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Salty Homecoming

─┈━═[World Announcement!]═━┈─

Player Hashwalker has become the first player to travel to a new city.

City: Ramo

Country: Markov

Planet: Ryker

Their achievement has made history and will get recorded in the Myriad Record for all eternity.

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"What?" Grey asked in annoyance, sitting in his seat in the skycruiser, "What is a player doing there already? They better not advertise the Twisted District or I'll flip."

Once the skycruiser took flight, Mark turned to the teen with a rapidly beating heart.

"What the fuck was that!?" Mark cried, sweat pouring from his bald head, "What the hell did you just get us into!? You showed up with blood all over you, and the elite guards looked ready to murder you!"

Grey scoffed, rolling his eyes as he tossed the mercenary a medal. "This is the Ridgemont Heights medallion. I'm a welcome guest; therefore, you're welcome by association.

Now pull out your credit chips; I have your rewards as promised."

The mercenaries looked at each other stunned but complied.

Mark handed his credit chip, which looked like a poker chip, to Grey.

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┌─┈━═[Mark Samson's Credit Chip]═━┈─┐

Transfer Funds

[Hack]

[Corrupt]

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Grey grinned when he saw the grayed-out options below transferring. However, he transferred funds with his thoughts and handed them back to the man.

The mercenary's eyes went blank for a moment before accepting as if nothing was weird about not using the tap-to-transfer system.

Then he checked his account, and his face filled with panic.

"W-Wait!" Mark cried in disbelief, "Did you mean to transfer…."

"50,000 zecta?" Grey smiled, "If so, yes. I told you that you'd get well rewarded."

All the mercenaries were stunned beyond belief. They could buy a skycruiser for 50,000 zecta!

"I…." The bald man swallowed nervously, "Don't know how to accept this yet also find it impossible to decline. Why have you done this? Surely you have something you want."

"Waiting for me earned me great wealth and saved me considerable trouble." Grey replied seriously, "This is your share of the prosperity your loyalty wrought.

Now please pull out your chips and navigate to Markov Military Base. I need a new set of clothing and gear before going to the Twisted District tomorrow. Naturally, I'll require protection then, too."

Mark's gratitude turned to fear. "S-Sir… Someone your age will get kidnapped before explaining their intentions in the Twisted District—especially if they're wealthy or well connected."

"That's what the term [require protection] stems from." Grey scoffed mockingly, "But first, we'll need to get you better gear and weapons."

The mercenaries stared at him in disbelief. Everyone abruptly understood that the teen paid them well for a reason—to build loyalty so they wouldn't sell him to slave traders.

It was a brilliant move to an insane plan.

***

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┌─┈━═[Live Stream]═━┈─┐

Welcome to Live Stream, Greed!

Record

Please Choose Your Stream Title

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Name: Reaction! Greed's Salty Homecoming

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Description: Greed is a winner who became a multi-millionaire five hours after launch. Watch throngs of salty people accuse him of cheating and try killing him out of jealousy.

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Would you like to start the stream? [Yes/No]

Live stream initiated.

3…

2…

1…

You are live!

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Grey watched the stream countdown in amusement, overseeing the blood clot of players congealed around the sky cab rental office. Each was waiting impatiently for skycruisers.

"Hey! It's him!" Someone yelled.

"Who?"

"Greed!"

"No fucking way! Let's teach that mother fucker—"

**BOOOOM!**

An abnormally loud bang shot off in the area alongside a massive flash of light, and the sound of dozens of dropping bodies immediately followed.

It was a flash bang, which destabilized all the players trying to gain their center of balance, hearing, and vision. Naturally, the teen wasn't affected, as he wore a sound and lightproof helmet in anticipation of the attack.

Three dozen troops fired warning shots around the mob, and snipers took aim.

"Wow, the rental service provides better protection than I thought." Grey grinned.

"No, this isn't normal." Mark replied, shaking his head, "Whatever you did triggered a wave of clients, selling out our service for a week in advance with non-refundable deposits.

You made this business a lot of money, so we're repaying the favor in kind."

"Excellent." The teen smiled in satisfaction, "I'm glad our relationship is mutually beneficial.

We'll need help getting to the base's armory if extra guards are available. I'll pay, of course."

"We'll make it happen…." The mercenary swallowed nervously, casually walking past the disoriented players, facing the barrels of guns with fearful faces, "Will it be this bad?"

"Oh, Mark." Grey chuckled, "I'll be worse. So much worse."

***

The teen walked into the gates of Markov Military Base blood-soaked and victorious, wearing an unbelievably smug smile, proudly showing off his Level 0 marker, proof he didn't do training.

A thousand players in the area fell silent when they saw him.

It wasn't that they were star-struck. No, it was because he walked in, surrounded by a small platoon of twenty armed guards, rifles drawn. He was a walking porcupine of death!

"H-Hello, gentlemen!" A timid man said, walking up to the group, "My name is Lieutenant Major Mann, and I am in charge of the new people here. Can you please inform me of your… business?"

The man's eyes widened in disbelief when he saw Grey, who had left at noon with 250 zecta and returned at sunset with an armed platoon. No, forget that!

"W-Wait, you're Greed, correct?" Lieutenant Major Mann asked, shaking like a leaf, "Did you… end up going to Ridgemont Heights?"

"I did." Grey smiled casually.

"It was him!"

"That's Greed!"

"What?"

The players went wild after hearing his name was Greed, thus removing the [???] above the teen's head.

"T-Thank goodness you're alive!" Lieutenant Major Mann gulped, "However, we… can no longer allow you into the base. Commoners going to Ridgemont Heights is against the law… in a way."

"Oh, I don't think that's a problem." Grey smiled in amusement, reaching into his pocket and tossing the medallion to the man.

"That's right! It's illegal!"

"He broke the rules, even in the game!"

"Figures! I didn't expect anything less."

All the players went wild again, snickering that the teen got kicked out of the base as the man examined the medal with wide eyes.

"Soldiers, Transmigrator Greed is a Class-3 individual at this base now!" Lenny yelled at the top of his lungs, triggering whistles and laughter.

"You hear that, you fucking cheater!? You're not welcome here! So be a good boy and go outside so me and my friends can rip your heart—"

THUD!

"Gahhhhhhh!" A player in his mid-twenties with a handsome face yelled in pain, feeling asphalt grinding into his face, "What is this!? Let go of—"

The man fell silent with the rest of the players when he realized that the base's soldiers had tackled him and were pointing rifles at his head.

"Transmigrator Greed is under Markov Military Base's protection, transmigrator!" The soldier pointing his rifle at the player, yelled, "Anyone who attacks him on or off the base will face martial law, expulsion, or death!"

Every player fell silent in disbelief, processing the words they heard.

"P-Please forgive me, Greed." Lieutenant Major Mann said, groveling with his eyes, "If you know the elites, I'm sure you understand our general position."

"Of course, Lieutenant Major." Grey smiled, "I take no offense. Can you please escort me somewhere to buy clothing and then the internal armory?"

The soldier gulped, torn about taking him to the internal armory. "I can take you there; they'll appraise whether you can purchase items… is that okay?"

"Of course." The teen replied, "Please lead the way."

***

"The restrictions they put on their weapons and equipment nearly defeat the purpose of owning them." Grey grumbled aloud, walking through the halls of a Markov Military Base inn.

Mark looked down at his special forces plasma rifle with wide eyes. It had heavy black metal with glossy heat vents that glowed red when heated. Everything about it screamed power and death.

However, the salty teen throwing a fit claimed that the restrictions on gifting or selling the high-level equipment defeated its purpose!

"I see…." The mercenary replied awkwardly, "Well, it'll do well enough where we're going. I'm glad you got that gear."

Grey wore a black suit that could survive a standard laser shot, bullet, or shrapnel. However, a direct shot would still break his ribs at his strength, and the suit wouldn't hold out for multiple hits.

"I hope so." He replied, opening the door to his room, "Being this weak is a pain in the ass. Anyway, I'll see you here tomorrow at noon."

Before the mercenaries could object, the teen closed the door and laid on the bed.

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Are you sure you would like to log out? [Yes/No]

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Grey chose eyes with his thoughts and read the logout statement. After taking off his headset, he picked up his encrypted smart device and sent a message.

Tommy Crow: The don is pleased by your progress. He didn't expect you to make money today, let alone the amount you made. Good work.

You: It was my pleasure. I'll check in tomorrow.

The teen looked at the screen, conflicted for a moment, before putting his phone down and crashing on the luxurious bed.

"I wish I could sleep." Grey groaned, "But it's time to read up on the Twisted District and memorize the quest details until they're natural."

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