“Because I’m Famous”

Grey navigated the chaotic mass of shouting transmigrators, scanning for a nametag labeled [Greed].

He was grateful that his username had to be learned before the tag became visible. Nevertheless, this advantage was not infallible. If only one person pointed at him and said: "That's him! That's Greed!" his nametag would light up like a string of Christmas lights.

Ordinarily, Grey would capitalize on this opportunity. Like pro-streamers, he aimed to establish his brand and advertise his racketeering ventures.

Yes, advertise.

Say. "I break the law."

"I help others break the law."

"So come risk your freedom with me!"

Although it might seem foolish, criminal organizations are businesses, and it's essential for people to know they exist. Consequently, the core of organized crime is evading legal consequences rather than avoiding detection.

Organized crime syndicates employ three distinct methods to elude legal action:

1. Threaten to kill people who testify.

2. Kill the people who didn't listen.

3. Separate management from illegal actions.

This structure makes apprehending criminals like Pablo Escobar or El Chapo incredibly challenging—even when authorities know their actions—because they never directly commit crimes, and nobody will testify against their orders.

In essence, managing a criminal empire without landing in prison is easier than it appears—if one is willing to resort to extravagant levels of violence. Or, they operate within Myriad Online, where racketeering is legal, murder is encouraged, and transactions are anonymous. In that case, it's a just-add-advertising Christmas miracle jammed into an easy button for anyone who's simply a bad person.

That's why Grey found it regrettable that he couldn't advertise and had to concentrate on the pressing objective of staying alive. Nevertheless, he remained focused on leaving and prayed he wouldn't be spotted.

As the teen exited the training area, he weaved through clusters of transmigrators toward the exit checkpoint. After a few minutes, he spotted the large iron gate. It was mostly empty, as players needed weapons and training before venturing out.

He was almost home free.

"Greetings, soldier!" a brown-haired man greeted him with a toothy grin. "My name's Major Mann."

Or not.

Grey's eyebrow twitched, prompting him to disregard the major and concentrate on eavesdropping the surrounding chatter.

-

"Greed? The guy from the video? No, I haven't seen him."

"Yeah, we've been looking around for him too. What do you want with him?"

"Sorry, we can't talk. I hope we meet again soon, ladies."

"Bye!"

-

The videos were spreading Greed's face like wildfire, and once someone saw it, his tag would show up! While he wanted to cover his face, he had to leave the checkpoint. It was a nightmare.

"I see you're leaving without a combat class," Major Mann continued, unfazed by the teen's indifference. "Markov is at war, so it's dangerous outside. Why don't you let me show you to the training halls to help you choose the right class?"

─┈━═[New Opportunity: Choose a Class!]═━┈─

"No, thank you," Grey growled, striding towards the gate. "I'll choose my class when I'm ready. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"W-Wait, soldier!" the man cried, chasing him. "There's fighting in the streets. At least let me take you to an armory to get a gun!"

─┈━═[New Opportunity: Buy a Weapon!]═━┈─

Grey's ears perked up when he heard people nearby soliciting people.

-

"Yeah, I think that I just saw that guy!"

"Where'd he go!? We need to talk to him!"

"Um, I think he's that way. I'm pretty sure...."

"Thanks!"

-

"I'm. Not. Interested. In. [Anything]," Greed seethed. "Now, please leave me alone. Now!"

"Please, transmigrator!" Major Mann pleaded, drawing attention. "At least tell me where you're going! I'm responsible for the transmigrators; I can't let someone waltz to their death without a valid reason!"

His words attracted the attention of dozens of players—and hell broke loose.

-

"You're leaving without a gun? Can't you hear the bombs, you noob?"

"Yo, chill, Triple Threat. He might know where a quest is. What's going on?"

"We're throwing together a party. Are you interested?"

=

The corner of Grey's mouth twitched as he heard people trying to recruit him mid-conversation! In that moment of severe irritation, he developed a devious, venom-laced expression.

"I'm on a unique quest," Greed smiled. "I spoke to someone on-site who mentioned an opportunity in Ridgemont Heights, so I'm checking it out. I'm going solo, but feel free to catch up later."

"W-WAIT!" Major Mann screamed. "Y-YOU CAN'T GO TO RIDGEMONT HEIGHTS! ARE YOU INSANE!?"

The curious players scrutinized the man's reaction, wondering if the teen was playing them. However, the teen resumed walking, pushing past the soldier swiftly.

"Tell that to my map marker," Greed grinned mischievously.

The area turned into a social dumpster fire when he implied he had an official quest and didn't get scammed.

-

"It's an official quest!?"

"Do you want to party up!?"

"Wait, are you a beta tester!?"

"Take me with you!"

-

A tidal wave of requests crashed into the teen, who no longer had anyone blocking him. After all—

"WAIT, EVERYONE!" Major Mann yelled. "LISTEN TO ME! RIDGEMONT HEIGHTS IS A RESTRICTED ZONE 30 MILES AWAY!"

His shouting caught the attention of the two guards at the checkpoint, who nodded to Grey before rushing to the commotion. Soon, other military personnel joined as well.

"We don't care; let us through!" An athlete sneered. "At the very least, we want to talk to him!"

"No, listen to me!" the major repeated. "I don't know what that kid was talking about, but Ridgemont Heights is an autonomous zone. If you're caught there, they'll shoot you on sight!"

The players exchanged incredulous glances.

"That son of a bitch!" Triple Threat, the pudgy teen with a red face and a pugnacious attitude who called Greed a noob snapped. "Let us through!"

"No, we can't do that!" Major Mann insisted.

"We're not going to Ridgemont Heights, idiot!" Triple Threat snorted. "We're going to kill that little brat for feeding us false information!"

The guards looked to the major for confirmation. As long as the players didn't run off to their deaths, there was no reason to stop them from leaving.

However, before Major Mann gave the order to let them pass, a socio-thermonuclear shitstorm exploded in his face.

-

"I SEE HIM! HE'S WALKING OUT OF THE GATE!"

"Hurry up and catch up to him!"

"We need to know where he's going!"

"GREED, WAIT UP! WE'RE OFFERING 1,000 CREDITS TO KNOW HOW YOU GOT YOUR BLESSING!"

"Wait, did she just say [Greed]?"

"Holy shit, that's fucking Greed!"

"Greed! Wait, what the hell? Why can't we get past?"

"Let us through!"

-

"LISTEN TO ME!" the distraught major cried. "DO NOT FOLLOW THAT TRANSMIGRATOR'S ADVICE OR YOU'LL END UP DEAD!"

Dozens of soldiers arrived as hundreds of players tried to get past them. They needed riot shields but had to make do with pointing their guns at the players.

Grey walked calmly yet inconspicuously to the exit checkpoint, where a soldier had his pistol drawn. The man wore gray digital camouflage like him, along with a name tag. "Hello, can I pull out my ID, Second Lieutenant Briggs?"

"You may, but you best not try anything," Second Lieutenant Briggs said coldly, watching him like a hawk.

The teen reached into his gray trousers and pulled out a Markovian ID. It had a Markov identification number that worked at the base and bore his name: Greed.

"What did you do?" the soldier asked.

"I'm meeting a Blue Medallion escort to take me to my job interview in Ridgemont Heights," Grey replied shamelessly. "One group of fools tried to follow me, so Major Mann prevented them from chasing me."

Blood drained from the man's face when he heard the teen was meeting with a Blue Medallion.

"As for everyone else, it's because I'm famous, so the major is preventing hundreds from chasing me into danger," Grey explained. "Now, can you please let me through? Otherwise, I'll have to contact my—"

"No need, Mr. Greed!" Second Lieutenant Briggs said sharply. "Since no one's trying to stop you, I see no reason to prevent you from leaving. Have a great day, sir!"

"Thank you, Second Lieutenant," the teen smirked, casually walking out the entrance gates.

-

"THEY LET HIM THROUGH!? WHY CAN HE GO TO RIDGEMONT HEIGHTS!?"

"Shut up; he's not going to Ridgemont Heights! Haven't you been listening?" Triple Threat scoffed. "He was trying to lead players to their deaths, LightningWitch42!"

"Yeah, that asshole's gonna pay!" a blonde declared. "And drop the 42, you tool!"

"In a twist of fate, I got my advertising in, after all," Grey mischievously smirked, hearing the chaos behind him.

Ding!

-

─┈━═[World Announcement!]═━┈─

Player White Rabbit has become the first player to have 100,000 live viewers for one stream.

Their achievement has made history and will get recorded in the Myriad Record for all eternity.

─┈━═━┈━═━┈━═━┈─

-

Grey read the notification in the corner of his eye with a strange expression. "It's as if fate is begging me to throw oil on this fire," he grinned. "No advertising on earth is more effective than negative PR campaigns. It's free, and impactful, and all the degenerates never forget your name.

So why not? Let's see how people react when they learn I went to Ridgemont Heights."

After a slight chuckle, he walked onto a shattered street in Markov City, mischievously grinning as he went to pay some escorts.