Silas sat cross-legged on the ground in the middle of the village square. The sun beat down on the stone tiles. He laid out his goods in a neat line so everyone could see them clearly.
Five Black Rat Helmets. One spare Beginner Backpack. The green Health Potion. The blue Mana Potion. A holographic price tag floated above each item, bright and easy to read no matter where people stood.
Players stopped walking. A small crowd started to gather.
"What's that?" a boy asked, pointing.
"Items?" someone else whispered.
More people pushed closer. Soon a tight circle formed around him. They stared at the helmets and potions like they were gold.
[Black Rat Helmets (Common) – 75 copper coins]
[Health Potion (Uncommon) – 2 silver coins]
[Mana Potion (Uncommon) – 1 silver coin]
[Beginner Backpack (Common) – 5 silver coins]
The prices looked high to new players, but Silas knew the truth. He was selling everything at half the normal rate. No one else had drops like these yet. He wanted the items gone fast and the coins in his pocket before anyone could copy him.
A man in a patched robe stepped up and frowned at the tags. "I checked with the alchemist. That health potion should cost three silver, not two."
"Yeah," a woman beside him added. "The mana one goes for four silver in the shop. How did you get these so cheap?"
Murmurs spread through the crowd. Some players looked suspicious. Others just watched, arms crossed, waiting to see what would happen. Most stayed back. They had no money yet and did not want to waste what little they had.
Then a masked man burst from the back of the group. He wore the dark clothes of an Assassin. In one smooth motion he snatched the Health Potion, the Mana Potion, and the spare Backpack.
"See ya, suckers!" he laughed and sprinted toward the east gate, legs pumping fast.
A few people chuckled. "Looks like the shopkeeper just got robbed."
"Bad idea to set up without guards," someone muttered.
Silas did not move at first. He simply stood up, calm as ever. He raised his Horned Staff and aimed it at the running thief. The man was already twenty meters away, dodging between players.
Silas cast without hurry.
Fwish!
A fireball shot forward, trailing smoke. It hit the Assassin square in the back.
Boom!
The man stumbled but kept running. Silas followed with the second skill.
Red Crystal!
A sharp crimson shard formed at the tip of the staff. He flicked his wrist. The shard flew straight and fast, whistling through the air. It struck the thief between the shoulders.
The Assassin cried out. His health bar dropped to zero in an instant. He collapsed face-first onto the dirt path, body twitching once. Then his form glowed bright blue and broke apart into tiny sparkling lights. The lights floated up and vanished.
The stolen items dropped to the ground where he had fallen.
Silas walked over, picked them up, and returned to his spot. He placed everything back in line like nothing had happened.
The square went dead quiet.
"What the fuck?" a player breathed.
No one moved. Eyes stayed fixed on Silas. They had just watched him take down a fast-moving Assassin from across the square with perfect aim. Death in Godfall was not forever, but it hurt. Thirty minutes locked out of the game. Lost progress. Risk of dropping levels or even skills if it happened too often. The thief would feel that pain soon enough.
Silas sat down again without a word.
A slender middle-aged man stepped out of the crowd. He wore a tattered robe with patches on the elbows, but he carried himself like someone used to being in charge. His eyes scanned the items on the ground, then lifted to Silas. A small spark of surprise showed on his face.
"You seem lucky to have dropped so much equipment this early," the man said with a friendly smile. "Is that your talent, young man?"
Silas looked up but kept his face neutral. "Do you want to buy something?"
The man studied him for a second, then chuckled softly. He could tell the boy was not easily tricked. "My name is Richard. I run a group called Syndicate back in the real world."
A few players in the crowd gasped.
"The Syndicate? One of the top fifty groups in the world?"
"What's a guy like him doing in a beginner village?"
Richard just laughed lightly. "You don't choose whether you get picked as a beta tester. It just happens." He turned back to Silas and extended his hand. "Nice to meet you."
Silas shook it. "I'm Silas."
Richard glanced at the goods again. "I'll take three helmets, both potions, and the backpack. They'll come in handy."
He tapped the air a few times, opening his own panel.
[Do you want to pay 10 silver coins and 25 copper coins to player "TheAnomaly"?]
[Yes/No]
Richard tapped Yes without hesitation. The coins transferred instantly. Silas felt the weight of more than a thousand real-world dollars settle in his account.
"I appreciate the business," Silas said.
Richard smiled. "No problem. Keep doing what you're doing. And if you find anything else good, think of me first."
"I'll try," Silas answered.
Ding!
[You have received a friend request from RichDad.]
[Yes/No]
Silas tapped Yes. The notification faded.
Richard gave a small nod and walked away. The crowd parted to let him through.
Less than five minutes later, the last two helmets sold. Players who had watched the thief die did not try any tricks. They paid the listed price, grabbed the helmets, and left quickly. Silas packed up the empty spot on the ground, stood, and brushed dirt from his pants.
He left the square without looking back. Players stepped aside as he passed, whispering the word "shopkeeper" like it was a new title.
Silas did not mind. He walked straight through the east gate and back into the farmlands. The forest waited beyond it, darker and thicker than before. Level-three and level-four monsters lived deeper inside. Stronger and faster ones. The kind that would push him harder.
He gripped his Horned Staff tighter and stepped under the trees. It was time to get stronger.