LEVEL UP!!! Now the fun starts!

Yuli's grin stretched from ear to ear. "Don't mind if I do!" With a thunderous stomp, he crossed the short distance to the first chest and flung the lid open.

Velt called after him in excitement, "That's a Mythic chest—the second-highest rarity!"

Yuli gave a triumphant laugh. "Well deserved for what we did!" He leaned in and lifted out a gleaming Ruby suit of armor.

"Finally—armor!" Yuli declared, sliding the first pauldron onto his shoulder. "Now I can raise my defense." He strapped on a vambrace, then a greave, and finished by cinching the breastplate tight.

Velt approached his own chest with cautious anticipation. When he opened it, all he found was a single scroll. He frowned, picked it up, and unrolled it. The parchment bore nothing but a simple arrow.

Yuli, fully armored now, looked over. "What did you get?"

Velt held the scroll at arm's length. "I believe this is an art… but I don't know what kind of art."

"Art, like a painting?" Yuli asked, cocking his head.

"Not that kind," Velt replied. "More like loot art—magic art, style art, fighting art."

Yuli shrugged. "Right, so use it. It's from a Mythic chest or whatever. It must be good."

Velt cringed. "If it's a magic art, it'll be near useless…"

"You'll never know if you never try," Yuli encouraged.

Velt sighed and placed the scroll against his chest. The parchment dissolved into glowing motes that sank into his skin.

"There we go," Yuli murmured, flexing his newly enhanced muscles—only to watch his armor crumble into dust.

"What—?!" Yuli exclaimed as fragments of his Ruby suit drifted away.

Velt turned sharply. "What happened to your armor?!"

Yuli shrugged helplessly. He pulled up his player sheet with a quick gesture and scrolled through the entries. Suddenly, his eyes darkened, and his face twisted into a scowl of disgust.

"We have super classes…" he muttered.

"Oh yeah, right. Why the long face?" Velt asked, peering over.

Yuli's gaze flicked between lines of text. "Every time you level up your defense, instead of going up by one, it goes down by one. But your strength increases by two, and your dodge percentage increases by one percent. You can't equip armor."

"Don't tell me that—" Velt began.

"That's my super class," Yuli finished flatly. "It's called Glass-Juggernaut."

Velt staggered back. "What?! How are you supposed to be a tank with… negative defense???"

Yuli ran a hand through his hair. "Negative defense means I take more damage than usual."

"Just what I needed," Yuli sighed.

"How much defense do you have?" Velt pressed.

"Minus ten," Yuli replied.

Velt did a quick mental tally. "So your strength should be at 119, and your dodge rate 20%."

"I take ten extra damage, though…" Yuli said, opening the full stat screen. The totals glowed before him: Strength 119, Stamina 20, Speed 11, Dexterity 11, HP 20, Defense –10, for a combined stat total of 171.

Velt nodded. "Speaking of super classes…" He summoned his own character sheet. His new totals appeared: Dexterity 30, Speed 30, Stamina 15, Strength 10—an overall total of 85. He scrolled down to his acrobatic passive.

"It's gone," he whispered.

"Huh? Your passive is gone?" Yuli asked in surprise.

Velt shook his head. "Yeah. What the hell happened to it?"

"Maybe you were shadow-nerfed," Yuli suggested.

Velt snorted. "One day, someone finds a way to break records with an unpopular class, and they just straight-up remove the main passive."

"Sounds about right," Yuli agreed.

"Why so calm?" Velt frowned.

"Because if they think yanking one ability will stop us, they're mistaken." Yuli's voice carried a quiet confidence.

Velt sighed. "It does take away all of my power. My damage is gone." He scrolled further and brightened. "But… I gain the Focus action. After using Focus, critical hit chance increases by 5% for two minutes. If you land a critical hit, all your stats double—and that can stack."

"Was that the scroll you found or your super class?" Yuli asked.

"I think it's my super class—Zone Bather."

"See? You can still deal damage." Yuli clapped him on the shoulder.

"I… guess?" Velt admitted. "Of all things to get as a super class, it's not the worst—but it wasn't how I intended my build."

Yuli started walking away with purpose. "Maybe you'll shape your build into what you want eventually."

"Where are you going?" Velt called after him.

Yuli glanced back, grinning. "Have you forgotten?"

"What?" Velt replied, puzzled.

"That we were going to start a party."

Velt hesitated—then his heart lightened. I didn't expect him to actually want me in his party…

"Wait, really? Don't you think I'd be a liability with only one HP?" he asked, uncertainty in his voice.

Yuli waved a hand dismissively. "No one else would team with me—someone who can't even take a punch. Two liabilities together make one hell of a duo."

Velt's chest tightened. All along I didn't trust him, but now I see who he really is… a good man.

"Yeah, you're right," Velt said softly.

"Let's go make that party." Yuli strode off, leaving Velt momentarily frozen in place.

"Yuli!" Velt called, rushing after him.

The hammer-wielder stopped and glanced back with a broad grin. "Yes?"

"You make parties from your menu—there's no place here for it." Velt tapped his wrist where the menu interface hovered.

"Oh, right. I knew that," Yuli said with a laugh.

Velt opened the menu and selected "Create Party." A confirmation popped up: "Are you sure?"

I can't be that bad… Velt thought, then tapped "Yes."

Later that day, the two friends sat in a bustling tavern, mugs of frothing ale in hand. The great hall was alive with laughter and song, overflowing with raucous parties gathered at every table. Serving tankards to the revelers was a dwarf smaller than average, his long beard draped over his shoulders like a cloak and a curvy unibrow arched above bright, cheery eyes. Yuli and Velt exchanged a satisfied nod—this was the start of something new.

Yuli leaned back in his chair, draining the last of his frothy mug. "That dwarf guy sure looks weird!" he declared, nodding toward the stout server weaving through the crowded hall.

Velt followed his gaze. "That's Merl, owner of the Merl Taverns. He's a player who dedicates himself to serving drinks—so popular he owns a chain of taverns around the world."

Yuli's eyebrows shot up. "And this is all free?"

"Yep," Velt confirmed with a grin. "I don't think anyone hates him."

Yuli swiveled in his seat to face Velt. "So, what's next, party leader?"

That's right… I am a leader, Velt thought, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders. He straightened. "We need more members. A full party is five, with only one of each role—tank, warrior, sweeper, healer, caster, disturber, buffer. We need people who fit those slots perfectly."

Yuli scratched his chin. "Such as?"

"You've taken the tank slot, though you play more like a warrior."

"My mistake for being a glass cannon," Yuli chuckled, flexing his unarmored arms.

Velt studied his own stats. "I'm a sweeper—speed-based fighters meant to catch enemies off guard and grab the loot."

Yuli shrugged. "What about healers?"

"Most classes can heal," Velt replied. "So a dedicated healer isn't a priority. We should hunt for a caster—someone who can strike from range. Usually they can buffer, too, so that covers two roles."

"Right. Where do we find one?"

"Out in the world—if we get lucky. Most players just queue for a party in the starting lobby."

Yuli slammed his mug down. "Sounds boring. Now that we can actually level, why not team up while we grind? We might find someone good on the road."

Velt shook his head with a smile. "It'll be hard."

"But it's more fun," Yuli said, rising and hoisting his empty mug. He clapped Velt on the back. "Let's roll."

They stood and waved their thanks to Merl; the dwarf owner simply nodded and disappeared into the crowd.

Outside, the tavern's warm glow gave way to the vast lobby beyond. Yuli turned to Velt. "Since we're teammates now, I should tell you more about myself."

"What is there to know?" Velt asked, curious.

Yuli's expression darkened. "My background. I'm a criminal."

They halted mid-step. Velt stared into Yuli's resolute eyes.

"Former criminal…?" he ventured.

"No—just a criminal."

"How can you say that so casually?!" Velt blurted.

Yuli uncapped a scroll and pressed it into Velt's hand. It unfolded to reveal his bounty: one million gold for his death.

Dammit, my instincts were right! Velt's heart pounded. He's a criminal—now he has me under his thumb!

Yuli pocketed the scroll. "I trust you won't turn me in. We're allies, right? It'd be a shame if we fell out and fought."

Velt's mouth went dry. "What did you do to earn that bounty?"

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"Then why tell me?"

"Because if I'd kept it secret, you wouldn't trust me. Secrets break parties."

You could've told me sooner! Velt thought, but forced a nod.

Yuli started forward again.

I really should've had second thoughts… Hanging around with him might be bad business, Velt admitted to himself as he rushed to catch up.

Night had fallen by the time they reached the jungle's edge. Moonlight filtered through the dense canopy, illuminating a quartet forging a path through shadow. A heavily armored knight led the way, his greatsword resting on one broad shoulder. Behind him, a less-armored goblin skipped forward, dagger glinting. A young wizard followed, staff in hand, eyes glowing with arcane curiosity. Bringing up the rear, a frog monk—green skin slick and smooth—moved with surprising grace, silent as the night itself. Together, they vanished into the darkness.

A sudden chill crept through the jungle as the four walked in uneasy silence. At last, the Frog broke the quiet."Why can't we just make a camp?" he croaked, his webbed fingers rubbing together.

The Knight scowled. "I told you, we don't have the materials for a camp."

The Goblin's stomach growled so loudly it seemed to echo off the trees. "I'm… hungry."

"Suck it in," the Knight snapped over his shoulder, his patience fraying.

The Wizard wrapped his cloak tighter. "It's getting cold…"

"Shut it!" the Knight barked, kicking at a gnarled root. "God, did I pick the wrong party members?"

They trudged onward, frustration hanging heavy in the humid air—until a faint glow flickered through the undergrowth.

"Is that a camp?" the Frog guessed hopefully.

"No," murmured the Wizard, his eyes widening. "It's much greater than that…"

The Knight straightened, sword tapping against his boot. "I guess we should go check it out."

They followed the light down a winding path until a colossal structure loomed before them: a vast building crowned with gilded wings, its entrance emblazoned with the words Heartcore Guild in sweeping gold letters.

"A guild building," the Knight announced.

"Maybe they have shelter," the Wizard suggested, stepping forward.

"Maybe they have food!" the Goblin added, rubbing his belly.

Up the broad stone steps they went. The Knight rapped sharply on the great oaken door—and it swung open almost immediately to reveal a casually dressed man with a lazy smile."Oh, wassup, come in." He stepped aside as though he'd been expecting them.

Inside, the hall stretched on and on. Some men stared blankly at mossy walls; others simply stood idling in small clusters. But most were hulking figures, muscles rippling as they lifted immense weights, plates clanging in rhythmic echoes. The Knight's lips curved into a satisfied grin.

Before they could speak, another man—also in casual garb—approached."Are you guys here to join the guild?"

The Wizard opened his mouth to answer, but the Knight stepped forward, chest puffing out. "Yes!"

The rest of the party exchanged bewildered looks. "What?!" they protested in unison.

"Don't you see the vision?" the Knight said, voice brimming with conviction. "If we join a guild this early, we'll be safe for the rest of our journey! No more worrying about food or shelter—every expense covered!"

"I'll trust you on this, boss," the Goblin said with a solemn nod.

A few minutes later, they were ushered through corridors lined with trophies and banners. At last they entered a grand chamber, where dozens of men knelt, hands resting on their knees, all eyes fixed on a throne. Seated there was the boss herself: a woman of shocking beauty, her skin pale as moonlight, eyes glowing red, and hair the color of spun gold. Beside her stood a towering warrior—a broad-shouldered woman with unruly orange hair cascading down her back, wielding a battle axe so massive it looked forged for a giant. Despite her scant armor, she radiated raw power.

The Knight strode forward. "Where's the boss?"

The pale woman inclined her head. "I am the boss. My name is Fell, and you want to join my guild, correct?"

"How did you know?" the Knight asked, awe mingled with excitement.

Fell's red eyes glittered. "I have eyes and ears everywhere, honey." With a soft pink poof, a scroll appeared in midair before her.

"Sign this contract, and I'll let you join my guild," she said, her voice smooth as silk.

The Wizard leaned toward the Knight. "Boss, I think you should read that contract—"

The Knight waved him off with a laugh. "We'll be fine."

At his command, a quill materialized before the scroll. The Knight grasped it and began to write.