Chapter 86- Identity Exposed.
Leo arrived at the airfield where a small private jet waited on the tarmac.
There were no flight attendants and no announcements.
They boarded at once. Hargrave and the other man took the sofa across from each other; Leo sat opposite them.
The jet lifted off without lag or rattle. It was a premium aircraft, built for quiet comfort.
He looked out the window and watched Pennsylvania shrink beneath him. They were already thousands of feet above the ground. He checked his phone, there was no signal at this height.
Leo’s thoughts drifted back to the earlier conversation with David—specifically the part where David had said he would start targeting the people close to him.
That did not sit well with Leo.
He knows about Rook, Cindy... even all my neighbors.
The cycle of overthinking tightened something in his chest.
Before he could sort out his thoughts about David, Fiona, or Ms. Mosk, they had arrived.
The flight had lasted only two hours.
They landed on a private strip cut into the Texas scrubland.
A black sedan—slightly different from David’s—was waiting.
The man who had accompanied them on the jet sat up front with the driver while Fiona rode in the back with Leo.
The drive took forty minutes. Long before they reached the gates, Leo could already see the famous Space Z complex rising from the low industrial sprawl around it.
They stopped at the security checkpoint; Fiona flashed a card and they were waved through. Moments later two escort cars fell in behind them.
A few minutes after that, a glass-and-steel tower appeared, rising from the complex like a needle driven into the desert. They pulled into the underground parking garage.
Hargrave led Leo through a corridor and into an elevator.
They rode for nearly three minutes.
Leo could not help wondering what would happen if the elevator malfunctioned.
Boy, wouldn’t they get tired to death just climbing the stairs?
The elevator finally stopped.
Its doors opened onto a single office.
Floor-to-ceiling windows framed a view of the Texas sky stretching to every horizon. The room held only sparse furniture: a long table, a few chairs, a desk.
No decorations. No trophies.
Just clean lines and a vista that made the world look very small.
A woman sat at the head of the table.
Leo had seen her on the news.
She was the first trillionaire on Earth—the woman who had single-handedly built Space Z and Nexus AI. She wore a business suit, her hair tied in a neat bun at the back of her head.
She nodded once. "Sit."
Leo sat.
Hargrave and the other man left. The door closed behind them.
Mosk folded her hands on the table. "You are ’the’ Leo Stone—the blacksmith from the world announcement, right?"
Leo nodded. "You already know it."
"Yeah." She tilted her head slightly. "I’ve known for a while. We have good blacksmiths of our own in Myth Online—one Epic-class—but none of them could forge something like yours. Every forgers are unique in their own right; they probably wouldn’t lose out to yours."
"Then why bring me here?"
Elona shrugged. "Because the Ascendants were about to force your hand, and I didn’t want a good forger ruined or pushed into joining my competitors."
She leaned back in her chair and turned toward the windows. "Mr. Stone, I don’t use threats. I don’t like forcing people. I believe that when people act of their own free will, they can be more creative, more inspired, and harder-working. Force them, and they’ll only do the bare minimum—sub-par work at best."
Leo nodded. "Well, the Ascendant bastards—Paul and David, who work for them—don’t seem to think that way."
"Paul and David are contractors. Just middlemen. They work for people with power, or at least people who think they have power." She waved her hands. "Anyway, I think building a good relationship with talented individuals is also a form of power. So I want to be on good terms with you, Mr. Leo."
Leo stared at her expressionlessly.
"So you don’t want me to join you?"
"Of course I want you to join us. You are a once-in-a-millennium talent. A genius. I want your mind, your talent, your blacksmithing." She paused. "However, I don’t want to force you. If you want to join us, I welcome you. If not... that’s simply how it is. You’re not just talented—you’re a once-in-a-generation anomaly. I’d rather have you as a friend than a competitor."
Leo studied her. She looked back, patient and still.
No threats. No leverage. Just... an offer.
It was so different from David’s approach that it almost felt like a trap. Yet he sensed no ill intent from her.
"So what do you expect from me?" Leo asked.
"Nothing immediate. Visit my guild in Myth Online. See what we’ve built. If you want, you can join. If you don’t, we can still do business—and we will still do our best to keep the Ascendants off your back."
"That simple?"
"Everything is simple when you have enough money." Elona said it with the ghost of a smile.
Leo was about to speak when the door opened.
A secretary hurried in and hussed something into Elona’s ear. Mosk’s eyes widened slightly; she glanced at Leo, then nodded and told the secretary to turn on the television.
The screen flickered to life on a news channel.
WORLD-FIRST FORGER UNMASKED: LEO STONE, 22, BLACKSMITH, PENN AVENUE
Beneath the headline sat a photograph—Leo’s face, clear, high-resolution, unmistakable. His smithy. The street. The sign out front.
Leo stood in surprise.
"This was released an hour ago," Mosk said. "Anonymous tip to the three major gaming outlets simultaneously. Full identity leak. Name, face, address, workplace, training schedule... Pretty much the Ascendants’ doing."
Leo didn’t know what to say.
"Your place will be swarmed by now," Mosk continued. "Journalists, recruiters, bounty hunters, guild representatives. Everyone who ever wondered who the world-first forger was now has an answer." She paused. "Stay here a few days. My security can keep the vultures off."
Leo took out his phone and texted Rook:
"I am safe now. At Elona Mosk’s place in Texas. My Identity got leaked... it’s public now. Don’t come to the smithy. Better if we meet in-game only for now. Just text me if you need anything.
He set the phone down and looked at the screen again. The chyron had changed:
LEO STONE: THE BLACKSMITH WHO CHANGED MYTH ONLINE
His face. His name. His address.
He scrolled through the Myth Online forums. A megathread had already been pinned:
THREAD: The World-First Epic Forger Has Been Identified — Leo Stone]
It’s official.
Multiple outlets confirmed.
The world-first Epic forger is a 22-year-old blacksmith named Leo Stone, operating out of Penn Avenue, [REDACTED].
His smithy, his face, his training schedule—it’s all out there. Ascendant Holdings dropped the package. Three outlets at once.
Top comments flooded the page:
What?? He’s a forger in real life too?
Oh, a run-down smithy on Penn Avenue.
How did he make an Epic-rank item?
How do we contact him? Does he take custom orders?
Crimson Flame Guild Leader (Rank 2): Join our guild. We will protect you.
Heavenly Alliance Guild Leader: Leo Stone, you should join us. We will make a great team and consider all your requests.
Blue Lightning Guild...
Assassin Union...
Crafters Association...
And on and on.....
....
Leo sat in Mosk’s office, hands pressed into his hair, thinking hard.
Fuck. The game will soon bleed into the real world. The animals will start to mutate, the dungeons will appear, and these fucking nutjobs are after me.
I came here because I thought this rich lady might be able to help when the time comes. Should I tell her?
No. She’ll just take me for insane. I have a feeling I’ll soon be able to summon my Eternal Flame in the real world as well—maybe even some soul-bound weapons. When that happens, it’ll be easier to convince them.
Mosk remained silent, letting him think.
"Are you angry?" she asked at last.
Leo shook his head. "No. I’m not. I just feel stupid."
"I had a feeling something was wrong... that it was a trap when I walked out of my house."
"You walked out because you were tired of hiding," Mosk said. It was a statement of fact, not comfort. "That’s not stupidity. That’s human."
"My security will keep the press away," she continued. "Stay as long as you need. A few days, at least. Let the storm pass."
"And after?"
"After, you decide what kind of blacksmith you want to be." She stood. "The world knows your name now, Mr. Stone. The question is what you do with it."
---
Meanwhile, on Penn Avenue, inside the fencing salle, an old man complained, "Fuck. Just what has this kid been doing? He’s so fucking famous all of a sudden."
Cindy chimed in, "Grandpa, his house is filled with reporters. But he texted that he’s with Elona Mosk....’the’ Elona Mosk. So we don’t need to worry."
"Tsk. Text the brat. I’ll be going over there to see him."
"Huh? You want to go see Leo? You just want to see Elona Mosk in person, don’t you?" Cindy said, eyes narrowed.
"Ahm, no. I just want to make sure he’s safe and doesn’t miss his fencing practice. Hehe."
But the old man was already imagining the beauty of Mosk.
"Hehehehe..."
...