The Event Offer
Grey observed the skycruisers raining destruction on the enemy soldiers with an intense, flickering gaze. He took a deep breath, a contented smile appearing on his face. "Now this is more like it. Lazy weaponry, exploitable legal loopholes, and flushable toilets—this beats a traditional fantasy world any day."
━═[Markov Military Base, Markov, Ryker]═━
Grey stood within a military-style compound comprised of residential buildings, shops, hangars, and a training area. A monotonous landscape marked by steel, concrete, and dull gray paint, blending seamlessly into the urban surroundings
Fifty-foot-high iron walls enclosed countless soldiers dressed in gray camouflage, armed with standard assault rifles loaded with good ol' fashioned bullets. They also operated trucks, and a unique plane-helicopter hybrid called a skycruiser for combat.
At first glance, the game seemed like a replica of Earth. However, this impression was deceiving.
The Cyclo Galaxy had wormholes connecting 2,331 habitable planets. Due to the vast diversity and presence of magic, it housed every type of fantasy race [and] technology imaginable.
It was Murphy's Law: if it can happen, it will happen. That meant cute fantasy women with kitty ears and disfigured octopus women. Naturally, a race's strength and cuteness directly correlated with both their social status and intergalactic porn industry earning potential.
Some things are the same no matter where you go.
Myriad Online placed players in eight war-ravaged countries on Ryker—the planet most similar to Earth in terms of races, technology, and legal systems—to facilitate quicker acclimation.
And Grey was indeed acclimating swiftly. "Since I know the storyline, does that make me a war prophet?" he mused deviously. "No, prophet of war. That's a few letters closer to the truth."
Following the game guide, he swiped his finger through the air four times, summoning a menu.
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┌─┈━═[User Menu]═━┈─
├○
├═[User: Greed]
├○
├═[Legacy: None]
├○
├═[Title: None]
├○
├═[Entity Type: Untranscended]
├○
├═[Class: None]
├○
├═[Stats]
├○
├═[Skills]
├○
├═[Items]
├○
├═[Items]
├○
├═──═[Weapons]
├○
├═──═[Clothing]
├○
…
├═──═[Accessories]
├○
├═────═[??? (Necklace) [Locked]
├○
├═────═[??? (Spatial Ring) [Lv136 Required]
├○
├═──═[Miscellaneous]
├○
├═[Finances]
├○
├═────═[100 (zecta)]
├○
├═[Info]
├○
├═[Social]
├○
└═─┈─═─┈─═─┈─═─┈─═
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Grey's eyes widened when he saw the spatial ring, "Wait!" He immediately searched for another item: the Dead Man's Luck Potion. "It's not here... does that mean they gave me this ring?"
The teen tried summoning the ring but couldn't even summon it. "Level 136!?" he growled. "Selling that potion was my ticket to level 136, not my reward. I need those funds; these chintzy bastards didn't even give me enough to call a cab."
After rolling his eyes, he walked over to a pane-glass window on a residential building and checked his appearance. When he saw himself, his mood improved immediately. While people held the same general appearance and physique in the real world, his appearance was completely different!
His hair was brown and half curly, and his eyes were golden haze to the point they were nearly gold. His oval face was chiseled, and he had a pearly smile. While his body had the same muscle density, his shoulders were broad and symmetrical.
"The Lycans can't tell it's me," Grey laughed in amazement. "I'm free here! Oh, the fun I'm about to have. That starts with getting to the training grounds and hustling cab money."
The training grounds were a simple track and field on rough ground. Due to the expected influx of 125,000 transmigrators over the next three hours, three hundred soldiers were present to train them.
"Hey kid, are you a Transmigrator?" a large man with a neatly trimmed beard asked. His fresh buzz cut brought out the folds of skin on his neck.
"I am," Grey smirked. "Are you a trainer?"
"I am," he frowned, not liking the teen's smirk. "The name's Lieutenant Reece. Would you like to do some basic training here?"
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═─┈─═─┈─═
NPC Payton Reece (1st Lieutenant) has offered to train you.
Would you like to take the combat tutorial now? [Yes/No]
═─┈─═─┈─═
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"Are you serious?" Grey snorted. "I'm a [chosen one]. Do you think I'd learn from a lowly soldier like you? I'm new here, but I'm already better than you."
Peyton's expression fell, processing the teen's words. The more he thought about them, the angrier he became. "Hah! You think [you're] better than me?"
"Of course," the teen sneered, "If we fought, you'd just be a training dummy for me to practice on. Tell me, Peyton—do you want to be my training dummy to test my moves?"
═─┈─═─┈─═
You have requested a Combo Trainer session with NPC Payton Reece (1st Lieutenant). Your request is under consideration. Please wait….
Note: If NPC Payton Reece accepts, your first-day six-hour Combo Trainer window timer will begin. After the timer ends, the feature will no longer be available.
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"What?" Peyton scoffed in disbelief. "No, I won't even entertain that. I don't want to go to prison for killing a Transmigrator," he grunted, turning to other soldiers. "Hey, Gram, Matt, are you listening to this kid?"
"Yeah, I heard him," Gram, a black-haired man, laughed. "I think it's hilarious. He's not even in shape."
Matt, a bulky bald man, snickered mockingly, not taking the teen seriously.
═─┈─═─┈─═
NPC Payton Reece (1st Lieutenant) turned down your request for a Combo Trainer. Your request is under consideration. Please wait….
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"Do you know what Xira used to call what you just did?" Grey asked, using the name of the Rykerian God of War, which he learned from reading a questline.
"What?" Payton sneered.
"A bitch ass excuse," the teen replied brazenly.
The three fell silent momentarily before Matt, and Gram burst into laughter, urging their fellow soldier to call the bluff.
"How about this?" Grey suggested. "Get some witnesses together, and I'll announce a special training opportunity to everyone. Pull out a video recorder, whatever.
After we collect the insurance, we'll take turns hitting each other in the face with bare fists and no magic to practice our jabs, hooks, and the like. The first person to give up or get knocked unconscious loses.
To spice things up, we'll even bet on it. All your friends can bet money on the winner—it'll only be open to the soldiers, and no transmigrators can see or participate in the event.
I'll bet 100 zecta that I'll win. What about you? Are you confident enough to put money that you can win against a chosen one?"
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═─┈─═─┈─═
You have made NPC Payton Reece [Level 22 (Primed)] (1st Lieutenant) an event offer.
Offer: Bet that Greed can win a match against NPC Payton Reece using Combo Trainer. The competitors will hit each other in the face with bare fists and no magic until one is unconscious or surrenders.
The competitors will set up a betting circle exclusively for soldiers. Transmigrators will not be permitted to observe or participate in the event.
Cost: 100 zecta.
Reward: Contingent upon the better.
Your request is under consideration. Please wait….
═─┈─═─┈─═
-
Grey struggled to contain his sinister chuckle as he gazed at the proposal on the screen. The [event proposal] function was typically reserved for official PvP matches but was also applicable to official training grounds.
He was aware of its flexibility, permitting bets in the form of items and currency. However, he questioned whether it would accommodate a wager involving the exclusive day-one Combo Trainer feature.
Luckily, since he was making an event offer, a failed contract offer voided the arrangement. Therefore, he was safe from accidental death when he used the feature! What a boon!
Lieutenant Reece had the opposite reaction, filled with a foreboding sensation. The teen's wild confidence instilled uncertainty in him.
"Bro, you gotta do it!" Gram laughed in amazement. "Shit, I'll do it if you don't! Hey Bobby, come here! An unprimed transmigrator claims to be a [chosen one] and wants to wager that he can best us in combat!"
***
Three minutes later, a circle of twelve individuals wielding smart devices had formed. Although the lieutenant had not consented, he couldn't back out without appearing pathetic.
Peyton scrutinized Grey as he riled random soldiers with taunts, drawing them to the event. He couldn't imagine how, but he felt the teen was sharking him.