After finishing everything, Don headed straight toward the center of the village.
There stood a worn-down fountain, its stone edges chipped and weathered by time. Beside it stood a small NPC girl, petite, delicate, and expressionless. She was the teleportation manager. In Realms Online, only players who had reached level ten were eligible to travel between villages. Entering a Main City required level forty and the First Advancement, and even then, only a Secondary Main City. To step into a Primary Main City, one had to wait until level one hundred.
Don didn't linger. He opened the teleportation interface. The American Region was laid out in a way that closely mirrored real-world geography, divided clearly into northern and southern zones. Player spawn locations were determined by the system based on real-world ID data, and his starting point, Yiersa Village, was located roughly around the New York–New Jersey region.
The reason for leaving was simple. He currently had eight pieces of equipment in his inventory, six from the Gon Alliance players and two from his own outdated gear. Selling them, especially in more active coastal areas, would bring in a significant profit. Without hesitation, he selected a village near the southern coastline, paid the fifty silver coin teleportation fee, and a golden light rose beneath his feet.
When he opened his eyes again, a cool breeze brushed across his face. The air carried a faint, salty scent, and the sound of waves echoed softly in the distance. He had arrived at a seaside fishing village.
The scene was lively. Even at this late hour, players were everywhere, some hunting along the shoreline, others fighting small creatures known as Hermit Crabs, their claws snapping helplessly as they were overwhelmed.
Don didn't move immediately. Instead, he stood beside the fountain, opened his inventory, and took out all eight pieces of equipment one by one, placing them on display.
Before he could even speak, a crowd surged forward. Eyes burning, expressions intense, like starving wolves spotting fresh meat. Fortunately, this was a protected zone. No one could snatch items by force.
For a brief moment, Don considered selling for real money. Fast profit. But he stopped himself. When he had purchased the second-generation light-sensing glasses at the Los Angeles Convention Center, his bank account had already been linked, however, real-world transactions weren't open yet. They would only unlock in the second week after launch. For now, only in-game currency.
And to his surprise, the demand was insane. Even the level three and level five White Iron items were being bid at one to two gold coins, some even higher. The two level three weapons reached four gold coins each. Don's eyes narrowed slightly. So that's how it is. He wasn't surprised. In regions like California, wealthy young elites were everywhere. Hiring people to farm gold was easy.
The most valuable item was the longsword, dropped from Daring Vex South, level five, White Iron, usable by both Human Warriors and Dark Elf Warriors. Versatile and in demand.
A young student pushed forward excitedly. "I'll give five gold coins!"
A man beside him scoffed. "Stop shouting. I'll give eight."
Then a voice cut through the crowd, confident, arrogant. "Move. I'll give fifteen gold coins." A wealthy-looking young man stepped forward. "Sell it to me. No one here can go higher." The crowd fell silent. Fifteen gold coins was no small amount. The man smirked proudly. "I've hired two hundred people to farm for me. You think you can compete?"
Then a voice sounded from behind him. Clear, calm, and steady.
"I'll give twenty gold coins. And if you trust me, I can transfer two thousand dollars offline."
Silence. The wealthy young master froze. Slowly, he turned around. One by one, others followed. And then they froze too.
For a moment, no one spoke. No one moved. As if time itself had paused.
Don frowned slightly. What's with this reaction? Did someone summon a boss here?
---
The crowd parted. Three figures walked forward, two women, one man. All striking.
The man walked first. Slightly under 1.8 meters, medium-length hair, gray-blue skin. A Dark Elf. But his face was refined, sharp, almost idol-like. Above his head, his ID was visible: Daoist Jones, level ten, Apprentice Mage.
Beside him walked a girl with a bob cut, snow-white skin, bright and lively eyes. Her ID read Sword Song Ice Condensation, level ten, Apprentice Priest.
And then there was the one in the center.
Don's heartbeat slowed. Then, for a brief moment, it almost stopped.
She was too beautiful. Even dressed in simple metal armor, her presence was overwhelming. Around 1.7 meters tall, perfectly proportioned, balanced, graceful. Her long black hair flowed naturally over her shoulders. Her eyes were bright and clear, like stars, and her lips curved slightly upward, warm, inviting. But her aura told a different story, calm, composed, mature. She was older, at least twenty-six or twenty-seven. The kind of woman who had already seen the world.
Her ID was hidden. Her class, Human Warrior.
The wealthy young master let out a helpless laugh. "The Jones Team again." He shook his head. "She's even more beautiful than Ice Condensation. I'm out." Without another word, he turned and left with his group.
The crowd began to disperse, some unwillingly, some reluctantly. Only a few remained, watching, staring, unable to look away.
And at the center of it all, Don stood still, his gaze fixed on the woman in front of him.
The deal had just changed.