Chapter 59: Negotiation Failed
Flynn wasn’t the type to make promises lightly, and he certainly didn’t make them just to sound good. If he said he would do something, he meant it, especially when it came to Amy.
For one, Chad clearly had influence, the kind that could open doors most players wouldn’t even know existed, and since Amy and her team had helped him find his footing in the game, returning the favor felt only natural. Beyond that, if Chad’s guild, Iron-Blooded Academy, wanted to expand its reach, then building ties with capable studios was the smartest way forward. More allies meant more opportunities, and in a game like this, connections mattered just as much as skill.
After wrapping up his conversation with Amy, and confirming that the Aether-Reach players were still stubbornly camping his corpse without the slightest intention of backing off, Flynn sent a message to Chad, briefly explaining the situation and mentioning Amy’s team. Chad didn’t hesitate. Iron-Blooded Academy already had a solid network of partner studios, but there was no downside to adding another, especially one like Let-There-Be-Light, which had a reputation for being both reliable and competent.
Once that was settled, Chad shifted gears as if nothing serious had just been discussed. "So, where are you right now? Want to run a dungeon later?"
"A dungeon? Not a chance. I’m busy," Flynn replied immediately, not even pretending to consider it. He had just been killed, his target was still standing, and his revenge was only getting started. There was no way he was walking away from that.
Chad groaned. "Don’t do this to me, Flynn. The Glorious Achievement, remember? You promised you’d help me get it. You can’t just go back on your word like that."
"I’m not backing out," Flynn said, his tone relaxed, almost lazy. "Just not right now. I’ll come find you after I finish what I’m doing."
There was a brief pause. "...And what exactly are you doing?"
"In the mines. Having a little PvP. These guys are corpse-guarding me."
There was a faint edge of annoyance in his voice now. Ten minutes had passed, and instead of getting bored and leaving, the Aether-Reach players had settled in like they were hosting a picnic. Some of them had even sat down, clearly prepared to wait him out.
Flynn himself didn’t mind. Waiting was something he was very, very good at.
Chad, on the other hand, did mind.
"What?" His voice sharpened instantly. "Who’s doing it? Which guild? I’m coming right now."
"Aether-Reach," Flynn answered, then added without missing a beat, "but don’t bother. They’re nothing special. I can handle it."
Before, he might have let Chad intervene without thinking twice, but things were different now. Knowing Chad was tied to Iron-Blooded Academy changed the stakes. What started as a personal grudge would escalate into something much bigger the moment another guild stepped in, and Flynn had no intention of turning this into a full-scale conflict.
"Aether-Reach?" Chad sounded genuinely confused. "How did you even end up fighting them?"
"They’re just sitting on resources they’re not even using," Flynn said lightly. "Guarding a goldmine and not digging it."
Chad opened his mouth, then closed it again. That argument hit a little too close to home. Iron-Blooded Academy wasn’t exactly innocent of similar behavior, and he knew it. Still, that didn’t change the fact that Flynn was his brother, and the idea of him being pinned down like that didn’t sit well.
He cleared his throat, trying a different angle. "If it’s Aether-Reach, then it’s easy. I know some of their higher-ups. I can make a call, smooth things over. Or, if you’re still pissed, I can bring people. Just say the word."
Flynn let out a quiet laugh. "I don’t think your call’s going to help much anymore."
"Hey, don’t underestimate me!" Chad snapped, instantly bristling. His voice rose in protest, sharp and indignant, like a cat whose tail had just been stepped on. "Blood-Stained Boxers isn’t just some random name, you know!"
Instead of arguing, Flynn simply sent him a piece of data.
"I grabbed this."
Chad opened it, and for a moment, everything went quiet on his end.
The True-Sight Crystal.
He stared at it, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief, and then to something much more serious. He understood exactly what that item represented, even if most players didn’t yet grasp its full importance. Right now, using it to keep Rogues out of a mining zone was excessive, almost laughable, like bringing siege artillery to swat a fly.
But later?
Once the guild system fully rolled out and strongholds became a reality, the value of that crystal would skyrocket. It would be mounted at the entrance of guild halls, preventing stealth-based players from infiltrating, stealing sensitive information, or sabotaging critical assets. In guild warfare, it wouldn’t just be useful, it would be essential.
Its price, as things stood, was impossible to pin down. The game was still new, and no one knew if items like this would become more common over time. But right now, Aether-Reach appeared to be the only guild that had one, and judging by how tightly they guarded it, they had no intention of letting it go.
If Flynn had really taken it, then this situation had already gone beyond anything Chad could casually fix.
"How did you even get it?" Chad finally asked. "Killing players doesn’t drop gear yet."
"I didn’t kill for it," Flynn replied. "I took it right out of his hands."
Chad froze for a second, then immediately began testing the idea. He had a friend hold different items while he tried to snatch them. Weapons and armor refused to budge, locked in their equipment slots, but anything held in hand was another story. A potion, for example, could be taken if the timing was right.
After several attempts, the conclusion became clear; Items in active use could be stolen.
"Aether-Reach just got hit hard," Chad muttered under his breath, the implications sinking in. He quickly relayed his findings back to Flynn, then added, "A player like you? They won’t let this go. Don’t accept any recruitment offers from them. If you’re joining a guild, it should be Iron-Blooded Academy."
He paused, then continued, "And that crystal... It’s not useful to you personally right now. You should use it to negotiate. Make them pay for it. If you’re unsure about the price, ask me, or even Let-There-Be-Light."
Flynn leaned back slightly, considering, then asked, "You want it?"
Chad let out an awkward laugh. "Of course I do, but holding onto it right now is just tying up value. It won’t be useful for a while. You’re better off trading it back to Aether-Reach. Their leader will definitely pay a premium."
"No need," Flynn replied. "I’m not dragging Iron-Blooded Academy into this."
He might not have years of experience in this specific game, but when it came to people, he wasn’t inexperienced. The moment another guild became involved, Aether-Reach’s leadership would assume he was acting on someone else’s orders, and that would complicate everything.
Chad understood immediately. Flynn could afford to play this slowly. With the True-Sight Crystal in his possession, the pressure wasn’t on him.
---
Back at the mines, things were beginning to unravel.
When Chaos’s friend logged back in and confirmed the situation, Whitestone felt his stomach drop. The report was clear. The True-Sight Crystal was gone, and the most likely explanation was that Night-Stalker had taken it.
He had suspected as much, but hearing it confirmed made it real.
His earlier report to the higher-ups had been deliberately vague, an attempt to buy time, but that window had closed. Now he had to decide whether to come clean or continue holding back.
The decision didn’t take long. He sent a full report.
Withholding information would only make things worse.
The response came sooner than expected, and while it wasn’t outright harsh, it carried enough weight to make the situation clear. This was no longer something he could handle on his own.
Whitestone exhaled slowly, a trace of relief slipping through despite everything. At least the responsibility had shifted upward.
He turned to the players still guarding Flynn’s corpse and waved them off. "That’s enough. Everyone, back to your positions. The higher-ups are taking over. If he resurrects, don’t engage."
The reaction was immediate confusion.
"Wait, what? We’re just letting him go?"
"They probably want him to revive so we can kill him again, right?"
Whitestone’s patience snapped. "Use your brains," he shot back sharply. "This isn’t a game anymore. Orders are orders. They’re already negotiating with him. This is out of our hands."
That was enough to silence them.
Grumbling under their breath, the players dispersed, returning to their duties. Within minutes, the once-crowded area emptied out, leaving only two patrol guards and Whitestone himself.
He lingered for a moment, glancing at Flynn’s corpse, then turned to leave.
That was when he caught it; a flicker of movement.
It was subtle, almost imperceptible, like a shadow slipping where it didn’t belong. By the time he turned his head, there was nothing there, but when his gaze dropped back to the ground, the corpse was gone.
"Resurrected..." he murmured, licking his lips. "So you were here the whole time."
A faint, wry smile tugged at his mouth. ’Clever.’
He took a step forward, but pain exploded across his back.
A deafening blast followed, fire blooming outward as if it had been waiting for that exact moment. The impact hit before his mind could catch up, his health bar collapsing in an instant under the combined burst of damage.
’An ambush?’
He tried to react, to move, to do anything, but it was already over. The lingering burn effect drained what little remained, and after two unsteady steps, he fell.
The world went dark.
Whitestone lay there, staring at nothing, his thoughts blank for a split second before rushing back all at once.
’How...?’
He shifted his perspective, forcing his camera to turn, and the answer snapped into place.
"Damn it... it’s him again."
Anger surged, hot and immediate. Negotiations? Higher-ups? None of it mattered if the other party had no intention of playing along. The two nearby guards rushed over, but by the time they arrived, Whitestone was already dead, and the attacker had vanished like smoke.
"Boss Whitestone, what happened?" one of them asked, noticing he hadn’t released yet.
Whitestone let out a long breath. "Night-Stalker," he said, the irritation clear even through text. "That guy’s a real problem."
The two players exchanged uneasy glances. "But... didn’t you say the higher-ups were talking to him? Why would he still attack?"
Whitestone’s fingers tightened slightly as he typed.
"How should I know."
Then something occurred to him. He immediately opened a private message channel and sent a request, but the system replied instantly.
[This user has blocked messages from strangers.]
Whitestone stared at the notification, his expression darkening. "He turned off his comm-link..."
That meant even their guild leader wouldn’t be able to reach him.
Suppressing his frustration, Whitestone sent another message anyway. "Night-Stalker, our guild leader wants to talk. Turn your comm-link back on. I’ll revive in a bit. Don’t attack."
He waited. One minute passed, then three, then five...
Nothing.
Cursing under his breath, he finally released his spirit and made his way back to the mines. When he arrived, he kept his distance, scanning the area carefully before asking in team chat, "Anyone seen him?"
Replies came quickly.
"Nope."
"Gone."
"He must’ve left."
Whitestone let out a slow breath. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly, though not completely. Just to be safe, he waited another five minutes, watching, listening, and making sure nothing felt off.
Only then did he step into range and resurrect.
His health returned partially, and he immediately reached for some bread to recover the rest. He didn’t even get the chance to take a bite.
A burst of fire erupted around him, sudden and violent, tearing through what little health he had regained. In less than three seconds, his bar dropped to zero again.
"You son of a—!"
Whitestone’s roar cut off as he collapsed, his gaze locking onto Flynn’s figure just as it blurred, already slipping back into Stealth.
Rage surged through him, sharp and helpless.
If he could have moved, he would have thrown himself forward without hesitation, grabbed the man by the collar, and strangled him on the spot.