MMORPG: Rise of the Strongest Shadow God

Flynn slipped out of the mercenary tavern and vanished into stealth almost the instant his boots hit the street, lingering just a short distance away beneath the edge of a nearby awning. He didn’t have to wait long. Moments later, the tavern doors flew open and a group of NPC mercenaries spilled out, their faces tight with anger as they scanned the street like hunting dogs that had lost a scent. They hovered there for a long while, muttering curses and glaring into the shadows, before finally giving up and retreating back inside.

Flynn let out a low whistle once the doors shut. Those were level thirty and forty NPCs, absolute monsters at this stage of the game. If he’d lingered another minute, they would have beaten him flat into the cobblestones. Even so, he kept his stealth active as he put more distance between himself and the Mercenary Guild, refusing to relax until the building was well behind him.

Minutes later, the door creaked open again.

"He’s definitely gone."

"Yeah, but how the hell did he move that fast?"

"Stealth. Damned rogues. Linda’s a menace, and that little pretty boy she’s protecting is just as bad."

Another NPC went pale and clamped a hand over the speaker’s mouth. "Shut up! You want us all dead? If she hears you talking like that, we’re finished."

The man froze, the bravado draining from his face as cold fear set in.

While the tavern’s regulars nursed their wounded pride and newly formed grudge, Flynn decided Knightly Town could wait. Instead, he made his way through the city streets toward a far more familiar destination: the workshop of Gnomo, the Engineering Mentor.

Gnomo’s shop was exactly as Flynn remembered it, cluttered with tools, half-finished contraptions, and the faint smell of hot metal. The old engineer himself sat hunched on a stool, his bald head gleaming under the workshop lights as he stared morosely at his reflection in a polished steel plate. He seemed to be counting the few stubborn strands of hair still clinging to his scalp, one by one.

Flynn stepped inside with a crooked grin. "Master Gnomo, you look like you’re having a rough morning."

Gnomo barely glanced up. He let out a long, heavy sigh that sounded like it had crawled up from the depths of his soul. "Rough doesn’t even begin to describe it, Night-Stalker. I’m staring at a problem I can’t solve."

A problem? Flynn’s interest sharpened instantly. In any MMO, an NPC’s problem usually translated into a player’s opportunity. He dragged a stool over and sat across from the old man. "What kind of problem could stump a legendary engineer like you?"

The flattery worked. Gnomo straightened slightly, his eyes focusing on Flynn with renewed attention. "You’re an adventurer," he said slowly. "Maybe you really can help." He cleared his throat. "With all of you pouring into Moster City, security is stretched thin. The City Defense Commander issued an order. Every engineering shop must produce a batch of weapons for the guard."

Flynn nodded. "That sounds normal enough."

"It would be," Gnomo snapped, "if the Logistics Team hadn’t decided to line their pockets." He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "The military is supposed to supply the raw materials, but those snakes are skimming off the top. Silver and tungsten fetch a fortune on the black market. Shave off ten percent, and they’re set for a year."

Flynn raised his eyebrows in mock disbelief. "No way."

Gnomo snorted. "Oh, it’s happened before. They used to be subtle about it. They leave us just enough to finish the job, even if we made nothing. But now... to complete the order, we’d have to pay out of pocket. And as if that wasn’t enough, you adventurers have stripped the market bare. There isn’t a single decent bar of tungsten or silver left in Moster City."

Flynn blinked. He knew exactly why the market was empty. Every major guild was hoarding those materials for the mid-game surge, buying out auctions in seconds. And sitting quietly in his inventory was a modest stash of both metals, not massive, but more than enough for what Gnomo described.

He suppressed a smile and kept his voice steady. "How much are you short?"

Gnomo didn’t hesitate. "A hundred bars of tungsten and a hundred of silver. That covers what went ’missing.’ I also need copper and iron, but those aren’t the problem. My apprentices can handle that. The real issue is the mines. Tungsten and silver veins are locked down tight. My people can’t even get close."

Flynn’s heart did a small victory lap. He didn’t have the common metals, but the rare ones were sitting right there in his bag. He hesitated deliberately. "I was at the mines recently. Security there is no joke."

Gnomo’s eyes lit up. He hopped off his stool and scurried over. "You’ve been inside? To the core zone?"

Flynn nodded noncommittally.

"That’s perfect!" Gnomo whispered. "You could procure what we need. Quietly."

"And how would you suggest I do that?"

Gnomo gave him a crooked, sheepish grin. "Grease a few palms. Cut a deal with the miners. It’s against city ordinances, yes, but desperate times..."

Flynn shook his head. "Too risky. Those guards don’t take bribes from strangers."

Gnomo scowled. "Then do you have a better idea?"

Flynn let the silence stretch, then sighed. "What I have wasn’t easy to get. If I’m parting with it, I’ll need fair compensation."

Gnomo froze. Then his eyes widened, and he nearly shouted. "You mean... you already have it?"

Flynn slowly pulled the materials from his bag, arranging them on the workshop floor. One hundred bars of tungsten. One hundred bars of silver. The dull metallic gleam filled the room.

Gnomo stared for a heartbeat, then practically dove onto the pile. "Sweet heavens, look at that shine! I haven’t seen this much high-grade ore in years!" He pressed his cheek to the metal like it was a long-lost lover.

When he finally scrambled back to his feet, his tone had changed completely, slick with enthusiasm. "I knew it the moment I met you. A top-tier rogue and a natural engineer. Where did you get these?"

"The core zone," Flynn said calmly. "And I paid for them. I planned to use them myself, but I won’t leave you hanging."

Gnomo beamed and clapped Flynn on the shoulder. "Good lad. We’ll use these for military-grade rifles. If I’m careful, I might squeeze out a few extras. When the batch is done, I’ll give you the surplus."

Flynn frowned. A thank-you and maybe a few leftovers for a hundred bars of rare ore sounded suspiciously light.

Gnomo caught the look and hurried on. "These aren’t ordinary guns. Every rifle will be at least Bronze-grade, far better than civilian gear. And since you’re an engineer, I’ll give you something else."

He rummaged through a cabinet and returned with a weathered scroll. "The schematic. I’ll teach you how to make them yourself."

Flynn unrolled it, his eyes widening as he read.

—

Schematic: Elite Infantry Rifle (Bronze-grade)

Standard-issue firearm of the Moster City Guard.

Materials Required: 10 Copper Ingots, 8 Iron Ingots, 12 Tungsten Screws, 1 Silver Scope.

Requirement: Junior Engineer, Engineering Proficiency 9,000.

---

"Nine thousand?" Flynn muttered. His proficiency was barely past four thousand.

Still, the rifle itself was terrifying. Level twenty-five gear with obscene attack power. He nodded, finally satisfied.

Gnomo warned him that the first batch would go to the military and that crafting would take time. Flynn didn’t mind. He was nowhere near level twenty-five anyway. After learning a few minor recipes, he headed for the door.

Halfway out, he stopped dead.

’Wait... can a Ranger even use a rifle?’

The realization hit him like a brick. Rangers used bows and crossbows. Rifles should belong to Sharpshooters and Snipers, if there was something like that. If he couldn’t use them, what exactly was he supposed to do with so many military-grade firearms?

"Are you kidding me?" Flynn groaned, a sinking feeling settling in his gut.

For the first time since entering the workshop, he wondered if the old engineer had just played him. And if so, it had been one hell of an expensive lesson.