It’s time.

  We’re deep inside a dungeon—a 200-man guild huddled within a low-level solo dungeon, fully equipped with the highest-tier gear available in the game.

  You might wonder why we’re here. Is there some hidden boss? Or are we just bullying low-level mobs?

  Neither. Our goal is far greater: to free this land from corruption.

  "Everyone, sharpen your weapons! Drink all your buff potions! Special units, move to your designated voice chats! The enemy’s troops will pass by soon!"

  "Sir, yes sir!!!"

  The guild members hurriedly prepared—chugging high-tier potions, devouring high-end food, and warming up for PvP. Some even spammed random emotes, trying to cope their anxiety.

  This is the moment we’ve been waiting for. If we win this fight, we’ll purge this land of a corruption known as real-money trading (RMT).

  We’re in Favonia Online, a hardcore sandbox MMORPG where you can lose your equipment upon death. In this world, you can be almost anything—a farmer, builder, merchant, city guard, dungeon raider, and more.

  But for us—the 200 players hiding in this small dungeon—we chose to be at the top of the food chain, members of a top-ranked competitive guild.

  In this game, guilds can control portions of land on the No Man’s Continent. It’s a lawless, cutthroat region where PvP reigns. By capturing a magic tower, a guild can claim territory and build a hideout. They can even allow allied guilds to build around them. The developers designed this for alliances, but a massive coalition exploited it, creating an RMT empire.

  "Kaizer, they’ll zone into the area in 30 seconds," said Mourn, my scout and right-hand man, clad in leather armor and a black cloak.

  "Alright, Mourn. Everyone, prepare to zone out!"

  The battle begins.

  This zone is the main battlefield, swarming with over 1,000 players from highly reputed guilds. Our plan is simple but bold: ambush the enemy by zoning out of this solo dungeon and striking their flank.

  As we emerged, we found ourselves directly behind the enemy army.

  "This is a good position. Scout, inform me when our allies engage the enemy. In the meantime, everyone mount up and reposition," I commanded, climbing onto my mount.

  "Kaizer, they’ve engaged! Heavy casualties on both sides. It’s time to strike!"

  "Alright! Everyone, follow me!"

  I led my comrades straight to the enemy’s backline.

  "Dismount here! Dismount here! Crowd control team, handle their defensive tanks! They know we’re here and are preparing to engage. Get our defenses up and healers ready!"

  [Shield Sphere]

  [Yggdrasil’s Will]

  Multiple layers of defensive magic formed a half-circular dome in front of us. Druids summoned towering tree-bark barriers, and bards played their instruments—an eerie orchestra in the heart of the warzone.

  A brutal storm of magic tore through our defenses. Shields cracked, barriers shattered—but our healers moved like clockwork, pulling back the fallen before the enemy could finish them off.

  "They’re on cooldown now! This is our chance! Control tanks, form a clump. Engage in 3...2...1...!"

  Now it was our turn to shine. Their defensive spells were still on cooldown from engaging our allies.

  We crashed into their backline, unleashing everything we had. Casualties mounted on both sides. This was no weak enemy—they ruled most of the No Man’s Continent, renting land to smaller guilds and selling in-game currency for real-world money.

  Dozens of spells lit up the battlefield—magical beams, war mount abilities, dragon breath scorching the ground. Assassins struck down key players. Reinforcements surged back and forth.

  After three relentless hours, it was over.

  We had won.

  The magic tower’s color slowly shifted from red to blue, signaling our coalition’s capture.

  This was the highest-tier zone in the game, yielding the best loot from every activity. Strategically positioned with only one entry point, it was once packed with guild hideouts. Now, only one remained—and it was on the verge of collapse.

  This war had raged for six months—a brutal coalition conflict involving hundreds of guilds, from top-tier powerhouses to struggling underdogs. Every day, each guild fought its own battles. I estimate that hundreds of thousands, possibly even millions of dollars' worth of equipment were lost. I personally died twice in the final battle, costing me nearly $20,000 in top-tier gear.

  At least the war loot wasn’t bad. Victory in the game’s largest battle comes with rewards.

  While I sorted post-battle paperwork in my office, there was a knock on the door.

  "Come in."

  "Hey Kaizer, that was incredible. Feels like we’re the good guys in this game, hehe… but that’s not what I came to talk about!" said Raelyn—a massive woman clad in heavy plate armor, one of our best tanks.

  "Oh, Rae. What’s up?" I asked, still organizing paperwork.

  "That’s what I want to ask you. When was the last time you slept?" she demanded, slamming her hand on the table.

  "Uh… right after the battle?" I shrank under her imposing presence.

  "No! I mean in real life!"

  "Oh… yeah. When was it?"

  "You’ve been at this war for too long. You need to rest, man. I know this is our guild’s goal, but you need to take care of yourself."

  "You’re right. Now that you mention it, I don’t think I’ve eaten yet."

  "Log out and get some rest!"

  After Rae’s scolding, I logged out—returning to the real world... back to the version of myself I despise.

  In the game, I’m Kaizer, a born leader. In real life, I’m just Anton—a boring, ordinary guy. (No offense to all the Antons out there.) I hate RMT, yet I rely on it to survive. What a hypocrite.

  I hadn’t slept in over three days.

  The last time I ate was two days ago.

  I’d been completely absorbed in planning the final battle—the biggest fight in Favonia Online.

  After Rae’s lecture, I realized I might have seriously messed up my body.

  I stood up from my gaming chair and shuffled toward the kitchen.

  Each step felt heavier.

  And heavier.

  Growl.

  My stomach growled.

  My body trembled.

  As I descended the stairs to grab food, I lost my balance.

  Thud.

  It hurt.

  Somebody...

  He...

  Help me...

  I can’t move.

  Warmth spreads beneath me—sticky and thick. Blood. My blood!!!.

  My vision blurred.

  Memories of my life flickered by.

  The first time I played the game—how they laughed at my in-game name.

  The day my mother was hospitalized, forcing me into RMT just to pay the bills.

  The faint memory of Rae’s scent when we met in real life—warm and fleeting.

  "He... lp..."

  "Moo...m..."

  Darkness.

  Void.

  That’s all I can see.

  It’s cold here. I feel lonely. I’m just... floating.

  Thud.

  Suddenly, my head hurts. I see light—blurry but bright.

  Did Rae or someone else call an ambulance?

  But... why is there blood... on the grass?

  Grass?

  Do I have grass inside my house?

  I turn my head and see the blue sky. It looks brighter than the polluted skies back home.

  Why am I outside?

  I hear shouting.

  A middle-aged man in rugged clothes.

  What’s he saying?

  I can’t tell.

  My consciousness is slipping again.

  Maybe… I should rest.