No nation across the global community had taken the game lightly once it started bleeding into reality. Officials rushed emergency regulations through every channel they had access to. Killing players became strictly prohibited. Breaking that rule triggered real-world punishment without mercy. Nighthale treated the entire policy like background noise. He eliminated someone so influential that his name circulated through the news cycle every morning. The entire player base felt a collective jolt. Nobody could wrap their heads around the boldness of it. "He isn't someone to provoke." "That's insane! He's the type who ignores fences and walks wherever he wants." Everyone stared at the tall masked figure, their nerves tightening. His silence made him more intimidating. He looked like someone who would stare down a judge, a general, and a president without blinking. If he had no issue dropping a real-life power figure, no one else out here mattered at all. Aiden lifted his gaze toward the group clustering behind their leader. His tone carried not a single shred of worry. "Anyone here feel lucky?" Swiftwind squeezed his dagger until his knuckles whitened. He already knew the outcome. Getting smashed into paste felt unavoidable. Even if every person behind him rushed forward together, Aiden would flatten them without slowing down. Yet, winning had nothing to do with any of this. The question revolved around whether they stepped forward or crumbled. The others shared the same unspoken truth: some came here voluntarily, others were compelled, and a few had no choice at all. Despite this, everyone chose their side, making retreat impossible. "Forgive us!" Swiftwind pulled air through his teeth, vanished into stealth mode, and shot toward Aiden. A quiet chuckle escaped Aiden. "Respectful. I can appreciate that." His voice lowered. "Gray.""Rragghh!" Gray launched from the beast space like a missile, ripping through the fog. One blast of World-Shaking Dragon's Might seized every enemy within a hundred sixty-foot radius, trapping them instantly. Three whole seconds of paralysis. The group froze mid-motion. Swiftwind materialized like someone dragged out from behind an invisible curtain. Roll call began, whether they wanted it or not. NPC Steve... no. Swiftwind, BaldLogic, JumboBrody... Gray swept through them like a sudden wind ripping across a desert highway. Bones cracked, armor splintered, and bodies burst like fragile props on a movie set. Damage numbers rained down—10,566, 10,532, 10,465—plus an embarrassing number of zeroes after that. Five-digit numbers flashed with every casual strike. Their Health pools barely reached triple digits. Overkill barely described what happened. These players might as well have been paper dolls tossed under a passing truck."What... No way..." "Ten... Ten thousand damage? How?" The onlookers nearly forgot to breathe. The earlier fireball landing, which caused over 3,000 in damage, had already shattered their perspective. Gray's damage completely tossed their expectations into the trash. Within seconds, the street belonged to Aiden alone. Heavy footsteps pounded across the pavement. A city patrol unit stormed in, weapons drawn. "Who triggered a fight in broad daylight? That's gutsy! Are you folks hungry for trouble?" Their captain—Peter Blair, nicknamed Thunderhand—carried a glare sharp enough to cut steel. Chaos on his watch counted as a direct insult, and every muscle in his body looked ready for violence. He mused, Middle of the day, and someone's brawling like it's their backyard. They must think Thunderhand Peter Blair retired. Let's find out who needs a reminder. "Who started this?" he demanded."Me." Aiden turned slowly, his calm unnerving. "Stays cool after a kill like it's nothing. Takes serious guts—wait..." Peter's expression froze. Aiden's identification marker caught his eye. First-class citizen? And that mask... Why does it look familiar? Then, his gaze snapped toward the loot scattered across the ground. No bodies; only dropped a gear. Vagrants, then. Not worth escalating. Peter adjusted his posture immediately. His voice softened into something almost courteous. "Sir, I need a short explanation for our report. Mind telling me what happened?" Aiden's shoulders lifted slightly. "They mouthed off. I handled it." "That demonstrates admirable initiative." Peter nodded with enthusiasm. "Insulting a citizen deserves consequences. You stepped up where others hesitated. I respect that. You have my gratitude. "Although..." His expression sharpened. "Upholding safety within the city falls under our department. Next time, feel free to leave small-time troublemakers to us. No need for you to do the dirty work." Aiden blinked in mild disbelief. "Understood." "Excellent. Enjoy the rest of your day." Peter offered a respectful dip of his head before jogging off with his squad. As soon as they rounded a corner, the deputy leaned in. "Peter, what was that? You changed your tone. You're not usually like that." He wondered, Why is Peter suddenly so respectful? First-class citizens show up all the time, though none have ever made him behave like this. He's never this gentle with anybody. Peter snapped, "I told you before! We're the patrol unit. We survive by paying attention to details. Details!"