In fact, most of Lokan's preparations were already in place.
On the way to Cheongmyeong Lake, he had been quietly editing a counter-video ever since he heard Piri's furious shouts, fully anticipating this exact situation.
"After all," he murmured with a faint grin, "this is a reverse tour."
He wasn't a professional editor, but Lokan had earned a respectable income from YouTube in his previous life and knew his way around simple video editing.
Back then, once his channel grew beyond a certain threshold, he outsourced the work to a professional studio, but until that point, he had always handled the edits himself.
'It's not wise to release it immediately,' he thought.
The impact of a counterattack is greatest when it strikes at the most dramatic moment—when the enemy believes they've already won.
Lokan wanted them to feel as if their strategy was succeeding, only to have the ground ripped from beneath their feet.
"Let's confuse them a little first."
For that reason, Lokan chose silence.
They were the ones who lit this fire; all he had to do was feed it by doing nothing.
Instead, he decided to add a bit of mischief.
For the next half-day, he hunted relentlessly, grinding away the Murderer Count he had accumulated.
If he could show himself as "Lokan, not a Murderer" while the bulletin boards were still ablaze, the MP Guild's carefully planted doubts would begin to crumble.
"Five counts of Murder should be enough," he calculated, flexing his shoulders and warming up.
The bandit's lair ahead was a dangerous hunting ground, filled with level-90 rogues, but Lokan's critical-hit build made it worth the risk.
"Throwing!"
Even for someone of his caliber, facing dozens of level-90 bandits at once was no easy task.
So he relied on a classic RPG tactic: pulling.
With precise throws, he lured one or two enemies away from the group to dispatch them individually.
In The Lord, however, pulling was far from simple.
Each monster had a different recognition range, and a single scream from an attacked foe could summon an entire horde.
Hide too well and the target might wander off-path, ruining the setup entirely.
'Why doesn't a Berserker have a provocation skill?'
If only he had a taunt ability, he could draw them safely without all this careful maneuvering.
Grumbling under his breath, Lokan hooked a lone bandit and braced himself.
"Hand over everything and die!"
"Like hell I will!"
The bandit's weapon—a curved scimitar—whistled through the air in a deadly arc.
Lokan angled his axe, catching the blade on the steel shaft rather than the edge, and forced it aside with overwhelming strength.
[Critical!]
The very first strike shattered the bandit's defense, shearing off his left arm despite the level disparity.
"Ghhraaah!"
Even maimed, the level-90 marauder didn't scream in pain.
Instead, he crouched low, wrestling forward in a desperate charge for Lokan's legs.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Wham!
Lokan's boot connected with the man's skull like a kicked soccer ball.
Bone cracked, the bandit's body flipping backward and exposing his undefended torso.
Without a flicker of hesitation, Lokan swung again, severing the right arm before stepping back and hurling a hatchet.
"Urgh…!"
The weapon buried itself deep in the bandit's chest, pinning him like a specimen on display.
Critical hits, Lokan mused, were worth every ounce of preparation—without them, this fight would have dragged on.
Bandits were notorious for their deadly weapon skills; the game's lore claimed they had plundered countless adventurers, and their tactics lived up to the legend.
After finishing the kill and retrieving his hatchet, Lokan traced the next route in his mind.
"One lap should do it."
There was no need to delve into the lair's deepest chambers.
He could activate Berserk to speed things up, but the risk outweighed the reward.
Even a single missed strike against the bandit boss—or the archers and thieves lurking deeper in—could mean death.
For now, a safe outer circuit was the smarter choice.
'The respawn zones will be swarming with them anyway…'
Resolved, Lokan increased his pace.
Even with only seventy to eighty percent of his peak senses restored, he could now fight without elaborate pulling.
While his hunting rhythm sharpened, chaos erupted on the game's official forums.
Ward: MP is right. It's not like Lokan actually did anything noble.
└ DD: Wow, look at you flip-flop. Yesterday you praised him, today you condemn him. lol
└ Ward: I'm just saying, in the end Lokan probably fought for profit.
└ DD: (Screenshot) Yeah, sure. Keep coping. Lokangat OP lol.
Jeremy: That Blood Chaser video seems fishy. Catching arrows mid-flight—isn't that straight out of a wuxia flick?
Kosomi: This is a game where you can become superhuman with enough levels. Maybe it's possible… but I still reported it as a hack.
ShrimpQuang: Hack or not, look at his attitude. Total psycho.
UnknownSwordsman: Nuclear cheater confirmed. Reporting again.
Some players who had suffered under the Blood Chasers defended Lokan, but the MP Guild's manipulative editing swayed many others.
They flooded the forums with comments, even opening a new café titled "We Demand the Truth from Lokan," calling for justice and rallying other guilds to join their witch hunt.
Piria herself reposted the original accusation:
Piria (MP Guild Leader):
Our MP Guild stands for fair play so everyone can enjoy The Lord.
We cannot yet prove the nuclear hack, but with support from other guilds, we will take the lead in bringing this unmanned player to justice.
The statement, wrapped in the guild's reputation for "manner play," fooled many casual players.
Guild leaders now faced a dilemma: refuse to join the crusade and be branded cowards, or join and risk massive losses against a proven powerhouse.
Some image-hungry guilds cautiously pledged support.
Negative public opinion around Lokan spread like wildfire, threatening to scorch him before Falcon Company—the game's developer—could officially deny the hacking allegations.
But by the next day, the frenzy cooled as if doused by cold water.
"Wait… he's not a Murderer anymore?"
"How did he clear five counts in just half a day?"
"Doesn't that mean some MP members attacked first? Self-defense maybe?"
"This smells like a manipulation video."
When Lokan casually strolled into the city with no red eyes and no Murderer status, confusion rippled through the community.
Veteran PKers knew how long it normally took to clear a single count—it was nearly impossible to erase five overnight.
While public opinion wavered, Lokan wandered the city at a leisurely pace, smiling faintly.
To onlookers, he seemed to be reorganizing his inventory after a long hunt, though in truth there was nothing to sort.
That was when the hecklers arrived.
"Stop the nukes, cheater!"
"Dog manners! Quit the game if you can't play fair!"
"Report him! Eternal ban!"
"If you're tough, duel me right now!"
They shouted from the safety of the crowd, their faces twisted in false bravado.
Lokan didn't even need to look; he knew these provocateurs were MP Guild members or their sycophants.
Keep barking, he thought. The more you yap, the better this will taste.
Then a voice cut through the noise.
"Excuse me, Lokan, sir! I'm Thanos, a reporter from GameInven, the premier gaming webzine. May I have a moment for an interview?"
"Yes," Lokan replied coolly.
Thanos was a well-known in-game journalist—one who had previously aided Lokan indirectly by revealing the location of a hidden dungeon.
Recognizing him, Lokan gave a curt nod.
He had no intention of hiding but also no desire to look as though he'd colluded with the press.
When Thanos suggested a private room, Lokan refused and led him instead to a café terrace where everyone could see them.
"Let's get straight to the point," Thanos began.
"Are you aware of the current situation? There are accusations of using a nuclear program, of automated play, and of indiscriminate PK."
Lokan answered with a sharp counterquestion.
"Have you ever heard of hacks actually appearing in The Lord?"
"There have been reports," Thanos admitted, "including this one."
"Then tell me this," Lokan said, his eyes narrowing with amusement.
"That video you all saw—hasn't it been long enough for the developers to investigate? If I truly used a nuke, wouldn't something have happened by now?"
"You mean to say the company has already concluded there was no hack?"
"To be precise," Lokan replied, "I've never used any hack in my life. I'm no programmer, just a gamer.
If anyone doubts me, they're welcome to report me again—right here, right now."
Thanos's eyebrows rose. "Then why stay silent until today? Why not respond last night?"
"Do I need to answer every piece of nonsense?"
Lokan gave a thin smile, leaning forward.
"When someone tries to harm me, I simply watch to see if they feel a pang of guilt."
His words carried an ominous weight, the kind that made even a seasoned reporter's spine tighten.
"Are you implying the MP Guild might be hiding something?"
"You'll find out tonight," Lokan said with a dangerous glint.
"They claimed the truth would be decided on the bulletin board. I intend to do the same.
I apologize to you reporters, but please wait for the article and video I'll upload at ten o'clock."
"Ten o'clock tonight?" Thanos pressed. "What exactly are you planning to reveal?"
"That," Lokan said, rising to his feet and looking down at the reporter with cold authority,
"is for everyone to see. And let me be perfectly clear—yes, I killed five MP Guild members.
That was only a light warning.
From now on, anyone—MP or otherwise—who schemes against me must be ready to risk everything.
Whether it's their life… or their precious items."
With that chilling declaration, Lokan turned and left, leaving Thanos staring in awe.
Behind them, the forums exploded with speculation about the bombshell post scheduled for 10 p.m.