Starting Town, never truly coming to a stop.
But Ren no longer cared about that.
He walked straight toward the city gates, his steps steady, though his gaze carried a hint of contemplation.
The feeling of leaving this place remained the same as before, like crossing an invisible boundary between safety and the world beyond, where everything could change in an instant.
Near the entrance, a few groups of players were chatting with the NPC guards.
Some adjusted their armor, checked the swords at their waists, making last-minute preparations before setting out.
Others had just returned from their quests, weary but with eyes gleaming with satisfaction as they received their rewards.
These sights were all too familiar to Ren, a never-ending cycle of people stepping out, fighting, and returning to prepare for the next battle.
Without hesitation, he stepped past the gates, the cool stone beneath his feet giving way to soft grass and dirt.
The air outside was entirely different from within the town, fresher, wilder. A rich scent of wild grass and damp earth lingered in the wind.
Before him, vast grasslands stretched out, swaying gently under the sunlight.
Further ahead, a dense forest stood like a deep green wall, silent yet hiding countless unseen dangers.
This was a familiar hunting ground for low-level players, challenging enough to train in, but not so perilous as to risk death from a single mistake.
Ren came to a stop, opening his quest log to review its details once more.
Objective: Eliminate 10 Fangrats.
Location: Southern forest edge.
Reward: 300 Cor + a random item.
Fangrats.
They were small creatures, but far from weak. Their bodies resembled sewer rats, though nearly as large as small dogs, their mottled gray fur camouflaging them perfectly against the earth and fallen leaves.
Their deep red eyes gleamed with hunger, and their sharp fangs could pierce flesh if underestimated. A single one was no real threat.
But being surrounded by a pack… was a completely different story.
Ren tightened his grip around the hilt of his sword, feeling its familiar weight in his palm.
The blade had been sharpened since its last repair, good enough for him to fight without issue.
He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, clearing unnecessary thoughts from his mind.
There was nothing to worry about. This was just a simple quest, one small step on the long road ahead.
Without further delay, he moved off the main path, heading toward the forest edge, where dark green branches stretched out as if inviting him in.
But Ren had underestimated one problem… the sheer number of players flooding the hunting grounds.
He had assumed that this area would be quieter after the wolf pack attack, that survivors would be more cautious and avoid reckless hunting.
But the reality was the exact opposite. More players had gathered here than expected, spreading out in small groups, relentlessly hunting monsters to complete their own quests.
The atmosphere at the forest's edge was almost suffocating with tension. The clash of weapons, the hurried footsteps, the cries of slain Fangrats all blended into a chaotic symphony of battle.
Everywhere, players wielded swords, spears, and skills in synchronized combat.
The ground was littered with red pixelated remains of recently slain monsters, disappearing into the air before others could rush in to claim their next target.
Fangrats weren't rare creatures, but with players constantly hunting them, finding a living one to fight had become a struggle.
Ren stood at the forest's edge, scanning the battlefield before him.
In the open grasslands, a trio of players worked together seamlessly, one drew the Fangrats' attention, another struck at their openings with sharp slashes, while the last landed finishing blows.
They moved like a well-oiled machine, wasting no time. The Fangrats barely had a chance to resist before they were wiped out in an instant.
Further away, another party was hunting at an incredible pace.
Their swords flashed through the air, landing precise strikes that took down Fangrats before they could even flee.
They didn't need to speak, each movement was perfectly in sync, no one stealing kills, no one leaving openings.
Around Ren, scattered solo players attempted to join the fray, but most struggled against the organized groups.
The lone hunters were pushed to the outskirts of the battlefield, waiting for a chance to snatch a remaining Fangrat, if they were lucky.
The impatient ones dove into the chaos, trying to steal kills from parties, only to receive annoyed glares or cold warnings in return.
Ren tightened his grip on his sword, frustration welling up inside.
Even with his combat skills and equipment advantage, he couldn't do much in the face of such a relentless crowd.
He had no party and wasn't fast enough to snatch kills before others.
Frowning slightly, he took a step back, deep in thought. If he kept wandering like this, he might waste an entire day without even slaying a single Fangrat.
And if he fell behind, this quest would drag on longer than expected, eating into time better spent training and earning more Cor.
He needed to change his approach.
Taking a deep breath, Ren scanned the area again, this time focusing on less obvious spots.
If he couldn't compete in the main hunting grounds, then he had to find another way to reach his goal.
His steps slowly led him away from the crowded field, deeper into the denser trees.
If the Fangrats were being hunted relentlessly in open areas, then perhaps they had retreated further into the forest. And that was where he would place his bet.
But the other hunting grounds were even worse.
Ren had assumed that moving away from the center would give him a better chance to find monsters without competition.
Yet, the moment he stepped into another area, he realized he had made a serious mistake.
These zones had already been claimed.
Not by one or two players, but by tightly organized groups.
They weren't just ordinary monster hunters. They set their own unspoken boundaries, made their own rules, and brazenly controlled the entire area as if it were their own territory.
Ren wasn't the only one caught in this situation.
A few other solo players had come here, hoping to find prey, but the moment they stepped in, the atmosphere shifted.
Cold, sharp gazes swept over them.
One of the enforcers, a tall swordsman clad in dark leather armor, stepped forward.
He didn't need to draw his sword or utter any threats. His mere presence was enough to make the air feel suffocating.
When he spoke, his deep, husky voice carried an unspoken pressure.
"Leave."
The other members of his group silently rested their hands on their weapons. No further words were needed, the message was clear.
Ren stood still, feeling his heartbeat slow for a brief moment. He realized this situation was worse than he had expected.
Another player, a short-haired young man who also seemed to be a lone hunter like Ren, frowned in frustration. "This is a public hunting ground. What gives you the right to keep others out?"
The tension in the air thickened, stretched taut like a bowstring ready to snap.
The swordsman chuckled softly. It wasn't a lighthearted laugh, nor an amused one, it carried pure disdain.
"Right?" He smirked. "Simple. Because we outnumber you."
The moment his words fell, one of his comrades suddenly swung their sword.
The blade cut through the air, slashing straight toward the young man. Though it was only a warning strike, the killing intent behind it was real.
The young man managed to jump back in time, but his eyes flashed with anger.
"Bastard!"
He gritted his teeth, tightening his grip on his weapon, muscles tensing as if ready to retaliate.
But before he could make a move, another member of the group raised their weapon, poised to strike the moment any resistance was shown.
A heavy silence blanketed the area like a thick fog, choking the space.
Ren quietly observed the situation, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his sword. He could feel the cold creeping into his fingertips.
If someone unsheathed their weapon, if even a single mistake was made, a fight would inevitably break out.
And he wasn't sure he could walk away unscathed.
He understood his limits. He could handle one or two opponents in a fair fight.
But facing an organized group, one that fought with coordination and experience? Even if he leveled up a few more times… it would still be difficult.
No matter the world… people like them always held the advantage.
They had numbers.
And in Aincrad or anywhere else, that meant they had power.
However…
The advantage of numbers only lasted for a while. As time passed, the gap between the "haves" and the "have-nots" would grow, not because of numbers, but because of individual strength.
Once someone reached a level where their stats, equipment, and skills surpassed the norm, they could single-handedly overwhelm an entire party.
Personal strength could surpass the masses. But to reach that point, one crucial thing was required, resources.
And resources, experience, gear, the best quests, were monopolized by those who had the early advantage.
These groups controlled hunting grounds, hoarded growth opportunities, and blocked the path for those who came after.
The cycle continued.
The strong grew even stronger.
And those oppressed… could only struggle to find a way out.