When Prosperous Guild finally reached the dungeon gates, the place was packed.

  Hundreds of players loitered around, setting up campfires, sharpening weapons, checking gear, or just trash-talking each other. Guild banners flapped overhead, and the mist swirling out from the dungeon entrance gave everything an ominous, end-of-the-world vibe.

  A level 50 dungeon with the First Clear still on the line?

  Yeah, no major guild was going to sit that one out.

  But if there was one guild guaranteed to get the stink eye from everyone else, it was Prosperous Guild.

  And it wasn’t even close.

  Prosperous had tried their usual stunt—stationing thousands of their members outside the dungeon days before, claiming it was “theirs” because they “found it.”

  Problem was, everybody knew the truth.

  Starfire Guild had actually discovered the dungeon three days earlier.

  Unlike Prosperous, Starfire had opened the find to the community—letting anyone who wandered by enter it freely, no gatekeeping, no politics.

  Prosperous didn’t care about that.

  They never did.

  They’d bullied their way in anyway, set up blockade lines, and declared the dungeon “Prosperous Property” like they were really medieval lords handing out decrees.

  It hadn’t gone over well.

  Not even a little.

  Now, as Ren’s five-person team rolled up toward the gates, the boos and jeering started immediately.

  “Look who finally showed up!” someone from Crimson Thorns yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Took you long enough to remember how doors work!”

  “Don’t die again in the mist, Prosperous babies!” a rogue from Silver Phoenix shouted, laughing.

  From the camp of Obsidian Serpents, someone muttered just loud enough for it to carry, “Guess bribing half the server didn’t buy them enough skill.”

  Even Stormborne Vanguard, normally the uptight stoic types, weren’t immune to the temptation.

  One of their shield bearers called out with a smirk, “Better set up your tent right here. At your speed, you’ll still be clearing the lobby when we’re looting the boss.”

  Ren shifted in his saddle, tugging his hood down a little farther over his face.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  ‘Fantastic,’ he thought. ‘Public humiliation before we even get wiped. Great start.’

  Lilith, to her credit, just winked at a few hecklers and blew a sarcastic kiss.

  Cassien offered an exaggerated bow so deep it was almost a faceplant.

  Moss didn’t react at all—dead silent, dead still. Probably plotting how to snipe someone later.

  Gareth just grunted like he wanted to break someone’s jaw with his shield.

  Victor walked in front of them like he didn’t hear anything.

  Like Prosperous Guild wasn’t a giant target of public hatred.

  Ren admired the delusion, honestly.

  ‘Survive. Brew. Cheese,’ he reminded himself grimly, patting the Kodo’s scaly side for luck.

  Because once those dungeon doors opened, it wasn’t going to matter who hated who.

  Only one guild was walking out with the First Clear.

  And he had no intention of dying first just so Prosperous could save face.

  Ren slouched lower in his saddle, pretending to check his potion satchels while trying not to make eye contact with anyone ready to throw a punch.

  Internally, he started mentally ranking the odds of who was going to stab Prosperous Guild first.

  Top 5 groups most likely to shank us before we even hit the loading screen, Ren’s List:

  #1. Crimson Thorns —

  Zero impulse control. Already suplexing each other in their own camp. Would absolutely stab for fun. Probably already taking bets on who would throw the first punch.

  #2. Obsidian Serpents —

  Professional backstabbers. If they could kill you in-game, loot your corpse, and convince your guild to thank them for it, they would.

  #3. Starfire Guild —

  Normally peaceful. But after Prosperous tried to steal their dungeon?

  Yeah. Grudges run deep.

  Ren could practically feel the passive-aggressive judgment radiating off them like solar flares.

  #4. Silver Phoenix —

  Wouldn’t stab them right away.

  No, Silver Phoenix would smile, make friends, let you walk into the boss room first, and then stab you when your health hit half.

  #5. Twilight Covenant —

  Technically might not stab them at all.

  Might just quietly curse them, summon a demon, or open a portal to hell under their tent.

  Ren gave the whole situation about a 30% chance they even made it through the front door without someone throwing a fireball.

  ‘Survive. Brew. Cheese,’ he reminded himself again.

  In that order.

  Maybe.

  If things didn’t catch fire too fast.

  As they approached the dungeon entrance, Ren realized he was going to have to park his Kodo.

  There was no way mounts were allowed inside.

  And that meant hoping no one would steal it. In Towerbound their was no way to “store” mounts. That meant always treating them as living beings.

  It was marked prominently as his property—Prosperous Guild tags, ownership tracers, even his personal guild seal—but that didn’t mean much around here.

  Not with thieves lurking everywhere.

  Especially not with how hated Prosperous Guild was.

  There were thieves with plenty of talents, after all.

  And a Kodo loaded down with luxury items, clearly belonging to one of the most hated guilds around?

  That was a very tempting target.

  Ren did his best to make it untempting.

  He scattered a long-lasting and debilitating poison over the saddlebags, the saddle itself, and every tempting bit of gear that was hanging off the Kodo’s sides.

  It was odorless, colorless, and best of all—custom-made.

  Anyone who stole the Kodo would also get poisoned and infected almost immediately.

  And as a top alchemist, it wasn’t going to be some standard poison, either.

  Detoxification potions only worked for basic poisons.

  Ren had spent a lot of his time making sure his brews weren’t basic.

  Anyone unlucky enough to mess with his Kodo was in for a rough time—violent hallucinations, muscle seizures, and probably explosive diarrhea just to round out the experience.

  He gave his Kodo a final pat on its scaly side.

  ‘Good luck, buddy,’ Ren thought, sighing.

  As he turned to jog back toward the others, he muttered under his breath,

  “Hope you like a month of explosive diarrhea, suckers.”