The First Big Payday (Page 1/2)

After freshening up, Jack couldn't wait to slap on his VR headset and dive back into the game.

"Whoosh!"

A flash of white light later, he reappeared in the bison territory, surrounded by freshly spawned beasts. Without hesitation, he whipped out his shiny new Bison Sword and hacked through a couple of them like they were butter sculptures at a county fair. True to his "waste not, want not" philosophy, he scooped up every single copper coin that clinked onto the ground.

"Huh?"

Suddenly, his eyes lit up brighter than Times Square as he spotted a pair of bracers lying next to one of the bison corpses. Snatching them up, he cast his trusty **Scouting Skill**, and the item stats popped up—

[Bullhide Bracers] (White Quality)

Defense: 2-2

Description: Made from bull leather, these bracers are about as stylish as socks with sandals. Only losers would even consider wearing them.

Jack had been grinding bison all night with efficiency that would make Wall Street traders jealous, yet this was only the second piece of loot he'd seen drop. The drop rates in *Eternal*? Lower than a limbo stick at a dwarf convention.

Slapping on the bracers, his defense bumped up to 16-18. At this point, the bison's attacks barely tickled him, dealing only one or two points of damage. For a newbie, his stats were now so absurdly high you'd think he was flexing cheat codes. He was officially "riding a rocket ship powered by pure beef," as some might say.

With no time to waste—and knowing most players were still stuck figuring out how to leave the starter village—he bolted back to town, drawing stares like a celebrity walking into a diner.

"Holy crap, it's a pro gamer!"

"This trash game has me trapped in the starter village while others are already flying off to Mars! I can't even scout his level—he's gotta be at least five levels above me!"

"I haven't even beaten a slime yet, and I'm ready to uninstall…"

In *Eternal*, there's no such thing as pants—armor covers both upper and lower body unless you're rocking some rare cosmetic gear. So, with weapons, armor, helmets, bracers, boots, greaves, and rings making up the standard seven-piece set, Jack looked like a knight among peasants. Sure, he lacked greaves and a helmet, but compared to the sea of noobs still rocking their default outfits, he was basically Tony Stark showing up at a garage sale.

Taking a deep breath, Jack cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Selling gear! Two items total, payment first, then trade!"

Alas, without an in-game megaphone system to broadcast announcements, shouting was the best he could do. Still, it worked well enough to draw a crowd faster than free pizza at a college dorm.

"Gear?"

Instantly, players swarmed him like bees to honey, forming a tight circle around him.

Holding up the Soldier Iron Sword and Soldier Leather Armor, Jack declared, "Highest bidder gets 'em."

"These two pieces of junk? Only I'd want 'em. A hundred coins each, deal?" one player sneered.

A hundred coins? Buddy, why don't you just try jumping over the moon while you're at it?

Jack gave him a look reserved for someone who just tried dividing by zero, repeating firmly, "Highest. Bidder."

"I'll pay five hundred!"

"A thousand!"

"Two thousand!"

Thankfully, not everyone was blind to value. These two mediocre white-quality items, which would've been ignored in any other game, were now selling for prices higher than a Tesla in a bidding war.

Scarcity drives demand—it's the golden rule of both gaming and real life. If something has even a shred of worth, people will throw money at it like confetti at a parade.

"Ten thousand for both! They're mine!"

A middle-aged man with sun-kissed skin and a build that screamed "weekend gym warrior" pushed through the crowd. After inspecting the gear and giving Jack a once-over, he grinned. "Kid's got skills. Ever thought about joining my guild? We can talk salary."

"..."

When five figures hit the table, the rest of the crowd went silent faster than a library during finals week. Offering ten grand for two soon-to-be-useless starter items? This guy clearly had more cash than sense. No one dared to compete.

"Sorry, I prefer playing solo," Jack replied, shaking his head. Guilds came with strings attached—mandatory raids, attendance checks, loyalty points, blah blah blah. And when it came time to divvy up loot? Forget it. Jack wasn't about to let someone else decide his fate.

"Fair enough."

The man didn't push. After all, groveling over a newbie—even a talented one—wasn't exactly dignified. Instead, he offered, "How about we add each other as friends? If you get any good drops in the future, sell 'em to us first. Price won't be an issue."