The moment Lucas logged in, his in-game mailbox buzzed relentlessly. Opening it, he found a message from Silas Hale.
"Buddy, can you do me a favor? I haven't gathered all the materials for you yet, but my team's stuck in a dungeon. Can you lend me the shield first?"
Lucas chuckled. It was rare for Silas Hale—leader of a 30,000-player guild and a future legendary national war commander—to swallow his pride and beg.
"What's the issue?" Lucas replied.
In the dungeon, Silas collapsed for the third time against the first boss. His vice-guild leader, Bram Windfury, groaned: "Boss, we can't keep this up. Without a decent shield, I can't tank this as MT."
Main Tank (MT) was the core role responsible for soaking damage and holding aggro for the party. Silas gritted his teeth: "I know, but Lucas wasn't online to purchase from. How's Damon's team faring?"
"They're already on the second boss," Bram said.
"Damn it," Silas cursed. "So that bastard didn't fight me for the shield this morning because he already progressed that far."
"We can't let Damon's guild clear the first dungeon first," Bram urged. "This achievement will be announced server-wide—it'll be a disaster for our recruitment."
Silas was anxious. Every top guild was racing for this milestone, and good shields were snapped up instantly. His luck had held to even find Lucas. Just as he despaired, Lucas's reply popped up.
"Buddy, you're online!" Silas typed eagerly, then rambled about their dungeon predicament.
"Who knew Forsaken World dungeons were this brutal? A basic Level 3 dungeon, and our 20 best players can't get past the first boss."
Lucas wasn't surprised. The game deliberately slowed progression by limiting gear drops and boosting dungeon difficulty. A Level 3 dungeon required 20 coordinated players—especially a well-geared MT.
"I'll lend you the shield. Send someone to East District Inn No.7—I'll wait there," Lucas said. He trusted Silas wouldn't steal it.
Silas had worried Lucas would refuse, even debating offering collateral. He sensed Lucas cared little for money, so bribes would backfire. This blind trust touched him.
"Thanks, buddy. I owe you one. Name it, and I'll repay it," Silas promised.
That's exactly what Lucas wanted. "Got it."
Bram raced back to the capital using a rare Hearthstone—dropped only by mobs, teleporting him straight to the capital's spawn point. Two minutes later, he reached the inn.
"Lucas!" Bram called out. Lucas nodded in acknowledgment: "Bram Windfury, right?" After confirming, he traded over the Dragonling War Shield. Bram's eyes widened as he checked the stats, then he sprinted back to the dungeon without delay.
Alone, Lucas typed a VR headset serial number into the friend search—0019852476. It pulled up a player named Blackarm Warrior.
"Typical Leo," Lucas smiled. That's what his friend had named his character in his past life.
Elsewhere, Leo fought for mobs in the Level 1 area of Blossom Plains. The grass was packed—four players per square meter, seven swords swinging at every spawn. Leveling felt impossible.
He'd dreamed of dominating Forsaken World, but now he sighed at the leaderboard: Lucas, Level 4, ranked first. "Same name as my boss… weird."
A friend request popped up—from Lucas. Leo froze, then accepted eagerly: "Boss? Is that you at the top of the leaderboard?"
Lucas grinned: "You know it."
Little did Leo know, his boss's invitation would drag them both into a deadly conflict with a ruthless guild.