Oscar woke up early the following morning, grabbed his crossbow, and headed straight out the door toward the Host Association headquarters.
The morning air in the lower district was crisp and cool, but the atmosphere throughout the surrounding streets remained tense.
Repair crews were already hard at work replacing broken stone pavement, and armed patrols guarded major intersections.
As Oscar walked down the sidewalk, he noticed several pedestrians casting strange, lingering glances in his direction. Some pointed subtly at him, while others whispered among themselves as he passed by.
Oscar ignored their stares and maintained a steady pace. He assumed people were simply paranoid after the central plaza outbreak, looking at everyone with heightened suspicion.
Since he was carrying a weapon, they might have considered him a cleanup Host.
Upon reaching the imposing glass tower of the Host Association, Oscar pushed through the heavy doors and approached the front desk.
The main lobby was crowded with people. Most were in deep conversation about the previous day’s dungeon break.
Oscar reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out his official Host Identification Card, and placed it flat on the marble counter.
"I am here regarding the compensation processing for the central plaza outbreak," Oscar said calmly.
The young receptionist behind the counter picked up the identification card and scanned it through her desktop reader. The moment his profile appeared on her screen, her eyes widened in complete shock.
Her breath hitched, and the polite, standard smile she usually wore instantly transformed into an expression of sheer awe.
Unlike her professional but detached demeanor during his previous visits, she now looked at Oscar as if he were a mythical figure standing directly before her.
"Ah, Mr. Oscar," she stammered, her voice trembling slightly. "Please give me just one moment. I need to notify the high-ranking executive immediately. Please wait right here."
Without waiting for his reply, she practically sprinted out from behind her desk and rushed into the private elevator behind the administrative counter.
Oscar stood by the counter, utterly confused by her dramatic reaction.
’What was that about?’ Oscar thought, raising an eyebrow. ’It is so dramatic.’
Seeing that he had a few minutes to spare, Oscar pulled his smartphone from his pocket to browse the local Host Association forums and social media feeds.
The moment his news app loaded, he was greeted by dozens of trending headlines dominating the top search results.
[MYSTERY ARCHER SLAYS FERAL MINOTAURS IN CENTRAL PLAZA OUTBREAK!]
[NEW HIGH-SPEED SNIPER IDENTIFIED AT GREYMOOR SECTOR!]
[THE FLOWER SHOP BALCONY DEVIL: READ FULL BATTLE ANALYSIS!]
Oscar clicked on the top video link. High-definition footage captured by a news drone played smoothly on his screen.
The video showed the chaotic scene at the central plaza from an elevated angle. The camera zoomed in on a flower shop balcony, where a figure in a dark jacket was repeatedly pulling a trigger.
Iron bolts flew across the open plaza with terrifying precision, felling Feral Minotaurs one after another in single shots.
Fortunately, due to the heavy smoke, dust, and long range, his face was entirely blurred and unrecognizable in the footage. However, one specific object in the video was rendered in crystal-clear detail.
It was his weapon.
The angular frame and distinctive dark iron finish of his Ironbite Crossbow were completely visible every time the camera zoomed in on his position.
Oscar opened a secondary tab and searched for the official online store page of the shop where he had purchased the weapon just yesterday.
The product listing for the Ironbite Crossbow now had a massive bright red tag plastered across the top: [OUT OF STOCK].
Directly below the status tag, the pre-order counter displayed a staggering number. Over forty thousand people were currently placed on a waiting list to purchase the exact same crossbow model.
Second-hand trading forums were listing used Ironbite Crossbows for over ten times their original market price.
’Damn,’ Oscar thought, staring at the screen in disbelief.
He finally understood why people on the street had been staring at him earlier. They were not recognizing his face from the video. They were looking at the crossbow case slung over his shoulder.
Because his weapon was currently trending across every social media platform at absurd prices, passersby were deeply envious of anyone possessing one.
They were completely unaware that the young man carrying the crossbow was the actual legendary archer from the viral footage.
As Oscar continued scrolling through his feeds, a message notification popped up at the top of his screen.
He had received an urgent message, a direct priority inquiry sent through the verified Host Association network.
The sender name displayed: BlackDragon.
The short message read:
Hello, I am the blacksmith of that crossbow you are carrying. Do you want to collaborate?
Oscar raised his brows in surprise. He tapped on the sender profile to check the details of this so-called BlackDragon.
The moment the profile page loaded, Oscar froze in amazement.
A glowing golden badge was displayed right next to the username, confirming the individual’s professional credentials. It read: Tier 4 Blacksmith.
In this world, a Tier 4 Blacksmith was classified under the Epic category.
They were master craftsmen capable of forging epic equipment.
Tier 4 was the absolute pinnacle of crafting, placed directly below Legendary Tier 5 blacksmiths, of whom the entire country possessed only two individuals.
An Epic Blacksmith of that caliber was reaching out to him directly for a personal collaboration.
Oscar felt a surge of excitement rising in his chest.
Working with an Epic-tier blacksmith meant he could easily solve his weapon and ammunition bottleneck, securing high-quality gear tailored specifically to his stats.
Before Oscar could reply to the message, the private elevator behind the administrative counter chimed loudly.
The doors slid open, and a middle-aged man stepped out into the lobby, followed closely by the breathless receptionist.
The man wore a simple dark trench coat over a sharp black tactical suit. He possessed short graying hair, sharp eyes, and a calm, relaxed posture.
He appeared completely ordinary at first glance, walking with quiet, measured footsteps.
However, the instant the man stepped into the lobby, every single cell in Oscar’s body screamed in absolute alarm.
An overwhelming, suffocating pressure washed over the entire room. Oscar’s instinctual danger sense flared violently, causing his posture to stiffen instantly.
His heart hammered against his ribs like a war drum.
Without his conscious command, the Divine Hack System activated involuntarily, overriding his vision and casting a detailed blue status panel over the approaching man.
[Target Entity Status]
Name: Vance Miller
System: Annihilator System
Function(s): Blood Boost
Traits: Blood Lust | Flow Reverse | Liquid Burst
Class: Shadow Assassin (3*)
Class Skill: Stillness | Go Through | Shadow Steps
Level: 50
Attributes:
STR: 1,100
Const: 1,400
AGI: 2,450
INT: 2,100
Mana: 21,000
HP: 14,000
Oscar stared at the translucent numbers floating in the air, his breath catching in his throat.
The sheer magnitude of those statistics was mind-boggling. An Agility stat exceeding two thousand, Intelligence over two thousand, and Constitution at fourteen hundred.
Compared to this man, Oscar’s current Level 20 stats were like a tiny drop of water standing beside a vast ocean.
This man was a Level 50 Three-Star Host, a high-tier powerhouse who could obliterate him at will.
’This man... he is absurdly strong,’ Oscar thought, clenching his teeth as he forced his body to remain standing under the sheer weight of the man’s natural aura.
Vance Miller stopped three feet away from Oscar, his sharp eyes narrowing as he conducted a quick, thorough inspection of the young man standing before him.
A faint, intriguing smile touched the corner of the middle-aged man’s lips.
"So you are the young archer who cleared the plaza Ferals," Vance said, his voice deep and completely calm. "The Host Association executive board would like to have a private word with you regarding your secondary rewards."