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Charles the Greatest
69. I Will Tear Them Apart!

69. I Will Tear Them Apart!

As Carl's closing run concluded, he could finally let out a breath of relief.

What a hectic day it was!

He had never worked this hard in his whole – albeit short – life. Although his body was merely irritated from lying in bed all this time, his mind was weary with toil. Not to mention his battered nervous system, which indirectly affected his physiology. On top of a neurological shock adversely influencing some of the biological mechanisms, studies had shown that prolonged VR conditioning was unhealthy to the psyche of players, too, disturbing its connection to the true reality and leading to mental disorders in critical cases.

Carl, competent on the subject of maintaining harmonious life, was not in any risk group, with his steadfast character and his experience as a professional gamer, but the physical repercussions were still there, so he had to tone it down and resume his sports activities, especially swimming. No more tedious grinding – relaxing adventure awaited! Sure, his definition of 'relaxing' diverged greatly from the common interpretation, but still … it would do him good.

The tales told by Whispering Leaf had him yearning for the open world, where he could spread his wings at last. She described the beautiful landscapes, the lushness and diversity of fauna and flora, the excitement of pioneering the unknown, and the deadly challenges that had everyone trembling. She also mentioned the ubiquitous lore hints, one of which clued her in on a depleted and abandoned manatite mine in the mountains nearby. Such knowledge was a double-edged sword, as it could bring swift death just as well as unexpected fortune. For example, if one went to the mine to search for leftovers, the only payment for such foolish bravado would be death. She was smart enough to understand that, so she didn't even try to embark on this journey. Instead, she opted to pan the sand in a creek downstream from the place where the metallic ore was washed in the past. After days of hopeless, grueling effort, finding nothing but paltry residue, moments before giving up, she was rewarded with stunning treasure – a kind of crystalline nugget that rarely formed in manatite deposits and stably stored a far higher density of mana than normally.

Carl commended her judgment, resourcefulness and perseverance, traits they shared, but he wasn't naive. After all, what could one uber do against an army of amateurs? And those people were anything but. They had countless spies, trackers, scouts, vast networks, proper chain of command – and all the capital they needed. Without stealth, he wouldn't survive there. Independent experts were always targeted by PKers and big guilds, forced to either flee or bend the knee, terms that didn't exist in Carl's glossary. He would fight to the end, and inevitably die. No, he had to stick to dungeons for now. Luckily, he had a promising lead …

On the other hand, the wood elf gatherer herself was blown away by what she saw in the black wolves' den. Even Carl's execution of Jade Lotus's goons wasn't as spectacular, because here the fight was entirely one-sided, and the nightmarish lupines, quarter thousand strong, appeared completely defenseless before him, incapable of putting up resistance. Moreover, her benefactor was so attentive, that he didn't forget about her inadequate gear, lending her a few gold coins and some of the monster repellents from his stockpile.

Oh, once her friend found out about that … she would be so sorry …

Whispering Leaf considered the girl her bestie, but now their relationship soured, courtesy of the materialistic brother. Previously, she was sure that the friendship they forged had nothing to do with their parents' wealth, but maybe … subconsciously it did? And maybe the girl was also unintentionally using her status as a bartering chip?

That was a saddening thought …

They were already plenty astonished when she forked out the 100 Gold Crows that the young man offhandedly demanded for the VR helmet she borrowed, and reluctantly ceded it to her, as if humiliated and offended at the same time.

She didn't have many colleagues to begin with, and if she lost that one … that would be disheartening.

Thankfully, she shook it off and was reinvigorated when she witnessed Carl's lively entourage happily wrap things up before going to bed, as many of them had no choice but to synchronize with him. They were all full of anticipation for the new day, looking forward to what he had planned. She couldn't help but feel with them.

While Carl rested, the world pressed on.

With well over 200 million registered accounts, there was no shortage of outstanding individuals and fortuitous encounters. Every region had its own celebrities, discoveries and drama, so much of it that nobody could stay on top of it all, not even dedicated information brokers. Unchangingly, independent players and guilds butted heads in an age-old clash of approaches, pitting public pressure against private interest. Furthermore, billions of uninvolved spectators watched from the sidelines, captivated and awed, their desires stirred. Most didn't have the means, as second-hand equipment from the earliest generation still compatible with Immortal Frontier, rudimentary systems lacking many of the key features, cost a few thousand dollars. But there was hope – in the advent of full-dive VR, substandard hardware was bound to become much more accessible. And then there were all the capital holders, ceaselessly analyzing the climate and searching for good investments, their money steadily flowing into the platform or directly nourishing the established virtual businesses and associations.

Carl woke up at 9 once again, repeated his routine and avidly jumped back into the game, actually glad about the prospect of going out in the afternoon to stretch his legs and catch a breath of fresh air. He rushed to the arena, where everyone was supposed to meet at 9:30, and was surprised to see Whispering Leaf there as well, but didn't question her presence.

“Good morning, guys! Who's ready to rock and roll?” he greeted with exuberance, dressed in his usual sanguine uniform from yesterday, since he deemed the leather armor to be in sufficiently decent shape to postpone repairs, and he aimed to replace it anyway.

This prompted an enthusiastic cacophony of cheers and laughs, but Amaranthine Bushido stepped forward with uncertainty written all over his face.

“Brother Lionheart, how are we going to finance the operation? You said there would be some funds by now, but as you should know, your account is still empty. Meanwhile, we gave the last of our gold to Liss …”

This revelation cooled the moods instantly, but Carl only grinned.

“That's because you're handling my private account,” he clarified, pulling out a couple signets from his pocket, as he couldn't wear them on his fingers.

“Huh? When did you get a second one?”

“Special delivery to the sanctuary. This one is to an official account, and there's enough in it for a few hours. I'll make a transfer in a moment.”

“An official account?” The swordsman reeled back with incredulity. The others didn't recognize the implications, merely rejoicing in the sudden reversal.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Carl didn't explain anything. He rechecked the balance via a convenient telepathic link, and noticed it increased by a hundred gold or so within those couple minutes, crossing half a thousand. Must have been the auctions in Asia, which was ahead on time. The NPC auction houses in Europe were not yet open.

“Hmm, are they going for 400 gold, with 200 gold of markup, or did they sell two at 300? The latter, I guess. It ought to keep escalating throughout the day, since most parties are probably not aware yet …”

“Alright, get us as many mana potions as you can. We need to take full advantage of the blessing,” he announced.

“M-mhh …”

“So what's the situation?”

“Your wards are slowly gathering in the other lobby, Brother Lionheart,” Vehement Typhoon, one of Bulwark's men who was on duty in this period, briefed. “Toothy didn't want to waste time, so he just slept there. He left with Liss a couple hours ago, but had trouble losing the tail.”

“No worries, they made it eventually,” Fleeting Time interjected with a beaming countenance. “Liss reported with an update, and she has gained an apprenticeship with the master tracker. Toothy should be back soon.”

“Awesome. Once he returns, we'll be conquering Camp Redmont first. It'll be me, Toothy, Mercy, Bulwark, Reckless, and we have a spot left. Who wants to go?” Carl asked merrily, with his hands resting on his hips.

“Um …”

To everyone's bewilderment, the timid Whispering Leaf spoke up.

“No-no! It's not what you think!” She immediately waved the misconception off with a childish gesture. “It's just … I've found something that might interest you, Brother Lionheart …”

“What is it?”

“So … I've been exploring Camp Redmont …” the girl began shyly.

“You haven't slept yet?”

“N-no, I couldn't … I've profited a bit, but then I had to use up all the repellents you gave me … I would have died otherwise … sorry …” she apologized, evidently uncomfortable.

“It's fine. You said–”

“Here!” she interrupted hastily, taking out a small casket from her backpack with a reserved smile. “I've found this in a stash.”

“Huh? Additional loot?” Carl opened the reinforced wooden box and saw miscellaneous valuables of low quality inside – some assorted jewelry, a few raw gemstones, silver cutlery, an old watch, a fancy compass, an intricate folding knife, and a monocular telescope. “Heh, so that's why they were all so desperate! How much is this worth, Bushido?”

“Hmm … one or two Crowns, easily. That's better than a ledger, congrats.”

“Oh … so I'm still at a loss …” Whispering Leaf deflated.

But Carl didn't mind. This was much bigger than the dejected girl or the unimpressed swordsman realized, as it led him to a deep, dark place, and made him remember – who he was and why he came here …

“Let's go to my lobby, I want to verify something,” he declared with a mysterious smirk.

Everybody exchanged puzzled looks, then followed. There were already about 20 NPCs in attendance, eagerly awaiting the well-paid work that the generous immortals had for them, and more continuously arrived.

“This will have to do for now.”

Carl stood up straight and confidently addressed the small assembly.

“Okay, guys, who would like–”

“Master Lionheart!” a female healer shouted with alarm out of the blue.

“… Effie, was it?”

“Master Lionheart, my sister just contacted me – Toothy was ambushed by the eastern gate!”

Carl's blood boiled. How could he have forgotten the ways of the cowards?

Without hesitation, he pulled out and downed a great mana potion, activating both gladiatorial buffs and launching like a dragster, kicking up dust behind him. He passed through the crowd outside like a tornado, frightening them and unnerving the guards, then accelerated to full speed once on the boulevard, shocking the bystanders.

“What in the world?!”

“Who is this madman?!”

“Oi! Halt!”

“How can one run this fast?!”

Since strength and stamina were responsible for sprinting, and agility only for motor coordination, Carl could smash all records even encumbered, against the wind and uphill, so long as he didn't trip up. On the smooth, level road he developed in excess of 50 km/h, overtaking the rolling carriages and causing a sensation. He cut the corner in the center of the city, avoiding the arcades under the elevated teleportation terminal and turning east. Soon, he had to drink another great mana potion, as Geneva stretched latitudinally.

He was furious.

The messages he received were not good.

He made it in no time, but it was still too late. There were throngs of gawkers on the scene, creating a traffic jam, guards in the middle of it, and on the ground laid Theodore … in a pool of scarlet red.

“Whoa! Stop right there, immortal!”

“Hey, that's Lord Lionheart!”

“Can he be revived?” Carl got straight to the point, his voice unnaturally loud and forceful. He knew players were helpless at this stage of the game, but maybe the NPCs had means of resuscitating clinically dead patients.

“I'm sorry, Lord Lionheart …”

“Money isn't an issue, call whomever is required.”

“Lord Lionheart, it's been five minutes … nothing can be done.”

Inflamed with wrath, Carl's resolve condensed into murderous intent. His terrifying eyes flickered with rage.

“I will tear them apart!”