The darkness and the musty scent of the ancient underground temple did nothing to ease the heavy atmosphere of tonight's meeting. The 'reality' all eighteen of them had witnessed that morning weighed on them like a physical burden.
The soft glow of the magic lanterns, freshly installed by Elin and Doran along the stone pillars, illuminated the tense faces of the 18 Undercovers. Talia stood in the center of the circle, arms crossed, letting the silence stretch for a long minute.
"I believe this morning's execution answered any lingering questions you might have had," Talia began, her voice icy and absolute. "The Crimson Order isn't just a guild of meatheads grouping up to hunt monsters. They operate as a fully militarized army. They have flawless coordination, dedicated tanks to absorb damage, supports to counter plays, and a commander smart enough to buy the loyalty of the entire NPC population... Clashing with them head-on right now is suicide."
"That dual-blade player... he was definitely Level 100 just like us. I could tell from his skill aura," Lars grumbled, stroking his thick beard. "But he was slaughtered in five minutes. Five minutes! Damn it, if we hadn't disguised ourselves as beggars on day one, it would be our eighteen corpses impaled in the plaza right now."
"So, what's the play, Boss?" Dane asked, his hand resting on the hilt of his concealed katana. "Do we just sit here and watch them extort this city? Or do we assassinate Commander Warran when his guard is down?"
"Assassinating their leader will throw the city into chaos, and the Crimson Order's main army will turn this place upside down looking for us." Talia shook her head, her gaze sweeping over the guild. "We will put it to a vote. Everyone has a say. Who here thinks we should launch preemptive guerilla attacks right now? Raise your hand."
No one moved. Even the aggressive frontline fighters like Dane and Thom stood perfectly still. They weren't cowards, but the logic and maturity of top-tier gamers taught them a harsh truth: initiating a fight when you aren't prepared is pure stupidity.
"Then who thinks... we should stay hidden in the shadows, wait for them to go to war with The Oracle, and strike only when the city's defenses are at their absolute weakest?"
Whoosh. Eighteen hands shot up into the air in perfect unison. A unanimous vote.
"Good." Talia nodded, a dangerous smirk playing on her lips. "Since we have chosen to wait, our role from this second onward is to become 'parasites'. We will secretly siphon the raw materials, ores, and rations they extort from the citizens to build our own base and armaments. When the war begins, they will find their military vaults completely empty, while we will possess an impenetrable underground fortress."
The plan for the 'Ratway Heist' was officially set in motion.
That very night, the underground construction operation commenced in full force.
The guild members spent their days working their mundane cover jobs, but by night, they slipped beneath the city to build their sanctuary. It was here they discovered a fascinating truth about their new reality: their Level 100 'Endurance' and 'Vitality' stats made their physical bodies virtually immune to mundane exhaustion. Even after going two days without sleep, they could still carry massive boulders with ease.
However, their magic was a different story. It functioned on a 'Spell Slot' system. Once their mental mana slots were depleted, no amount of physical rest would restore them—they specifically required deep sleep or high-tier regeneration skills to reset.
In the center of the temple, Elise pressed her hands against the stone wall, using her Earth magic to carefully mold the rock into an elegant archway and a structurally sound hall.
"Careful there, Elise. The upper rock layer on that side has high moisture. The structure might cave in," Bryn warned, using her real-life instincts as a geologist to inspect the cracks in the wall.
"Copy that, Sis Bryn!" Elise cheerfully adjusted the thickness of the stone pillars accordingly.
The teamwork was flawless. Sera stood nearby, utilizing her logistics expertise to direct the men as they categorized the excavated rubble and sorted materials with maximum efficiency.
"Phew... my body isn't tired, but using my brain nonstop is draining," Thom muttered, slumping onto a wooden crate and clutching his growling stomach. "I'm starving. The thought of eating another rock-hard loaf of bread and 'vegetable-ghost soup' from the tavern makes me want to cry."
"Who said you have to eat that garbage?"
A sweet, familiar voice echoed from the depths of the temple, accompanied by the mouth-watering aroma of seared meat and rich spices. Everyone's eyes widened, and several audible gulps could be heard.
Mila was standing in front of a newly built stone hearth, her sleeves rolled up. She was expertly flipping thick cuts of steak sizzling in an iron pan, a gentle smile on her face. Back in the real world, Mila wasn't just a waitress; she was a professional chef.
"Sera sneaked some fresh beef and spices out of the tavern's kitchen, and Bryn hunted a wild boar for us this evening," Mila explained as she plated the massive steaks. "I know everyone is exhausted from acting all day and building all night, so I decided to make us a proper midnight meal. Black pepper seared steak, ready to serve!"
"Oh, thank the heavens! I love you, Mila!" Dane practically lunged forward to grab a plate.
The moment the tender meat hit his tongue, the samurai's eyes widened. "Incredible! As expected of a pro chef! God, the NPC food in this city is so bland it makes me want to die. This feels like a rebirth!"
"Agreed... this is exactly what I needed," Lars mumbled with a full mouth, giving a thumbs-up. "I'll gladly rot in this basement every night if it means I get to eat this!"
Even the usually stoic Talia couldn't hide a faint smile as she sliced her steak. The suffocating tension of the impending war melted away, replaced by laughter and the warmth of a shared meal.
Sera, chewing happily on a piece of meat, suddenly paused. She slowly licked the savory sauce from her lips and turned to Mila, a strange flicker in her crimson eyes.
"Hey, Mila... next time Bryn catches a boar..." Sera began, her voice tinged with slight hesitation. "Could you make me some... pork blood jelly soup?"
"Eh? Blood soup?" Mila blinked in surprise. "I mean, I can, but...back in the real world, you'd only order this kind of stuff once in a blue moon, wouldn't you?"
"I... I did. I don't know why, honestly," Sera laughed awkwardly, scratching her cheek. "Maybe all that fresh blood in the kitchen lately has me craving that blood broth again."
Sitting nearby, Talia adjusted her glasses, her eyes narrowing slightly as she noticed the small, sharp fangs hiding behind Sera's lips. The influence of her avatar's race... The primal instincts of a True Vampire are slowly beginning to affect her human mind. Talia kept the thought to herself, offering only a subtle, knowing smile before taking another bite of her food.
The relaxing atmosphere, however, was shattered three days later.
The night crowd at the Broken Oak Tavern had changed drastically. The usual rowdy mercenaries were replaced by groups of traveling merchants covered in dirt, their faces pale and eyes wide with terror—like men who had just crawled out of hell.
Sera, in her maid uniform, gently placed a pitcher of ale on a table. She kept her crimson eyes locked on the floor, but her vampiric hearing was dialed to the maximum, picking up every hushed whisper.
"How did you even survive, Garet? I heard your caravan was heading east... towards the fortress city of Asteria?" a merchant asked, his voice trembling.
Garet grabbed his mug and downed half the ale in one gulp, his hands shaking so violently that the liquid spilled down his beard. "I... I never made it to Asteria. We set up camp about ten miles outside the city walls... and in the middle of the night... Gods... I don't even know how to describe what I saw."
The city guards at the next table turned around, completely invested. "What happened? Was there a siege? Did The Oracle's army attack?"
"What army?! There were no warhorns, no sounds of clashing swords!" Garet yelled, tears welling up in his panicked eyes. "I saw... I saw the sky above Asteria tear open, bleeding crimson red! And then... a giant flaming meteor... No, it was larger than a mountain! It fell from the heavens and crashed directly into the center of the city!"
The entire tavern fell dead silent. Sera froze mid-wipe.
"The shockwave vaporized the surrounding forests in an instant. The heatwave sent our heavy wagons flying through the air..." Garet continued, his voice dropping to a hollow whisper. "When dawn broke and the ash settled... Asteria was gone. The hundred-foot stone walls, the castle, the houses... everything. All that remained was a colossal crater filled with ash and boiling lava... An entire city, erased in a single night."
Gasps of pure horror echoed through the room. This wasn't a territorial dispute the NPCs were accustomed to. This was the wrath of gods.
Sera immediately abandoned her table and rushed into the kitchen, finding Elise and Mila. The playful glint in the vampire's eyes was completely gone.
"Did you hear that, Elise?" Sera whispered intensely.
"Yeah... loud and clear." Elise nodded, her face turning pale. "A flaming meteor destroying a city... That's [Meteor Swarm], the Ultimate tier spell of a Destruction Mage. If they wiped a whole city off the map in a blink, it means they aren't trying to conquer territory... They're trying to eradicate everything."
Sera bit her lip. "A war between Level 100s... It's literally a nuclear exchange."
"Those stone walls the black-armored guards are so proud of won't do a damn thing," Elise concluded, her voice chillingly serious. "We need to dig deeper. The underground temple must be reinforced heavily... deep enough to withstand a weapon of mass destruction."
The rumors of Asteria's annihilation changed everything. They weren't hiding from a band of strong mercenaries; they were trapped in a battlefield where entire mountains could be erased with a flick of a wrist. The theft of resources for their nuclear bunker had to be accelerated tenfold.
The morning sun beat down on the West Gate checkpoint of Soltaris.
Thom leaned lazily against his long spear, playing the part of a bored city guard perfectly. Yet, beneath his sluggish demeanor, the elite salesman's sharp eyes were meticulously scanning the incoming travelers. Eventually, his gaze locked onto a pair of newcomers.
They were a tall young man and a petite young woman. Both wore coarse brown tunics and tattered cloaks, looking like ordinary refugees. But to a master reader of people like Thom, they screamed 'fake'.
The man's footsteps were too planted. He walked with his center of gravity perfectly balanced—muscle memory born from years of wearing heavy plate armor. The young woman walked with feather-light steps, constantly maintaining a diagonal blind-spot position behind him, the textbook stance of a high-tier 'Healer'.
The ultimate confirmation came when a sudden gust of wind blew past. The young man quickly grabbed the edge of his cloak to conceal his waist, but he was a fraction of a second too slow. Thom caught a glimpse of a sword hilt etched with glowing golden runes—a high-end weapon impossible for any local blacksmith to forge.
Thom casually stepped closer to inspect a nearby cargo cart, straining his ears to catch their conversation.
"Hide that hilt better, Edric," the woman whispered nervously, her eyes darting around. "If any... 'other players' or those red-armored guards see it, we're done for."
"I know, Elina. I'm trying," Edric whispered back. "Let's just get into the city and find some low-profile mercenary work. We need to avoid drawing the attention of any major guilds until we figure out what the hell happened to this world."
The conversation was simple, but it was all the confirmation Thom needed. He didn't react. He simply tapped his fingers against his spear shaft in a rhythmic sequence. Across the gate, Dane caught the signal, nodded subtly, and began trailing the targets from a safe distance.
The pair navigated through the trade district and pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the Adventurer's Guild.
Behind the reception desk, Talia, wearing her cosmetic glasses, calmly slid a stack of documents into a drawer. She greeted them with a flawless, welcoming customer-service smile.
"Welcome to the Soltaris Adventurer's Guild. How may we assist you?"
"Uh... we are travelers who just arrived in the city. We'd like to register," Edric replied, keeping his posture submissive. "Do you have any menial tasks or low-rank monster subjugation quests outside the city? We'd prefer work that... avoids large crowds."
Talia evaluated them silently through her lenses. Concealing high-tier weapons and asking for low-rank quests to avoid the spotlight. It's a basic hiding strategy, but definitely smarter than the idiot who got himself executed three days ago.
"Registering as a new adventurer requires a basic combat proficiency test," Talia replied politely. "If you wouldn't mind, I will escort you to the training grounds out back to meet our instructors. Right this way."
Talia led them down a narrow corridor toward the dirt arena behind the guild. As they neared the exit, she turned to them with a warm smile. "Please wait here for a moment. I will inform the instructors to prepare the arena."
Talia slipped into the instructors' break tent. Inside, three rugged men were cleaning their weapons. These were the frontline brawlers of the 18 Undercovers.
The first was Bram a towering Monkey Beastman covered in golden-brown fur with a long, swishing tail. Wielding a heavy wooden staff, he looked exactly like a battle-hardened monkey king. The second was Lucian a lean, agile man with predatory eyes, currently twirling a gleaming rapier in his hand with blinding, almost invisible speed. The third was Theo a middle-aged man sitting in deep meditation, exuding the calm, disciplined aura of a martial arts master.
"We have two 'Visitors' waiting outside," Talia whispered flatly. The three men immediately stopped what they were doing and looked up. "They are suppressing their power to pass off as low-rank adventurers. Bram, go test the guy's reaction speed. Pretend you're struggling a bit... Do not blow your cover and show them you're stronger."
Bram flashed a wild, fanged grin and grabbed his wooden cudgel. "Understood, Boss. Acting like I'm having a hard time is my specialty."
Stepping out into the arena, Bram threw a spare wooden sword to Edric. "Come at me, kid! Let's see what you're made of!"
Edric caught the wooden sword. He took a deep breath, suppressing his physical stats to the absolute minimum, and lunged at the Monkey Beastman.
Crack! Thud! Crack!
The wooden weapons clashed loudly. Bram gritted his teeth, pretending to be pushed back half a step with every strike, but in his mind, he was coldly analyzing every movement. The weight behind his swings is trembling because he's desperately trying to brake his own momentum... The distance of his footwork is calculated down to the millimeter... This level of combat instinct doesn't belong to a mid-tier player... He's Level 100, without a doubt.
"A-Alright, that's enough!" Bram yelled, panting heavily and wiping fake sweat from his furry brow. "Your swordplay is heavy and solid! I'll start you off at Rank D. Go grab your tag at the front desk."
Edric secretly sighed in relief, believing he had successfully fooled the NPC instructor. He had no idea he had just been read like an open book.
Midnight. The Underground Temple.
After finishing their nightly construction, the guild gathered around the makeshift map table. Talia summarized the intel gathered by Thom and Bram's combat test.
"Target confirmed. A Knight and a Healer, both Level 100," Talia concluded. "They are trying to lay low and act weak to avoid the chaos, but their physical combat instincts and the weapons they carry gave them away."
"Want us to go quietly dispose of them, Boss?" Dane asked, stroking his katana. "Leaving unknown players roaming around our city could complicate our plans."
"We aren't bloodthirsty murderers, Dane." Talia shook her head slowly, a chilling smile creeping onto her face. "Remember, our primary goal right now is to rapidly siphon resources from the Crimson Order's vaults to build this bunker... And stealing massive loads of materials carries the severe risk of the red-armored guards noticing."
The members around the table exchanged glances, slowly catching on to the Guild Leader's true intentions.
"We aren't going to kill them..." Sera chuckled softly from where she leaned against a pillar, her crimson eyes gleaming with mischief. "We are going to keep them around as our 'Scapegoats'."
"Ah..." Lars stroked his beard, a wide, wicked grin spreading across his face. "So, if the Crimson Order starts to get suspicious about the missing iron and wood, we just quietly plant some 'stolen guild tokens' or 'contraband ore' in their inn room... and point the guards right at them. Having two sketchy Level 100 players in the city makes for the perfect, logical thieves."
"Exactly," Talia nodded. "Let the Knight duo run around hunting slimes and acting innocent for now. They are our ultimate meat shields. Mark them, but only observe them from a distance."
The Guild Leader swept her gaze over the engineering team. "As for us... time is running out. Elise, widen the breach into the warehouse overhead. Pull down all their top-tier ores and rations. Lars, Nina, accelerate the production of the fake materials to replace what we take... Focus entirely on finishing this base. We are going to bleed their military vaults dry!"
The grand, nation-level heist had shifted into high gear, complete with oblivious scapegoats prepped for the slaughter. Operating deep in the shadows, the 18 Undercovers were playing a flawless, incredibly dangerous game of politics and thievery.