Ryan, who had just re-entered the dungeon, had no idea that his simple refusal to sell information had stirred something unusual in a young woman.
Nor could he have known that, at this very moment, the game forums were in chaos.
A post titled "Featherlight's Dungeon Clear: A Conspiracy?" had just been pinned manually and was gaining momentum at lightning speed. Comments poured in, drawing the attention of players across all factions.
The post's author, "Black Moon," started off by pointing out a basic fact: players needed to be Level 4 to enter the dungeon. In his own Undead faction, the highest-level player had only just hit Level 3—and even that had taken tremendous effort. It would still be some time before anyone from their side could even dream of setting foot inside a dungeon.
And yet, right then, the system announced that someone named Featherlight had successfully cleared one.
Black Moon was baffled. Had Featherlight done it solo? Or was it a party clear?
If it was a party run, why was only Featherlight's name listed in the system broadcast? Where did he even find other Level 4 players to team up with? How many Level 4s existed in the entire game right now—three? Four, maybe?
The strongest Undead player, the one who'd just hit Level 3, was a well-known gaming prodigy—someone who went pro in every game he touched and earned millions a year from sponsorships and tournaments.
But even he hadn't made it inside yet.
Compared to Featherlight—or whoever might have been with him—he looked like he hadn't even left the tutorial.
The more Black Moon thought about it, the less sense it made. If it really had been a solo clear, then just how easy was that dungeon? Or rather—how strong was Featherlight?
That couldn't be it. Kingdom Forge was marketed as a team-centric MMO, not a single-player power fantasy where someone could waltz through dungeons alone. Something was off. Seriously off.
---
The post ignited a firestorm almost immediately. Discussions exploded across forums and social media. Dozens of players even called the game company's support line directly, demanding answers.
The phone lines were jammed within minutes.
Inside the company headquarters, the staff was in full panic mode. But due to a new special regulation passed by the Federation, they weren't allowed to disclose anything to the public. All they could do was repeat their scripted confidentiality policy over and over again.
"There's no other way," one of the higher-ups finally said, brushing a hand across his sweat-drenched forehead. "Go tell the President. We can't keep stalling the players. It's time to make a statement."
He was a balding man in his late fifties, his tone grim. Standing before him were several individuals in black suits—government agents, clearly—and none of them looked surprised.
"The President's currently… entertaining them," said one of the agents, a woman who looked far too amused given the situation. She shrugged lightly. "We can't reach him right now."
"Well, whose fault is that?" the man muttered. "Your people are the reason this whole mess started in the first place. We were just a regular dev studio. Then they took interest in our game and hijacked the whole operation."
She smirked. "Consider it a compliment. Not every company gets the attention of them. You should be honored."
"I'd rather have been ignored entirely," the man snapped. "We built this game, and now we can't even access our own backend. The processors are literally in orbit!"
He sighed, slumping into his chair.
Back when the game was finally completed and ready for internal testing, federal agents had stormed in and taken control. Since then, they had rewritten nearly all of the game's core systems—code, rules, even player mechanics.
The company was left with one role: collecting transaction fees. They couldn't patch bugs, couldn't monitor servers, couldn't even track player data.
It was like owning a car they couldn't touch, drive, or even look under the hood of.
They were the developers in name only.
Meanwhile, the President—the very person at the center of the chaos—had just received a confidential report from them.
"You're saying someone's already obtained two Glorious Achievements back-to-back?" he asked, eyes widening with a mixture of disbelief and excitement. "Then… he's already reached a key objective?"
"Indeed, Mr. President," came the reply.
The voice belonged to a humanoid figure who resembled a man, but for the third eye set in the center of his forehead. His tone carried both praise and puzzlement.
"Your human race is truly impressive. However, we're curious—how did this player, Featherlight, know about the hidden passage we placed there?"
The three-eyed being frowned slightly, as if trying to work through the possibilities in his mind. A moment later, he waved them away, deciding not to dwell on it.
"Mr. President, you may now issue a limited hint to your people on Earth," he said. "However, we strongly advise against revealing too much. Additionally, a certain amount of technological leverage can now be accessed. Consider it your reward."
He turned to leave, pausing at the door to add, "We only have ten years. If this generation of gamers doesn't develop far enough, the game will be terminated. And with it, all hidden technological assets will vanish. Good luck, Earthlings."
---
Back on the forums, things were boiling over.
Public outcry was deafening. Threads exploded with speculation, accusations, and wild theories. Forum administrators, overwhelmed, pushed urgent reports up the chain. Their managers did the same, and eventually, everything landed once again in the lap of the balding old executive.
"If I knew what the hell was going on, I'd tell you!" he shouted, his patience finally snapping. "Don't bring me this garbage anymore! Everyone, out!"
He hurled the report in his hand at the poor manager standing before him. The man flinched and fled the room. The black-suited agents nearby simply watched the meltdown with amusement, clearly used to scenes like this.
Then a peculiar ringtone chimed from the old man's desk.
Instantly, the agents' casual demeanor vanished. Their expressions sharpened. One of them stepped forward and ushered the last few staff members out the door.
Once the room was secure, they exchanged brief glances and picked up the call.
"Understood," one of them said after a pause. "We'll release the announcement immediately."
The moment the call ended, the balding old man's expression turned stiff. From the agent's tone, it was clear: the President himself was about to make a public address. And not just in-game—this would go out across all global TV channels and online platforms.
---
Far away from all that chaos, Ryan sat calmly before the familiar figure of Dreadfang Alpha Guderian."
He let out a long breath and slumped down to rest.
This was the fourth time he'd killed the boss. He'd earned 12,000 experience points and finally secured the Stamina Ring he'd been after. The other three rings that dropped were duplicates of gear he already owned, so he left them on the ground.
There was no point. The system had a hidden rule: only one ring of the same name could be equipped at a time.
The grind had left him a little drained. Leaning back on the dungeon floor, Ryan opened the game forum, casually scrolling.
It didn't take long for his name to jump out at him.
Post after post talked about him—Featherlight. His dungeon clear had become a lightning rod for controversy.
A wry smile touched his lips, followed by a soft groan of regret.
"Too high-profile… I completely forgot most players haven't even hit Level 4 yet. I was so focused on snatching up Glorious Achievements."
He let out a quiet sigh, rubbing his temples.
What was done was done. He'd have to find a way to muddy the waters, maybe mislead them a bit or drop some red herrings to throw people off his trail.
But just then, a newly pinned post caught his eye.
"President to Deliver Global Address in 3 Hours!"
Ryan froze.
His eyes darted across the screen, rereading the headline. His expression darkened.
"That… wasn't supposed to happen yet."
He sat up straighter, the weight of the situation suddenly pressing down on him.
"The global address was scheduled for two days from now," he muttered. "That's when Kingdom Forge was going to be announced as the Federation's official game, and all other games would be shut down within six months."
He stared at the post, heart pounding.
"Is this… because of me?"
His hands trembled slightly. His mind raced.
What the hell was really going on with this game?