“I’m getting tired of this,” KidFury sneered.
“But don’t worry,” KidFury continued with a mocking grin, “the guild’s crew will keep rotating. Even if I log off, there’ll always be someone here to play that important role. I hope there’s someone at your place to disconnect you manually… otherwise, you’ll have to wait for the next maintenance! HAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Hayato’s thoughts churned darkly:
Power abuse in online games—the brutal art of subjugation by sheer force. I’ve witnessed it time and again, in games both minor and grand, their loopholes exploited for merciless domination. I never cared enough to do it myself; I never saw the need to oppress someone weaker. But never did I imagine that one day… this would be my fate. Perhaps I deserve it…
By now, any spark of life in Hayato’s eyes had nearly vanished. He was but a vacant vessel for the cruelty inflicted upon him.
“I’m done. Someone else take my place…” KidFury announced as he casually stepped back, leaving his minions to continue their relentless assault. With a muttered curse, he added, “Ahh, looks like the toy’s broken. Damn, I ruined the toy.” Then, KidFury and several others logged off.
The Outlaws were abuzz with crude remarks.
“Count me in too.”
“This is so fun, hahaha.”
“My turn now.”
The Outlaws reveled in their sadistic game—until a voice cut through the chaos from atop a distant sand dune.
Kiba: "Looks like I’m a little late to the fun. Perhaps I can make things a bit more… interesting."
The threat in that calm, chilling tone silenced the bloodlust for a heartbeat. All eyes turned upward, while the respawned Hayato remained as motionless as a broken puppet.
The Outlaws erupted with disbelief.
“He came to play too!”
“But unlucky for him, only a few have logged off so far.”
“Wouldn’t it be stupid to try something against such a big group?”
“Is he really willing to engage in PK?!”
“Idiot! As if he could kill anyone here!”
A flash of anger crossed Kiba’s face as he surveyed Hayato’s near-vegetative state. Without hesitation, he slid down the dune, his spear gripped tightly in one hand while the other manipulated an in-game menu as if summoning his own destiny.
The Outlaws watched in stunned silence as a system message blazed across every screen:
WAR OPEN
[Mugen no Yari] ?? ??? [OutLaws]
Slowly, Hayato’s senses began to flicker back. What is he doing here? Is this some twisted hallucination? he wondered.
When Kiba reached the base of the dune, he strode toward the Outlaws with deliberate, seething anger. Among the enemy ranks, a warrior and a mage—both of whom had previously fallen to his hand—recognized him instantly.
“It’s him!” one voice trembled in shock.
Another cried out, “He was the one who killed me and my friend!” Puffing up his chest in false bravado, he added, “Did he come to ask for peace like last time? Please, just stop! Hahaha.”
Kiba’s eyes hardened into a cold, unforgiving glare. “I think you’ve got it all wrong. Peace? You all crossed a line that should never have been crossed. I won’t stop until every last one of you is eliminated.”
In a heartbeat, Kiba hurled his spear. It sliced past a trembling mage and impaled another who had dared linger near Hayato. The victim’s body slammed into a ruined wall—and then vanished as though teleported to the city the moment death claimed him.
At that moment, Hayato’s full awareness returned, and every enemy’s attention shifted to the deadly spearman. A fighter lunged with a right cross, yet Kiba merely stepped back, one hand raised in a casual yet threatening gesture. As if obeying some unspoken command, his spear reappeared in his grasp. Soon, a warrior and a swordsman emerged—the swordsman edging slightly ahead—while an assassin crept in from behind, dagger poised for a kill.
With lethal precision, Kiba spun his spear. The rear end of the weapon deflected the swordsman’s blade, while its tip found the assassin’s back. In a fluid twist, Kiba dodged the warrior’s desperate swing and charged toward Hayato.
“Where are the mages and archers? What are you waiting for? Shoot him!” bellowed an enraged Outlaw, even as their healers scrambled to revive fallen comrades.
Before any projectile could hit its mark, Kiba was upon the group of healers. Targeting the highest-level healer (Level 50), he unleashed a brutal skill—impaling the target repeatedly until he fell instantly. As another healer began casting a revival spell for a fallen ally, panic spread through the ranks. Seeking to save himself, the healer shoved his guildmate toward Kiba before turning to flee. The unfortunate ally was intercepted and eliminated in a single, swift blow—the impact proving fatal.
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Using his spear as both weapon and shield, Kiba advanced toward the final healer. With ruthless efficiency, his relentless assault caused significant damage, leaving little room for counterplay.
Amid the chaos, several players rushed to block his path—but Kiba was faster. He flung his spear, embedding it in the ruined wall. Using it as a makeshift trampoline, he soared over the interlopers, descending with a move that mimicked a deadly spear thrust. Just before impact, as his spear’s cooldown ended, the weapon materialized back in his hand to impale the last fleeing healer.
Staggering from the fall yet undeterred, Kiba rose with one knee and one foot planted on the crumbling ground. Glancing over his shoulder, he evaded a torrential rain of arrows—fired relentlessly by hunters—and spells by weaving among the ruins. He sprinted toward a cluster of mages who had huddled together for safety. With a swift activation of his “Spear Toss” skill—the same devastating technique he’d employed earlier—he impaled four low-level mages in one brutal motion. The remaining few barely had time to react, teleporting away in a desperate bid for survival.
Not long after, two assassins attempted to ambush him from behind. In a blur of motion, Kiba grabbed them by the dagger-wielding hands and flung one to the right and the other to the left. As they flew through the air, his spear returned once more. With savage efficiency, he impaled the assassin on the right, ending his threat immediately, and then used a nearby wall to vault himself and dodge a volley of incoming arrows and spells.
The assassin flung to the left spun desperately to regain control, but Kiba was already upon him in mid-air. A series of precise, fatal slashes ended the assassin’s life as he struggled against the inevitable.
Kiba vaulted onto the second level of a ruined structure and began a frantic, acrobatic run—jumping from one precarious ledge to another. This desperate ballet allowed him to dodge a cascade of projectiles and outmaneuver any sword-wielders pursuing him. Spying a group of mages who had teleported too close together, he leaped from a rooftop and landed squarely atop one, impaling the mage in the back. The victim crumpled and, moments later, vanished.
Without pause, he surged forward, dispatching two more mages with rapid strikes and impaling blows. As a bolt of lightning hurtled his way, Kiba dodged with a spinning leap and used the momentum to hurl his spear at the nearest mage. The weapon struck the mage’s foot, pinning him in place. Frantic, the mage tore at the spear—but Kiba reclaimed his weapon and finished the desperate foe with swift, merciless cuts.
One mage, realizing his impending doom, halted his casting and fled, screaming in despair. Kiba’s cold gaze remained fixed on the remaining threat—a formidable mage whose relentless lightning spells had nearly found their mark. Kiba closed the distance; although the mage managed to block two of his spear strikes, Kiba’s unyielding assault caused significant damage. In a final, brutal move, Kiba drove his spear deep into the mage’s chest. Before the mage could vanish completely, he slammed his staff onto the ground in a last, desperate act to ensnare Kiba with shifting sands, leaving the spearman momentarily trapped.
Then, a torrential rain of arrows began to fall from above—fired relentlessly by hunters. In response, Kiba activated a unique defensive skill: raising his spear high, he spun it like a helicopter blade. The whirling weapon deflected every incoming projectile until the barrage finally subsided. Seizing the moment, he wrenched himself free from the sand’s grip.
Before long, the vice-leader of the Outlaws—a hulking fighter—charged in, unleashing a furious series of punches. Kiba ceased his forward momentum and focused solely on evading the blows while deflecting stray arrows with his spear. Circling the fighter with a predatory grace, Kiba’s intent was clear: to humiliate his enemy. Realizing too late that he was merely a plaything in Kiba’s deadly game, the fighter roared in anger, “You bastard, stop running! All you do is run away, you wretch!”
A cold smile crept over Kiba’s face as he landed a series of savage cuts, ending the fighter’s resistance.
When the final arrows ceased and no further high-level threats remained, the surviving Outlaws stood frozen—stunned into silence. In that charged moment, Kiba’s voice rang out with icy determination:
“So… are you going to continue? Anyone who dares approach—come at me if you want. I won’t budge. If you choose to return from the city, I’ll be waiting.”
One by one, the Outlaws scattered into the distance, leaving only Kiba and a disbelieving Hayato behind. Shaken by the carnage—and by Kiba’s ferocious display of skill—Hayato slumped onto the sand, a mixture of relief and profound despair etched on his face.
Kiba walked over and stopped before him. “So? How long are you going to just sit there?”
“Why?” Hayato murmured, his voice barely audible.
Kiba’s tone turned mocking. “Cat got your tongue? Where’s your gratitude?”
Still silent, Hayato repeated softly, “Why?”
For a long moment, Kiba’s expression softened with a tinge of sadness. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Chisa warned me, but I truly took my time finding you in this vast map.”
“Why?” Hayato’s voice trembled with the weight of his confusion.
Passing by him, Kiba sat down behind Hayato and rested his weight against his back. “I need a reason to save someone from my own guild,” he admitted, his voice low and regretful.
A heavy silence fell before Kiba finally added, “I think we’d better get out of here—before their whole guild comes back.”
“Okay,” Hayato replied in a whisper.
The two returned to the city in a strained silence. As soon as they arrived, Chisa rushed forward, her eyes full of worry. “Are you alright? Did they do something to you? Are you hurt?”
Hayato offered a small, tired smile. “It’s just a game—you can’t really get hurt…” he replied.
Chisa frowned. “That’s true, but you still seem... off.” Her gaze shifted sharply toward Kiba.
“I did nothing—only saved him,” Kiba defended, his eyes evading hers.
Finally, Hayato spoke with fragile earnestness, “Thank you for saving me, and I’m sorry for causing trouble for the guild.”
(Now is not the time to hesitate—I will use everyone and everything around me…)
Chisa’s expression softened as she smiled. “That’s right. You can count on us—this time, for real!”
Before they could settle into any semblance of peace, a familiar, mocking voice interrupted:
“Well, well, if it isn’t the fugitive mouse and his lackeys.”
KidFury had appeared in the city, flanked by a retinue of henchmen—the dark promise of a battle yet unfinished.