If trouble ever got big enough to drag the gatekeepers, everyone here would learn real fast why the streets ran red. For now, Dahl's hammer kept slamming the anvil as it owed him money—clang, clang, clang—sparks bursting everywhere. Aiden stepped in front of the counter. "Sir, help me check this equipment." "Get in line! Don't be a pain!" Dahl barked it out without lifting his head. He was buried under orders and ready to explode at the next fool who interrupted him. Then a pause. Wait, that voice... sounds familiar. Something clicked in his skull, and his head snapped up like a mousetrap. There he stood—the one customer Dahl would never risk offending. "A-Ah! Look who showed up! My honored guest! My mistake, truly! I'm so swamped I nearly lost my mind. Didn't recognize you for a second!"He plastered on the kind of smile only seen on shopkeepers begging for five-star reviews. "You're here for an appraisal, yes? I'll handle it right away." The line behind Aiden might as well have been a wall of confused emojis. Nothing about this matched the forge's usual routine. Anyone who cut the line usually got hurled outside—or, for trying, smashed into the floor. The whole scene felt backward. They wondered why Dahl would stare at the waiting players, yet welcome the man who cut in line as if he were a valued guest. Aiden shot him a slight grin. "Funny. I thought you were about to pretend you didn't remember our deal." "Never! Absolutely never!" Dahl grabbed the Medal of Dominion and the Dominion Sigil Shard with exaggerated care. "I promised free service, so free service it is. My word doesn't break." Free service? People in the back almost fainted. Who the hell is this guy? What kind of monster makes a proud NPC drop his attitude like that?We are all bottom-rung wanderers. Why does this one stranger get the royal treatment? Then realization hit someone like a flashbang. In Doomsday, only one player wasn't marked as a wanderer. A player named DinnerBabyTurtle swallowed hard and stepped forward. "Uh... Excuse me... Are you... Nighthale?" Aiden flicked a glance at him and stayed quiet. He neither confirmed nor denied it, and that was sufficient. Silence hit like a bomb, and the crowd practically vibrated with excitement. In the past couple of days, the game had rooted itself so deeply into everyday life that its impact kept expanding by the hour. Nighthale stood at the top of the entire player base—undisputed, unmatched—and his influence had grown into something genuinely frightening. With that kind of fame came an enormous crowd of admirers.A smaller, far more unhinged group operated under the label of "Nighthale's loyal fans," picking fights anywhere they believed his name was misused. Anyone foolish enough to claim they were Nighthale instantly became their target. These zealots would swarm the Internet, tear apart every corner of the impostor's life, and expose anything they could dig up. Governments weren't any more relaxed. They monitored Nighthale's movements with an intensity usually reserved for national threats. Because of all that, no one dared to impersonate him now. The smart ones distanced themselves the moment a misunderstanding arose before the consequences came crashing down. No reply came, though the lack of one spoke volumes. "What?! He's Nighthale?" "No wonder the NPC's acting like a servant. No one else could make him behave like that." "He's the only first-class citizen right now. Has to be him!" The crowd buzzed like a hive kicked open. Not a shred of proof existed, yet the possibility alone sent the players into overdrive. Grumbling about the line disappeared instantly—every player focused on getting a clearer view. Ding! Golden light burst from Dahl's workstation—the Medal of Dominion had upgraded again. 'Medal of Dominion upgraded to Myth-level equipment. Usable only by those who conquered the Inferno-level trial. The medal had undergone two enhancements, pushing its power beyond ordinary Myth equipment.' 'Its attributes granted an additional 100 status points, a five percent boost to all resistances, and three extra points in Charisma.' 'Passive Ability: Courage Surge—When Health falls beneath thirty percent, strength and energy each rise by ten percent.' "What a shame..." Dahl studied the numbers with awe. "Still stuck at Myth." Everyone gaped. Myth gear? That's all the proof anyone needs. Mystery over—the masked figure is Nighthale. "Holy—Myth-level equipment?! My commoner eyes can't handle this!" "No wonder he cleared the Abyss Trial like it was tutorial mode. Gear that strong is downright broken." The blacksmith guild erupted with noise. Even though only the player and Dahl could see the full attributes, just the word "Myth" alone was enough to blow minds. The game had only been out for eleven days. Despite the sheer number of players farming eight hours a day, usable equipment was still scarce. For most, getting just one silver item was enough to make them walk with their chest out. Gold equipment? That wasn't just rare—that meant you were a bona fide boss.