After the access restriction lifted, Lokan logged back into *The Lord* at 3:50 a.m. The meeting with the MP Guild was still 10 minutes away, but he had something to do first.
"This should be enough."
He stored his primary weapon, the Orc Battle-Axe, and equipped the full 'Skeleton Warrior Series' set—armor, scimitar, and shield. The lack of relevant mastery skills would weaken his combat power, but this gear wasn't for fighting. It was merely a disguise, a facade to present.
There was one more thing. He activated the special ability from his 'Instigator' title: Identity Camouflage.
"Use Identity Camouflage."
[You have used Identity Camouflage.]
[Your name and appearance have been changed randomly. This effect lasts for 1 hour.]
It was a pity he couldn't choose the specific appearance or name, but it was sufficient. Lokan was now a completely different person.
'There's no need to reveal my true identity for a single secret dungeon.'
Without this title, he would have worn a deep hooded robe and been extra cautious. But the title's effect made such measures unnecessary. An hour would be more than enough. Sometimes buyers requested a guided first run to learn the strategy, but the Graveyard Under the Moon wasn't that complex. With no tricky mechanics or regenerating monsters, you simply went in and fought. He doubted they would ask.
A short while later, Lokan, with his completely altered appearance, arrived at the meeting point. A person who appeared to be from the MP Guild was waiting. They exchanged password-like phrases to confirm identities.
"MP."
"Guild."
"Are you alone?"
"Yes. No need to attract unnecessary attention. My guildmates are on standby; I'll call them once the entry is confirmed."
The guild member's gaze held a warning not to try anything foolish. Lokan found it almost pitiable.
"Let's go then."
"The advance payment first."
Lokan decisively extended his hand. The deal was half the payment upfront, the balance after demonstrating the entrance. The guild member agreed but had one condition.
"I'll use one skill. We need some security measures."
"Understood."
The security measure was typically a skill like 'Insight' or 'Location Track'.
"Insight."
The guild member's eyes glowed blue as he scanned Lokan.
"The advance payment is here, Krypton."
Lokan nearly laughed at the guild member's tone, which implied he had uncovered something significant. 'Krypton' was just the randomly generated disguised name.
"Let's go."
Controlling his expression, Lokan led the way to the cemetery.
* * *
The cemetery, usually sparse, was utterly deserted at 4 a.m. Any dedicated gamers awake at this hour were busy in hunting grounds, not this place. Unobserved, Lokan quickly found the Gravekeeper's Prosthetic Leg and the hidden entrance.
"Insert this here, and the dungeon will appear. Go ahead."
"Ah, so that's the mechanism."
The guild member nodded, took the prosthetic leg, and inserted it into the groove. A faint vibration occurred as the secret dungeon entrance materialized.
"Please remember the confidentiality agreement. The balance..."
"Here it is. We'll contact you if there are any issues."
"Good."
Fortunately, upon confirming the dungeon entrance, there was no attempt to renege. The balance was paid securely. As Lokan checked the amount, other MP Guild members arrived—presumably the party waiting to tackle the dungeon.
'Thorough.'
[Owned Amount: 51 Gold, 98 Silver, 20 Copper]
The secret dungeon had sold for 50 Gold. There was no way an individual could amass that sum at this stage; it must have been pooled by the guild or earned through significant collective effort. How they got it didn't matter to Lokan; what mattered was what he could do with the money now.
Returning to the city, Lokan immediately began the journey to Trinsic.
* * *
"Finally! Off to Trinsic."
There was no hesitation; his preparations were complete. He stocked up on food and health potions and swapped his Orc Fighter's steel boots for shoes that offered less defense but increased movement speed by 10%.
Novice players might attempt the journey unprepared, but in *The Lord*, that was ill-advised. As hunger and thirst increased, movement speed slowed, stats decreased, and eventually, health would tick down. Setting out on a long road without supplies risked starving to death on the path.
Thus, Lokan's inventory was stocked with food and drink.
"Still, how far is this?"
The walk took about half a day. Finally, he reached a point where Trinsic was visible in the distance. But it was no time to let his guard down. Even here, a careless death would mean respawning back in Cton. Furthermore, even on the main inter-city route, monsters from the nearby fields could occasionally wander onto the road. Caution was essential until the very end.
Of course, any monster encountering Lokan would be the unlucky one.
"Huh?"
A faint rustle came from the forest ahead. It was subtle, different from the movements of animals or monsters—the telltale sign of someone trying to move stealthily.
'Well, well.'
*Fizzle!*
Simultaneously, three beams of light descended from the sky. Others might think it was lightning in the clear sky, but Lokan knew the cause: teleportation using a Rune Book. Someone had teleported here.
"Oh, this is a good spot."
"That's not a Savage drop item..."
"If we get to the Savage Village, the levels will be good."
"Who knows? Maybe someone bought it."
Lokan's expression hardened as he focused on the group of men approaching, chatting and laughing amongst themselves. Their names glowed red. They were PKers (Player Killers) who had already killed other users.
'Right, I forgot about this.'
Lokan remembered. There were people like this in his past life. They appeared when travelers were almost at their destination, offering despair and then laughing about it. PK was a despicable act, but without the strength to fight back, victims could only grit their teeth and endure.
As Lokan felt a familiar, cold sensation—remembering the PKers he had crushed in his past life—one of them stepped forward and initiated the standard script.
"Hey, bro, we need to have a little talk."
They seemed to mistake Lokan's stillness for fear.
"Talking is fine," Lokan replied, then grinned.
"Did this guy lose his mind?"
"He's smiling... Does he not know who we are?"
The atmosphere turned tense in an instant. By now, anyone but a fool would understand their intentions. Or maybe he was both.
The one who stepped forward pressed on, sticking to the script. "I'll give you one last chance. Take off one piece of your equipped gear, hand it over, and we'll let you go. Not a bad deal, right? If you die pointlessly, you'll have to walk all the way back from Cton. Be smart, don't be stubborn."
'Who do these bastards think they're fooling...'
The demand to "take off one piece of gear" was a classic trick. When killed by a PK, there was a chance—higher than dying to monsters—to drop one equipped item. The actual rate was around 10-20%. The promise to let him go after handing over an item was a lie; they were just trying to mark him as an easy target or a fool before killing him anyway.
"An item? Yeah, I have a good one."
Lokan let out a burst of laughter, whether from the joy of the impending fight or the sheer absurdity. He reached into his inventory and pulled out an item.
"Eat this!"
"Crazy!"
*Whish!*
What he pulled out was his secondary weapon: a hatchet. The talkative PKer in front was a Knight, evident from the kite shield covering his body. He managed to block the hatchet but was stunned by the sheer force behind the throw.
"Ugh!"
*Thud!*
Even though blocked by the shield, the impact was so powerful it sent the Knight stumbling backward. This was just a thrown secondary weapon.
"Blessing!"
"You bastard!"
Whether they misunderstood the situation or not, the other PKers simultaneously targeted Lokan. From their perspective, they were aiding a comrade. To Lokan, it was like watching children play.
'If you don't properly assess your opponent... you must be ready to die.'
A dangerous glint flashed in Lokan's eyes as he drew his primary weapon from his inventory.
*Shing!*
"... ...!"
"Hey!"
*Thwack!*
The Orc Battle-Axe, appearing mid-air, came down in a clean arc, cleaving through the first PKer from the skull downward. A clean kill, no resistance felt.
"What the hell? That's impossible!"
He had expected a block or a struggle, but it was over instantly. The PKer's skills were poor, and his vitality was even worse. He seemed to have invested only in Strength and Agility, relying solely on clumsy swordsmanship.
"Just die, bastard!"
*Whizz!*
An Archer at the back fired an arrow. He seemed to be aiming for a headshot, but his aim was off.
"What are you doing?!"
It seemed he had chosen the Archer class relying only on stat corrections. If he couldn't hit a target at this distance, he'd never progress beyond basic hunting. Now, all that remained was punishment.
Lokan quickly retrieved his remaining hatchets from his inventory and threw them.
"Ugh!"
The Archer, with his higher Agility, managed to dodge, but that was his limit. He didn't create distance or try to keep Lokan in check. Meanwhile, Lokan was already sprinting over the corpse of the first PKer.
"Hah, Multi-Shot... ...!"
"Heh heh heh heh!"
The Archer, panicked by the beast-like Lokan charging him, raised his bow again, but it was too late. Lokan's War Cry seized control of his body, making his feet feel heavy as if stuck in a swamp.
"Strike!"
Lokan's slash was barely blocked by the Archer using his bow. The force pushed him back, his knees buckling. He was on the verge of being cut down.
"Cha-ha!"
Perhaps not entirely incompetent, the Archer didn't drop his bow. Instead, he slashed at Lokan's waist with a spare short sword.
"Kid, you've got some nerve."
But it was futile. Lokan deflected the short sword with the hilt of his axe.
*Clang!*
The short sword clattered to the ground. The Archer's face paled.
"Shield Attack!"
A cry of salvation came. The Knight, who had recovered from the hatchet blow, charged forward with his shield, using 'Dash' to close the distance quickly.
*Thud!*
"... ... !"
But the Knight couldn't reach Lokan. Lokan caught the shield charge with the haft of his axe, held effortlessly in one hand, stopping the Knight dead in his tracks.
"Monster... ..."
"Time to break."
*Crunch!*
The Orc Battle-Axe came down heavily on the shield, slamming the Knight to the ground.
"Dash."
Lokan's body shot in the opposite direction. He kicked the head of the Archer who was trying to sneak away, sending him sprawling.
*Soccer Kick!*
Having effortlessly neutralized him, Lokan turned back to the remaining PKers. A sinister smile spread across his face.
He opened his mouth, feigning a heartbroken tone, and echoed their own words back at them:
"Give me one last chance. If you take off one of the gear you're wearing, I'll just let it go. How about a good deal?"