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A bullet whizzed through the air and embedded into the Elite. A group of players immediately began to fume.

"Again!! Who's the bastard doing this?! This is the third Elite we've lost!!"

"Anyone record where the bullet came from?"

"I mean at least we get to keep the mats.", someone attempted to make the group feel better.

"Mats aren't helping if we're falling behind on levels! Solicited was very specific on us staying on top."

"Solicited has his account being power leveled, he can spout bullshit all he wants but he isn't doing the grinding."

A Manifest gathered the materials and put an end to the arguing, "No more infighting. The only reason Solicited wants us to keep up with levels is so we can join him on grinding dungeons for the Org. He's been working more hours recently but still invests a lot of time helping the newer players."

"Which brings us back to our main point, who the hell is stealing our kills?!"

"I think it. . . wait a second."

The group of players turned their attention to see a player running away from the area. This was none other than Nimin's alt. Immediately the group gave chase, "I think we have our guy!"

"Damn I should've played Cybernetic for this!!"

"Cool yourself, I got it.", a player's hands reached outwards.

Part of the futuristic elements of Fractured Worlds, this class was known as Artificer! Utilizing a pair of high-tech gloves they began to touch a holographic keyboard. A large backpack they had equipped began to whir and spat out two orbs. These orbs rapidly unfurled and expanded into two mechanical hounds. Their teeth like saws as they stood ready for orders. The Artificer pointed forward an a mark was placed on Nimin's alt. Immediately the hounds kicked up dirt in pursuit.

{Model 7: Hunting Hounds}!

Artificer was the only summoning class available in Fractured Worlds! Utilizing its mechanical might to overwhelm and distract opponents! However these mechanical beasts often lacked durability and could rapidly be destroyed. Making Artificer once rated to be a horrible class.

It wasn't until a player found out the true way to play Artificer wasn't through the damage of the summons, but rather the effects they provided in tandem! 

'Model 7: Hunting Hounds' had an unlisted status effect based on their bites. If a hound successfully latched onto an enemy, it would give them a heavy slowness debuff. If both were to latch onto the enemy the victim would be pinned in place! Removing all their movement options making them almost entirely helpless. This could be avoided by destroying the hounds the moment they latched on, but still provided a moment of opportunity. 

Thus two niches were born from the hounds. To the average player, an annoying tool to keep them in place. To Pros, a helpful summon that forces the attention on the hounds. Like a tank designed to draw aggro. 

Nimin, however, remained completely unaware of the hounds chasing him. Instead he was calculating a theory on how many more Elites he would have to kill to reach his goal. Very rapidly the hounds pounced onto the alt and pinned it in place. Looking over at the screen Nimin frowned, "It was caught."

Not bothering to free himself he waited until the alt was killed before having it move again. It was much simpler to do it this way instead of having a chase occur in the Red Zone. However the moment he left the safe zone a group of players immediately surrounded him.

Frowning as he watched his alt helplessly fall underneath their combined might he crossed his arms, "They're catching on sooner than I thought. Are Orgs* more popular in this server? It's a little too coordinated."

Swiftly logging out of the alt he exchanged the account stick for another and headed towards the Red Zone. With a sly smile he spoke to himself, "I was prepared for this too."

Yet as he approached the Red Zone, a handful of players stepped in his path, "Sorry, but we're not allowing players to enter the Red Zone right now."

This. . . was monopoly? Nimin had predicted this was going to happen eventually, it always does, yet to do this at the level 50 Red Zone was maddening. Despite the latest levels being 65, the average playerbase has yet to reach even 60. The Red Zone was still a high traffic area. By monopolizing its resources you would gain the ire of every player and Org who had plans with it.

Sly Cheesecake: On who's authority?

"A list of the top ten Orgs. Someone's been snagging Elite kills and they're hunting them down right now."

"Shit. . .", Nimin grimaced.

He did not need even more Orgs trying to hunt him down. Switching back to Critical Shot he swiftly logged out. As long as you weren't in combat you could log out anywhere, it just left you open to being surrounded and trapped once you logged back in. This included the Red Zone.

Grabbing his account sticks and laptop he left the internet cafe. The camp allowed you to leave the grounds as long as you were back before curfew. Nimin still had an hour and a half, but now that he knew he was being hunted he cut the remaining time short.

As he returned to the camp with a clenched jaw he began to rapidly think of a new plan. His efforts in the Red Zone had netted him a significant boost to levels. Currently Critical Shot lay at level 59. He was just a bit short before level 60, if he reached there he could do dungeons for the remaining five levels. 

However the time required for that was far from enough. 

"As I thought, leveling alone is too difficult."

Barely resisting the urge to throw something, Nimin reviewed his situation. His team scouting was interrupted by Strict Business. He couldn't fight them without obtaining levels, which he needed a team for. His leveling tactics were being thwarted by more Organizations. . .

"Fuck!!", Nimin could no longer resist the urge and kicked a can sitting by the road.

Under normal circumstances Nimin would've just logged off and waited for the storm to pass. However with the time limit imposed on him he did not have the luxury. With the 2 year limit proving to be troublesome, and even the camp rankings within a few months, everything was proving to be against his best interests.

He massaged his temples in a poor effort to release some stress. Picking up the can he kicked he tossed it into a trash bin. Arriving at the camp he moved to his dorm room and fell onto his bed.

There was no other choice, he had to wait. If the Organizations continued to flex their manpower like this it was only a matter of time before they had war with the average playerbase. That would be a daunting and expensive war for no greater purpose. 

It was after coming to this conclusion that Sol entered the room. Seeing Nimin's poor state he asked, "Everything alright?"

"Orgs caught onto my tactics, now they're blocking off the Red Zone."

"Ha! Deathwish on their end."

"I thought so too, but it's a group effort of the top ten."

Sol frowned at this comment, "Top ten. . . ? Did you offend literally every powerhouse known to man?"

"I might have stole one too many Elites."

"Yeah I'm never grinding with you again."

"They don't know it's Critical Shot."

Placing his bag onto his desk Sol sat in his chair and leaned back as far as the chair would let him, "How?"

"My tactic. Not that I can abuse it now, with that much manpower they'll zero in on my location in moments."

"So I take it Red Zone hunting is off the table."

A heavy sigh left Nimin's lips, "Yes. It was going so well too."

"Well if it's of any consolation Carmen offered his assistance in leveling."

"Carmen? The uhh Captain player?"

"That one."

Nimin lifted himself into a seating position, "A top of the class player offered help?"

"He wanted insight on your playstyle."

"That much is obvious, I'm just making sure I'm hearing this right. A potentially future Pro support class player is offering help?"

"I mean do you want me to say yes in another language? Carmen Swintle is offering his assistance."

Swiftly moving to his desk he opened the camp's custom social media. Finding Carmen's page he send a direct message. 

Cole Sworn: You willing to grind dungeons?

Carmen Swintle: Talk about a jumpscare

Nimin found himself raising an eyebrow at the instant reply.

Cole Sworn: Not willing?

Carmen Swintle: No no, I just wasn't expecting you to be so straightforward.

Cole Sworn: I am in a troublesome spot, I don't have time!

Carmen Swintle: Sol told me. I'm willing to tag along though!

Cole Sworn: My pve gameplay is really quite boring.

Carmen Swintle: Ahaha, I'm more interested in your game sense.

Crossing his arms Nimin pondered this for just a few moments. Learning from his skills wasn't out the window, but copying it was basically impossible. Both on a technical and physical level. His account wasn't easily copied, especially the Unique Skill. Additionally his reflexes from his youth, and his experience from decades of playing, all of it was due to a god-like influence. 

Cole Sworn: We could use the help, when are you free?

In the end he accepted the help. It was a given, his current position didn't give him the luxury of choice. Besides, help from a high skilled player was simply too tempting!