"Huh? Did someone just say they're selling equipment?"
Lucas's sharp hearing picked up the word "equipment" from among the endless shouts echoing across the hillside marketplace. His curiosity was instantly piqued, and he turned toward the voice, weaving through the small crowd.
He reached a rough little stall—just a wooden crate and a blanket spread on the ground—and glanced at the displayed gear.
The item in question was a Level 20 whiteboard outfit, basic gear crafted by someone with a Life Profession. Its stats were only slightly better than his Level 1 purple-quality novice outfit. The vendor had the nerve to ask for 15,000 yuan for it.
Lucas scoffed. "Definitely not worth it."
He shifted to another vendor who had loudly advertised a silver-scale breastplate, supposedly green quality. But upon closer inspection, it was just Level 10 low-grade armor, heavy and totally unsuitable for an assassin like himself.
"No wonder it's priced at only 5,000 yuan," he thought. "Still overpriced."
Most of these vendors were clearly selling homemade gear, crafted from basic materials using Life Profession blueprints. And most of the items were heavy armor—not even wearable for his class.
Lucas sighed. "No chance I'll get a lucky bargain today. My luck must have all been used up the day I awakened."
After all, he'd defeated dozens of wild monsters by now and the only noteworthy drop had been his Ring of Tiger Teeth—and even that came from an Elite-class wandering beast.
"Hopefully I'll have better luck inside the dungeon."
With that, Lucas left the crowd of vendors behind and began making his way toward the swirling light of the Level 20 dungeon portal.
Just as he was about to enter, a cheerful female voice called out behind him.
"Hey there, handsome! You heading into the dungeon too?"
He turned, slightly startled, to see a mature woman in a priest's robe smiling warmly at him. Her expression was friendly, but her tone had a playful hint to it.
"You look like an assassin," she said, walking closer with confident strides. "We happen to be looking for one more high-damage teammate. Want to join us?"
Lucas looked past her and noticed three others standing nearby. All of them seemed to be career changers, geared up and ready for dungeon runs. Their outfits weren't fancy—just mismatched pieces of low-to-mid-tier gear, likely whatever they could afford or loot.
That wasn't uncommon. In this world, unless you had serious funds, most players mixed and matched whatever equipment they could find.
The woman in front of him, however, stood out. Her gear was coordinated and of visibly higher quality—a clear sign she was stronger than her team.
And as a priest, she held a staff that shimmered with a gentle white glow, radiating a comforting presence.
She was undeniably attractive. Her eyes were deep and captivating, her lips painted a vibrant red that stood out against the white of her robes.
And it was hard not to notice—her curves. The front of her robe strained under the weight of her ample chest, swaying gently with every step.
"Hmm... I was planning to solo the dungeon," Lucas said thoughtfully. "What difficulty are you aiming for?"
He was cautious, but polite.
Looking again at the group's equipment, Lucas could tell they weren't exactly elite players. Still, he wasn't ruling them out just yet.
The mature woman—clearly the team's leader—smiled more brightly.
"We only run the dungeon on Difficult mode."
That caught Lucas's interest.
She had understood something important: If Lucas had no confidence, he would've asked to run Normal mode. But he hadn't. That meant he was at least confident enough to entertain a harder challenge.
Still, Lucas wasn't one to trust strangers easily.
He glanced to the side and pointed discreetly. "There's a high-output mage over there shouting for a party to run Difficult mode. Why not invite him instead?"
He remembered hearing the mage clearly earlier. His memory was sharp. If they really needed DPS, that mage would've been an obvious choice.
His guard was up. Teachers had warned all students: Outside the safety of school and city, trust was earned slowly.
Death in the dungeon wasn't permanent—you'd respawn—but reviving cost a fortune, and loot could be stolen if you weren't careful.
Unless you were the party leader and set the loot distribution rules, you might end up empty-handed even after a hard battle.
The mature woman, who introduced herself as Sister Chen, laughed lightly and shook her head.
"Oh, that guy?"
Her tone changed ever so slightly—still cheerful, but now laced with sarcasm.
"That guy's well-known around here. Not for his skills—for his greed. He demands over half the loot in every run. No one likes partying with him unless they're desperate."
Lucas raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Ah, I see," he nodded. "This is my first time here."
"I figured. You've got that fresh-off-the-boat look."
Sister Chen gave him a sly wink, clearly amused.
"…So, what level are you?" she asked, looking him over with interest. "Your equipment looks... solid."
It did look good—a complete matching set, with clean lines and uniform colors. To the average observer, it probably looked like a full purple set.
What she didn't know was that it was still his Level 1 novice gear, just well-designed and carefully maintained.
Though the stats were falling behind modern standards, the three-star quality made it surprisingly durable, still holding up against Level 20 whiteboard gear.
Of course, Lucas wasn't going to volunteer that information.
"I just hit Level 20, actually."
He smiled with a casual air. "Thought I'd come try the dungeon for the first time."
Sister Chen blinked, surprised.
Behind her, the three teammates heard the conversation. One of them—a man in armor holding a shield—snorted rudely.
"Oh, come on, Chen. The kid just hit 20 and you're going to bring him along?"
His voice was harsh, and there was a bitter edge to his tone.
He was clearly a tank-class warrior, with a longsword at his hip and a defensive stance.
Lucas could tell just from his posture that the guy was used to calling the shots—or thought he was.
"He's probably just a clueless newbie. If he wastes our ticket or dies mid-run, we're on the hook for 50,000 if he needs resurrection."
Lucas stayed calm, watching the tank closely.
He could tell what was really going on.
The guy had a crush on Sister Chen, and now he was mad because she was paying attention to someone younger and, perhaps, more capable-looking.
Lucas didn't respond immediately.
He understood that joining a team wasn't just about strength—it was also about trust. These people didn't know him, and for all they knew, he was just some green recruit who barely made it to Level 20.
He smiled faintly and nodded. "That's fair. I'd be cautious too if I were you."
Sister Chen raised her hand calmly, silencing the armored man. She gave Lucas another look, her eyes thoughtful.
"…Then prove it. Let's run one dungeon together," she said. "If you're as good as you look, we'll make you a regular in the party."
Lucas's grin sharpened.
"Deal. Just don't slow me down."
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