Sora was about to start speaking when a notification interrupted him.

[Your viewer, Eclipse, has requested to record the content of your live for 5 Soul Pearls.]

Before he could react, additional prompts appeared on his interface.

[You can unlock the replay system for 100,000 Soul Pearls to automatically grant viewers access to your VOD.]

[Viewers recording your lives or watching your VOD will need to pay 5 Soul Pearls.]

Sora's eyes flickered over the message, and he made his decision without hesitation. He selected the option.

The notification faded from his screen, and he immediately refocused on the stream.

"Alright," he said, his tone calm but firm. "For those just tuning in, I've activated the replay system. If you miss anything, you can always watch it later."

The chat exploded with reactions.

Sora smirked as he minimized the chat.

"I could start this stream with some storytelling," he mused, glancing at the camera. "Introduce myself. Give you all a bit of background."

He let the words hang for a second before shrugging.

"But let's be honest—none of you know me. And most of you probably don't care."

A flood of laughing emojis popped up in response.

"So instead of telling you… I'll just show you."

With a few quick motions, he navigated his interface and selected an option.

Immediately, new settings appeared. Sora swiped through them, carefully selecting and cropping key moments from different locations, adding them to a queue of views he planned to broadcast.

One by one, the clips lined up.

The perspective of the stream changed.

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Emily frowned the moment she heard Sora's advertisement.

She had been in a terrible mood for over a month. Every little thing that didn't go her way irritated her to no end, and this was no exception.

Turning toward Kim, who was sitting on a nearby sofa reading something, she scoffed, "What is this brat even saying? 'Bring vengeance to those who lost loved ones?' Who does he think he is?"

Kim lowered the tablet in his hands and responded calmly, "You know there's a lock in place here. One Alius personally set up. It shouldn't be possible for anyone's mana to bypass it… unless they're stronger than Alius."

Emily, who had been lounging carelessly, immediately sat up straight upon hearing that. Without another word, she opened her interface and messaged Alius.

Her fingers moved swiftly as she navigated to the streaming platform and searched for two words: Sora Hashino.

One stream appeared at the top of the list.

Emily scoffed. "'Humanity Strikes Back?' What a joke… How can we 'strike back' when we're trapped behind walls? How are we supposed to win now that our best chances to turn things around are dead? Even that Salim kid is gone..."

Kim Dong shook his head, understanding the bitterness behind her words. He knew that Emily was still mourning Ralph, Kara, and Salim. Spending time together inside and outside the Tower had brought all of them closer. Even he found it hard to believe that their seemingly unstoppable group had been wiped out.

Just as they were about to start watching the stream, a knock echoed at the door.

Kim Dong waved his hand, and the door opened on its own.

A small tiger, barely larger than a housecat, walked inside. Floating just behind it was a tiny fairy, arms crossed, looking furious.

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Behind them, a player stepped into the room.

Emily's eyes flickered toward him. "Welcome, Alius. Did you find out who managed to bypass your restrictions?"

A smirk played at the corners of her lips. "Alius! Thanks for coming so quickly. We were just about to watch the fraud who managed to advertise his stream inside guild territory."

She expected a frown, a sigh, maybe even an eye roll. Alius rarely entertained her jokes, after all.

Instead, to her complete surprise, he smiled.

Emily blinked.

"What?" she asked, frowning. "Do I have something on my face?"

Alius shook his head. "Your face is fine." He paused, then added with an amused glint in his eyes, "But… never mind. Just watch the stream."

Something in his tone unsettled her.

Emily turned her attention back to the screen—then froze, mouth falling open.

Her voice barely came out as she whispered in shock, "It's you?!"

Kim, sitting nearby, looked equally stunned.

Alius, however, merely shook his head. "Not exactly. But not far off either."

His gaze stayed locked on the screen. "Sora Hashino… he's like a long-lost brother."

Then, without taking his eyes away, he added, "Now focus. I don't want to miss anything."

Just as he finished speaking, Sora's voice rang out from the stream—

"—I'll just show you."

The perspective changed.

Instead of the streamer, the stream now showed another point of view.

A figure floated in an empty void, facing four players with strange names.

--------------------------------------------------

One Hundred-One floated in a void. Beside him stood Seven, Sixty, One Hundred-Sixteen, and Eight Hundred-Thirty-Two.

His gaze was calm as he issued orders.

"Seven, you'll manage the [Void Tunnels] to support us. I'll handle the level 240 Dark Elf."

He turned to One Hundred-Sixteen. "You deal with the level 230 Werewolf."

"Sixty, kill all the small fry."

His eyes flickered toward the last member. "Eight Hun… You. Watch our backs."

The four figures nodded in unison. No unnecessary words were exchanged.

Then, One Hundred-One took a step forward.

The world around him twisted.

The [Void Tunnels] spat him out high outside of a massive city, where he floated. The vast urban horizon stretched far beneath him, unfamiliar yet recognizable.

His sharp eyes scanned the land below.

A statue of the Christ stood tall on Corcovado Hill, arms outstretched as if welcoming the chaos that was about to unfold. Below it, the famous bay reflected the light of the sun.

Rio de Janeiro.

A city that had changed in ways he didn't have the luxury to observe. His focus was elsewhere.

The enemies surrounding the city.

In an instant, his eyes locked onto a presence—a powerful aura in the distance. A level 240 Dark Elf.

One Hundred-One didn't resort to concealing his mana, didn't rely on any tricks to mask his approach. That was not his style. He walked only one path. The Sword.

His opponent had already sensed him. The Dark Elf's head snapped up, eyes narrowing as he felt a threat.

Information flooded into One Hundred-One's vision.

A large level difference. One that might have meant something to other players.

To him, however, it was irrelevant.

A smile appeared on his lips when he noticed the sword on the Dark Elf's back.

His fingers tightened around his sword hilt.

The moment his blade slid from its sheath, a sound started echoing in the air. A sound only those attuned to the blade could truly appreciate.

His opponent, now fully alert, communicated something briefly through a hidden channel. Instants later, multiple figures materialized around them, forming an encirclement in mid-air. Stepa rose from his position, floating until he was directly in front of One Hundred-One.

For a moment, the Dark Elf said nothing and simply observed him.

Then, with a scoff, he spoke. "You are courting death, coming here as a mere level 199."

One Hundred-One stayed silent.

The only response was the continued resonance of his sword, its hum growing deeper, heavier.

Disliking being ignored, the Dark Elf reached for his own weapon, a long, black blade strapped to his back.

The moment he unsheathed it, his face twisted in alarm.

A flicker of panic in his eyes.

"Wait… why—why am I weakened?!"

His hands trembled as he gripped his blade.

"My sword skills… They're debuffed?! This—This is foul play!" His voice rose, frustration seeping in. "You coward! You dare use tricks in a duel between swordsmen?!"

One Hundred-One's smile faded.

Ever since he had sworn to live and die by the sword, his path had been clear. To hear someone who wielded a blade yet didn't understand its essence insulting him was revolting.

He raised his right hand, gazing at his sword as if speaking to an old friend.

"I thought I could feed you tonight," he murmured, "but this one isn't worthy of your blade."

His other hand lifted. He curled his fingers into a fist. In an instant, the air trembled.

Every ounce of sword intent gathered in the surroundings violently twisted, condensing into a storm of sword intent.

Stepa barely had time to scream. A moment later, the force collapsed onto him, crushing him into a pulped mist of blood.

The world fell silent.

One Hundred-One turned, his gaze shifting toward the void behind him and spoke.

"What are you waiting for?"

The moment he spoke, the [Void Tunnels] rippled. And from the sky, his brothers emerged. Seven, Sixty, and Eight Hundred-Thirty-Two stepped into reality, their movements fast. They wasted no time.

The battlefield became chaotic. Some enemy players started running for their lives, while others were already mid-motion, trying to avenge their fallen ally.

Sixty raised his hand toward the sky, his body crackling with violent arcs of electricity. When lightning started rained down, a web of attacks scorched countless figures, eradicating every player below level 200 before they could even react.

In the distance, someone appeared behind the level 230 Werewolf. Before his enemy could turn around, a short sword pierced his heart.

Before anyone else could see him, One Hundred-Sixteen's body disappeared once again, fading back into nothingness.

One Hundred-One watched, amusement glinting in his eyes.

"Brother decided to become an assassin but still relies on the sword…"

He smiled. "The short sword suits him."

Turning to the surviving players, his smile disappeared as he swung his sword for the first time.

The massacre had only just begun.