"Ah, it might not be the person you're thinking of."

"What do you mean?"

"A lot happened here in Ark while you were away raiding the dungeon." Saros and Leo's conversation deepened, and they were just about to start openly talking about everything that had happened during that time.

Then, suddenly, one of their party members slammed the table.

It was Justin, the tank.

"Is that really what we should be talking about right now? That's not the real issue here. Huh? What the hell is this nonsense about nobody being allowed to go hunting on the day of the festival?!"

"…There's a rule like that?"

"I don't know! Players either have to participate in the festival or work as guards. It's an official order from Ark, so we can't ignore it either. Damn it!"

Leo frowned and asked,

"Does that even make sense? A whole day where we can't do dungeon runs? Then what are we supposed to do?"

"Hah, it's just a straight-up loss."

"Ah… I even reserved a party slot for an E-rank dungeon that day."

Players had to battle daily against the ever-growing number of dungeons and increasingly powerful monsters.

Taking a day off from hunting was essentially giving up all the experience, level-ups, and item drops they could have earned.

So for the players of Ark, who were heavily focused on leveling up, this new announcement was incomprehensible.

"…This is just telling us to take a loss. Tch. At this point, shouldn't we be rising up against this?"

"Some players already started gathering. They're organizing a meeting of the 'Down with Kyle's group."

"'Down with Kyle'?"

"Short for 'Down with Kyle Player Group.' Just an abbreviation."

"Ah, I see."

As they were talking heatedly, the players suddenly noticed the area around them had gone dark.

Did a lightbulb burn out?

What was that?

They turned their heads—

And realized that a massive man, big as a bear, was blocking the light.

"…Who are you?"

"Nice to meet you. May I join you for a moment?"

"Get lost if you don't want trouble. I'm not in the mood today."

"Apologies. I just want to ask a few things. Okay?"

The man didn't back off at all.

Already irritated and in a foul mood, Justin rose from his seat with an annoyed face.

"Mister, do you not understand plain words? Huh?"

"…It's not hard. Just answer a few questions and I'll be done."

"Didn't you hear me say to get lost? You muscle-brained pig, you wanna die or something—?"

It happened then.

"…That's quite the mouth you've got."

The man's atmosphere changed.

Justin flinched unconsciously, but after scanning the man's appearance, he quickly returned to his overconfident demeanor.

There was no need to be scared.

The guy was wearing just a white t-shirt and jeans.

Not even real gear.

If he was a player, he had to be low-level.

If he wasn't, he was just some gym rat who worked out a bit.

And someone like that couldn't possibly be a match for Justin.

The gap between a player and a civilian was as vast as heaven and earth—and impossible to close.

Justin jabbed a finger into the man's thick chest muscle and said,

"What? You gonna hit me? Got a few extra lives? You think you can mess with me when you don't even know my level?"

He pressed with strength to intimidate him.

As a tank player used to wearing heavy gear, his strength was on a different level.

And for a moment, it seemed to be working.

His finger kept jabbing the man's chest, and the man didn't respond.

Or rather—couldn't respond.

Must've been scared.

"A damn powerless nobody—what are you even doing here. Tch. A useless sack of muscles."

KWAANG!

A loud crash.

Justin's body spun in the air a couple of times before crashing to the side.

Silence fell over the tavern.

Saros, who had been watching like it was mere entertainment, gulped.

…High-level.

A tank player, known for his sturdiness, had been flung away in a single blow.

And the man had done it while wearing everyday clothes, not even armor.

What kind of Strength and Endurance stats would you need for that?

The man casually dusted off his hands and said,

"You talk too freely for someone who doesn't understand aesthetics."

But apparently the others didn't hear that warning.

Except for Saros , who stood frozen, the others rose to their feet in fury.

Leo charged in without a hint of fear.

"Who the hell are you?! You dare lay a hand on Justin?!"

"Get him! Let's kill this bastard!"

Fwoooom—!

One man swung a massive greatsword with deadly intent.

He was clearly aiming to cleave through the man's shoulder.

But—

CRACK!

The sword the man grabbed… shattered effortlessly in his grip.

"Wh-What the—?"

It happened again and again.

When they stabbed with daggers, the blades broke.

When they punched, their fists got crushed.

Though they were the attackers, all the damage was being dealt to them.

A bizarre and terrifying scenario.

The man spoke coldly.

"Is answering a few questions really that hard?"

He grabbed the collar of a nearby guy and flung him aside.

Another one he kicked in the gut and sent flying.

The last got slapped across the face with a brutal smack.

No one dared charge at him again.

Saros quickly blurted out,

"A-A-Ask whatever you want! Anything!"

The man grinned and said,

"So there's a festival happening here?"

"Y-Yes. In three days."

"And Kyle's the one behind it?"

"Y-Yes."

"Then that means Kyle is in Ark right now?"

The man straightened his clothes and dropped into a seat.

The staff, who had brought out grilled chicken breast late, served it to him with trembling hands.

He took a big bite and said,

"I'm Tempah. Came from Suwon."

"I-I'm Saros …"

"Anyway, let's finish that earlier conversation."

"Huh? What conversation?"

"You said Kyle—that rotten bastard—is here. Is that information solid?"

"…It's just a rumor."

The man asked again.

"A rumor, huh… I heard Kyle's a real bastard."

"Pardon?"

"Rips out people's eyes if they annoy him. I hear pulling fingernails is nothing."

"Y-Yeah? I mean, I guess there are rumors like that…"

"Lately, I heard he tried to slaughter District 3 residents during the lockdown."

"That's technically true, but… that was a different Kyle."

Tempah cracked his knuckles one by one with an ominous crunch.

His presence turned murderous.

Saros swallowed nervously.

"Is he strong?"

"…Sorry?"

"That bastard—he stronger than me?"

What was the right answer?

At that moment, there was only one word Saros could utter.

"…I-I don't think so?"

No one knew what kind of consequences that answer would bring.