Chapter 6

So, funny thing about bullshitting your way through life.

It only works if the person you're scamming isn't a reality-warping nightmare in disguise.

Because just as I turned to leave—thinking I had successfully walked away with free money and zero consequences—the shady bastard teleported right in front of me.

I froze mid-step.

He was still smiling. Which was worse.

The playful con-man act? Gone. What stood in front of me now was something colder. Less "I might scam you," and more "I might peel your skin off just to see how it looks on my wall."

"You think you're clever, don't you?" His voice was calm, but something about it itched at the back of my skull.

I stayed still, keeping my expression neutral. "I mean, I wouldn't say genius, but yeah, I do alright."

The space around us felt wrong. The buildings, the shadows—they stretched. Like the whole street had subtly warped to accommodate this guy's presence.

"You can play whatever games you like," he continued. "But if you mess with me again… you'll die."

Well, shit.

My mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.

Yeah, I had nothing.

This wasn't some low-level bandit NPC I could talk in circles. This guy was dangerous.

I was already regretting my life choices when he suddenly pulled something out of his coat—a small, black-wrapped package.

"Take it."

I didn't move. "And if I don't?"

He tilted his head, studying me. Something shifted.

The world around me dimmed. The background noise—players talking, merchants shouting—vanished.

And suddenly, I felt it.

Something very, very bad was staring at me through this guy's eyes.

"Then I'll just have to find another courier…" he said softly. "And a good place to leave your corpse"

Ah. Okay. Yup. I'll take the package.

I snatched it out of his hand way too fast, then cleared my throat like I had meant to do that casually.

"Smart choice," he said.

I stared at the package. It was light. But something about it felt… wrong. Like it had mass that wasn't physical. A weird, heavy presence in my hands.

"Where am I taking this?" I asked.

"Lord Mortreign's estate. The noble district."

Figures. Rich people.

"And what exactly am I delivering?"

His grin didn't falter. "No questions. No mistakes."

Classic shady quest logic.

He took a step back, then paused. "If they ask you anything," he said, voice casual, "say just one word. Excidium. Then leave."

I frowned. "What does that mean?"

His grin widened. "Not your concern. Just don't forget it."

Before I could ask anything else, he vanished.

Not walked away. Not used a teleport spell.

Just. Disappeared.

Like the world had briefly glitched, and he was never there to begin with.

I exhaled.

"…Great. Love that for me."

The noble district was a whole different beast.

The moment I stepped past the checkpoint, it was like I had entered another world.

Gone were the grimy streets and desperate merchants of the common districts. Here, everything reeked of wealth. Not just wealth—obscene, over-the-top, 'we eat gold flakes for breakfast' kind of wealth.

The cobblestone streets were pristine, polished to the point that I could probably see my reflection if I squinted hard enough. The buildings weren't just big—they were massive gothic estates, complete with towering iron gates, carved statues, and more unnecessary decorative arches than any sane architect would ever approve. Everything was unnecessarily grand. Even the street lamps looked like they were forged out of pure silver.

The people? Even worse.

The NPCs in the lower districts had at least felt somewhat grounded—merchants haggling, laborers moving crates, kids running around. Here? It was like walking through a museum full of snobby aristocrats who occasionally blinked.

Men in crisp, embroidered coats strolled past without sparing a glance. Women in extravagant dresses—draped in jewelry that probably cost more than my entire existence—sipped wine on balconies like they were attending some eternal opera. They walked like they had never been late for anything in their lives.

And the best part? They ignored me.

No sneers. No disgusted looks. Nothing. It wasn't even that they disapproved of me being here. It was worse. I simply didn't exist in their world.

I spotted two other players as I walked—one leaning against a fountain, another speaking to a noblewoman.

The first guy looked like he belonged here. Level 17, decked out in sleek, custom-tailored armor that actually looked expensive. He had that 'I grind dungeons for profit' kind of swagger.

The second guy? Not so much.

Level 13, wearing mismatched gear—like he had looted half his outfit from a clearance bin. He was gesturing wildly while talking to the noblewoman.

She took one look at him, sniffed, then turned on her heel and walked away without a word.

The guy just stood there, shoulders slumping.

Oof.

So, yeah. If the slums treated players like disposable garbage, the noble district treated them like air.

I exhaled. Whatever. Not my problem. I had a delivery to make.

As I kept walking, I finally spotted my destination—a sprawling, gothic mansion looming in the distance. High, black-iron gates. Silver torches burning with blue flames. The kind of place where every window probably had someone watching from behind the curtains.

Alright. Let's get this over with.

I stepped forward.

And the moment I did, the guards at the gate immediately turned their heads toward me.

Oh. Right. This was probably not going to be easy.

One of them, a tall guy with a ridiculously polished breastplate, stepped forward and raised a hand. "State your business."

I held up the package. "Delivery."

The guy didn't even glance at it. His eyes remained locked onto me, cold and unreadable. "Who sent you?"

Great. A security check.

I considered my options.

Tell the truth? Bad idea. I doubted "Some shady bastard who may or may not be a supernatural murder machine" would go over well.Try to bluff? Eh. Worked last time, but this felt riskier.Say the magic word?

Yeah. That seemed like the best bet.

I cleared my throat. "Excidium."

The reaction was instant.

The other guard, who had been leaning against the gate looking bored, immediately stiffened. The first one, the polished breastplate guy, narrowed his eyes slightly.

For the first time since I arrived, I had their full attention.

And it wasn't friendly.

"Wait here," the first guard said, his voice sharper now.

So, I stood there. Awkward.

The second guard hadn't moved an inch, but his eyes were locked onto me like he expected me to do something incredibly stupid at any second.

And honestly? Fair. That was usually how things went.

I exhaled and shifted my weight, glancing down at myself.

Yeah. I looked like absolute shit.

My clothes were still torn and stained from my little bonding session with the local wolf population. The bite on my arm? Gone. No wound, no pain, just slightly sore skin where I knew I had been bleeding before.

That was… actually kind of cool.

I hadn't paid much attention at the time, but now that I thought about it, my injuries had closed up on their own after a while. No potions. No healing items. Just passive regeneration.

Which was great and all—except for the part where the blood hadn't magically disappeared.

I sighed and glanced at the sky.

How much time had passed since I logged in? Hours? A full day?

And more importantly… what about Eric?

Had he logged in yet? Was he stuck in Shadow Land like me, or did he start somewhere else?

For all I knew, he was already off in some other city, getting screwed over by his own garbage tutorial NPC. Or maybe he had just logged out before things got weird.

Lucky bastard.

I flexed my fingers, feeling the weight of the package still in my grip.

For now, I had bigger problems. Like not getting murdered for delivering whatever the hell was in this thing.

I exhaled and turned my focus back to the massive gate ahead.

A loud ehm snapped me out of my thoughts.

I glanced over. The guard who had been staring at me earlier jerked his head toward the gate. Right on cue, the heavy iron doors groaned open.

Oh. Guess I was allowed in now.

I stepped forward, my boots hitting the pristine stone path leading straight to the mansion's front entrance. The place was massive—easily bigger than anything else I'd seen in this city.

I barely made it halfway up the path before those giant doors swung open on their own.

And out walked a woman straight out of someone's very specific power fantasy.

Tall. Blonde. Legs for days. Skirt just barely staying on the right side of professional. The kind of hot that made me briefly forget I was here on shady business.

She stopped in front of me, crossing her arms. "Courier?"

I blinked. "Uh. Yeah."

She smiled. "Thought so. You don't exactly blend in." Her eyes dipped to my shirt. "Rough day?"

I glanced down. Right. Still covered in dried wolf blood.

"Eh," I said. "Could've been worse."

She let out a soft laugh, then turned on her heel. "Follow me."

And just like that, she was off.

I kept pace, taking in the hall as we moved. Surprisingly quiet. No maids. No guests. Just long, empty corridors and walls lined with expensive-looking paintings that probably cost more than my net worth.

I debated making conversation. Something casual. Maybe ask her what was actually in the package I was carrying.

But before I could, we stopped.

She pushed open another set of massive doors without knocking.

And sitting at the desk inside?

A player.

Not an NPC. Not some stuck-up noble. A full-blown, glowing-name-above-his-head, way-higher-level-than-me player.

Lord Mortreign – Level 72.

My brain short-circuited for a second.

Oh. Oh, shit.

Mortreign looked up from whatever he was working on, expression calm. "Ah. The courier arrives."

And that's when it really hit me.

This wasn't just some noble's house.

I had just walked straight into a high-level player's domain.