I Can Extract Game Items

The shockwaves from the recent dungeon completion rippled far and wide. Players scattered across kingdoms, dungeons, and marketplaces were momentarily interrupted by the bold notification flashing across their screens:

[ World Notification: Congratulations to Aleman, Xyron, Aria, Kelvor, Hermes, and Thara for completing the Ogres' Dwelling Dungeon as an independent party! ]

In the Tagharuim, a group of adventurers paused mid-conversation. Their eyes widened as they registered the message. A tall, armored warrior scratched his head in disbelief.

"Did I read that right? An independent party took down the Ogres' Dwelling?"

"No way," his friend muttered, disbelief coloring his tone. "It's always guilds that claim the dungeons. Who are these guys?"

In the crowded Adventurers' Guild of Eldreon, a group of players gathered at the bar, drinks momentarily forgotten. A rogue with a dark hood leaned back in his chair, chuckling. "Well, well. Looks like the guilds aren't the only ones making a name for themselves anymore. Wonder if we could pull off something like that."

Nearby, a group of younger players looked at each other with newfound hope. "If they can do it, why can't we?"

In a quieter, shadowy part of the city, a duo of seasoned players who often followed gaming forums squinted at the notification.

"Aleman…that name sounds familiar," one of them said, scratching his chin.

"Yeah," the other replied. "Wasn't he the same guy selling items from the game? Like real-life items?"

"Now that's a guy to watch," the first expressed with a tone of curiosity.

Back inside the dungeon, as the entrance barrier dissolved and the pathway reopened, August, Xyron, Aria, Kelvor, Hermes and Thara found themselves suddenly swarmed by guild members from Phoenix Celestial and Dragon's Fang, the guilds who had originally staked a claim on the Ogres' Dwelling.

One of the captains, stepped forward, sneering. "So, you lot thought you could waltz in and clear a dungeon we've been waiting to claim?"

"We just happened to be here first," Aria replied coolly, stepping forward.

Her guild members quickly formed a protective semi-circle around her.

Another player from Dragon's Fang crossed his arms, scowling at August. "Hand over the loot if you know what's good for you. You had no right in that dungeon."

August's eyes darted around as a smirk slowly formed on his face. He'd had enough run-ins with players like these to know how this would play out. "Sorry, but we earned this loot fair and square. Not interested in a trade."

A rogue from Phoenix Celestial pointed to August as her eyes gleamed with recognition. "Wait a minute... Aleman? You're the guy who's been selling game items in real life, aren't you?"

"Who?"

That caught a few more players' attention. Murmurs broke out as people tried to put the pieces together.

"Enough!" the Dragon's Fang warrior barked. "Drop the loot, or there will be trouble."

August let out a soft chuckle, stepping back as if considering his options. Then, in the next moment, he activated Shadow Dance, bursting into a cascade of afterimages as he melted into the shadows.

"That's my cue to leave!" his voice faded as he sprinted toward the dungeon exit.

"Get him!" The captain yelled.

Aria watched with an amused smile, admiration clear in her eyes. "Smart move, Aleman," she murmured as she watched him disappear into the distance.

---

Back in the real world, sunlight was streaming through August's window as he opened his eyes, adjusting to the brightness of the new day.

The fresh air filled his room, reminding him that today was an important day: he would finally sell the Runic Sword to Mr. Floozk.

He stretched, took a quick shower, and then prepared breakfast, mentally calculating his next steps. The five hundred thousand dollars Damon had demanded was due in two days, but this sale would finally put him in a good position.

As he grabbed his coffee and finished breakfast, Sophia trotted out of her room with tousled hair.

August flashed her a smile. "Morning, Sophia! Make sure you save a little from that 'uniform fund' I left you, alright? A girl needs her ice cream."

Sophia laughed, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, big brother! And don't you worry—I'm getting the biggest ice cream scoop they sell."

"Sounds like a solid plan," August chuckled, patting her head affectionately. "See you later."

With that, he was out the door and on his way to work.

---

At the factory, Derrick greeted him with his usual grin and a friendly nudge. "Another late-night grinding session?"

August shrugged, grinning. "You know it. Though today's not just any day—I'm finally taking a big step that will help Sophia and me. If it works out, the debt will be taken care of."

Derrick raised his eyebrows with an impressed look. "Man, good for you. That guy Damon will have to find someone else to hassle." He paused, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening. "Think you'll be able to cut down on these shifts soon?"

"That's the plan. If this goes fine, I'll finally get some breathing room."

The shift passed without incident, and as they finished, Derrick patted him on the back. "Hey, about time, man. You've been grinding for as long as I can remember. Go enjoy some downtime once this is all settled, alright?"

August grinned, clapping Derrick on the shoulder. "Will do. And hey—tell me when you've got some free time yourself. I owe you a drink or two."

---

When the workday ended, Derrick waved goodbye, taking an unfamiliar bus route once again. August watched his friend go with a slight frown on his face, but he quickly shook it off.

He had an appointment to keep, and he couldn't afford to be late.

He boarded a bus heading toward the upscale restaurant where he had previously met Mr. Floozk.

He arrived at the bustling venue, where the warm lighting, smooth decor, and chatter of well-dressed patrons set the scene. August took a seat, ordered a coffee, and settled in to wait.

Fifteen minutes passed. He sipped his coffee as his eyes drifted to the door whenever someone entered, but Mr. Floozk was nowhere in sight.

Another twenty minutes went by, and August began tapping his fingers on the table.

A faint sense of unease settled in. He ordered a second coffee, trying to stay patient, but after another half-hour with no sign of Mr. Floozk, his unease deepened.

"Where is he?" he murmured, checking his phone for any missed calls or messages. Nothing.

What made this more unsettling was the fact that he canceled his sale with the previous buyer for Mr Floozk. He wasn't expecting any disappointments.

He finished his second coffee and glanced at the clock. Nearly an hour and a half had passed since he'd arrived. As the minutes ticked by, the feeling of unease grew stronger, twisting into a knot of anxiety.

"Come on…" he muttered, glancing around the restaurant. People came and went, but none of them were Mr. Floozk.

August clenched his fist, resisting the urge to get up and pace. The last time they'd met, Mr. Floozk had been punctual even though it wasn't his sale so why had he decided to do this when it was finally his turn?

Had something happened?