As Deathstroke was in the graveyard of Starlight Town, a storm of emotions churned within him—rage, humiliation, and disbelief. His clenched fists trembled as he whispered to himself, "How could he humiliate me like this?" It wasn't just the defeat that stung, but the complete dismantling of his pride. For years, he had been a respected member of the Dominators, an upper-class guild known for its power and influence. In the world of **Endless**, the game before **New Haven**, he wasn't the strongest, but his status as a Dominator had ensured he was never looked down upon.
But now, here in New Haven, everything was different. The rules had changed, and for the first time in years, Deathstroke felt weak.
As he respawned in the town, his mind raced. The sting of defeat still fresh, he opened his friend list and immediately called Doomking. His heart pounded as he waited for the call to connect.
When Doomking's deep, irritated voice came through, it sent a chill down Deathstroke's spine. "What do you want? I'm busy," Doomking barked.
Deathstroke hesitated for a moment, his confidence faltering. Doomking wasn't just another guild member; he was the heir to a massive corporation in the real world, a man with power both in-game and out. Known for his short temper and ruthless nature, Doomking had a reputation for crushing anything—or anyone—that stood in his way. Very few dared to challenge him, and even fewer could escape the consequences.
"My squad... we were annihilated in Starlight Town by an unknown thief," Deathstroke stammered.
Doomking's response was immediate and harsh. "How could a mere thief wipe out your entire squad? Are you joking?" His words were laced with disdain, making Deathstroke wince.
Desperate to explain, Deathstroke hurriedly added, "He's incredibly strong. He one-shotted our healer with a single sword slash. And... he mentioned knowing you."
There was a moment of silence on the other end, followed by a dangerous tone in Doomking's voice. "He killed your healer with one stroke? Interesting..."
"He also sent me a message," Deathstroke continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "He said, 'Tell Doomking I'm coming for him.'"
Doomking's laughter echoed through the call, cold and unfeeling. "Tell our players in Starlight Town to avoid him and level up in groups. Put a bounty on his head—20 silver coins. We'll deal with him in the main city when we reach level 10."
Deathstroke felt a flicker of excitement despite his lingering fear. In **New Haven**, reaching level 10 meant leaving the safety of the towns and venturing into the vast main cities. "Understood, sir," he replied quickly, but Doomking had already ended the call.
Meanwhile, deep within a dense forest, Manho and Luke were on the move, hunting monsters to level up. The forest was alive with the sounds of rustling leaves and distant roars, yet the two moved with purpose and precision. Every kill brought them closer to their goals. Suddenly, a loud chime echoed in their ears, followed by a system-wide announcement:
### **System Announcement**
**Congratulations to [Thousandswords]!** Successfully reached Level 10, unlocking all dungeons in the game!
The message appeared only once, but its impact was immediate. Manho's eyes narrowed as he read the name—Thousandswords. Memories of his past life flooded back. Thousandswords, the best swordsman in the game, wielding a legendary broken sword that struck fear into the hearts of his enemies. He was also part of a hegemonic guild that ruled the game with an iron fist.
'So, all the tier 6 players started playing from day one,' Manho thought bitterly. In his previous life, Manho had started playing **New Haven** a year late, always struggling to catch up with the top players. And now, despite his advantage of knowledge, he had fallen behind once more after blacking out for 24 hours when he first acquired his legacy weapon.
Luke, oblivious to Manho's inner turmoil, marveled at the announcement. "Wow, that's impressive. I'm barely level 3, and he's already level 10. He's in an entirely different league..."
Manho remained silent, the weight of his past life's failures pressing down on him. But this time, he vowed, things would be different.
As they continued their journey through the forest, Luke eventually reached level 6. When Manho noticed, he turned to him and said, "Let's head to the nearest level 10 dungeon."
Luke hesitated, genuine concern in his voice. "Are you sure? I might slow you down... I'm not that good at the game."
Manho's lips curled into a small, confident smile. "Don't worry. No one can hinder me."
Luke chuckled, thinking it was just bravado. 'Every good player has an ego,' he thought. But Manho wasn't joking. In his previous life, he had risen to the rank of **Assassin Lord**,he wasn't the strongest back then but he had some power and now in the early parts of the game he was invincible only few plyers can fight him .
Their journey led them to a vast open field, the entrance to the Fog Swamp dungeon looming before them. The massive gate was etched with intricate carvings, its darkened stone radiating an ominous aura. Manho paused for a moment, taking in the sight with a sense of nostalgia. This dungeon had been one of his first dungeon he ever tried . He knew every trap, every monster spawn point.
But the moment of quiet reflection didn't last long. The field in front of the dungeon was bustling with activity. Dozens of players gathered, their chatter filling the air as they formed parties and prepared for the challenge ahead. Most were around level 5 or 6, with a few stronger ones scattered among them. Manho's keen eyes scanned the crowd, noting that none appeared to be above level 8. Satisfied, he strode forward with confidence, stopping just before the dungeon gate.
With a commanding voice, he called out, "We need two healers and a mage. Levels don't matter."
His words drew immediate laughter from the surrounding players. To them, his demand seemed absurd. How could someone expect to survive a level 10 dungeon without caring about the levels of his teammates?
In a distant corner of the crowd, a group of players heard Manho's call. One of them, a young mage named Creed, listened intently. Creed had a striking appearance—short, neatly trimmed gray hair that contrasted with his innocent, almost naïve features. His wide, clear eyes held a hint of curiosity and kindness, but behind that gentleness was a deep determination.
Despite being only level 4, Creed was intrigued by Manho's confidence. His companions, however, were less enthusiastic. One of them, a player with a mocking tone, said, "Creed, don't even think about it. You're only level 4. You'll just drag that guy down like you are dragging us right now."
Creed's smile faltered, but he didn't argue. Instead, he turned away from his group and began walking toward Manho. Seeing this, one of his companions, a girl named Sweetpumbkin, couldn't stay silent. She had an average build and appearance, her freckled cheeks giving her a down-to-earth charm. But despite her unassuming looks, she had a strong sense of justice.
"How can you treat him like that? He's your friend!" she scolded the others before hurrying after Creed. As she caught up to him, she called out, "Creed, wait!"
Ignoring the taunts from their former group, Creed and Sweetpumbkin approached Manho. Sweetpumbkin, a level 6 cleric, introduced herself and Creed to Manho. "I'm Sweetpumbkin, a level 6 cleric, and this is Creed, a level 4 mage."
Manho turned to look at the two, his sharp gaze lingering on Creed. When he heard the young man's name, a flicker of recognition crossed his mind. In his previous life, Creed had risen to tier 6, earning the title **The Disaster** for his devastating magical prowess. He was a one-man army, feared by all for his ability to turn the tide of battle single-handedly.
'I never knew he struggled in the early parts of the game,' Manho thought with a mix of surprise and respect. But then again, the early game was often the hardest for those destined for greatness.
"Don't worry about your levels," Manho said with a reassuring smile. "I'll take care of everything."
Sweetpumbkin and Creed both felt a sense of relief at his words. Moments later, they received a party invitation from **Prince of Nothing**, and they accepted without hesitation. Luke, ever the cheerful one, introduced himself with a broad grin. "My name's Brightsmile. Nice to meet you!"
Sweetpumbkin smiled back. "Nice to meet you too," she replied, then glanced at Creed, who whispered something softly.
"He's a bit shy around new people," Sweetpumbkin explained with a gentle smile.
Luke nodded understandingly. "No problem at all."
Manho, however, remained focused. "We need one more healer, and then we can challenge the dungeon."
They waited a short while before another player, a level 5 healer named Bluesmoke, joined their party. After brief introductions, They approached the gate and received a system notification:
**System:** Please choose the difficulty you wish to challenge the dungeon in:
Normal / Savage / Abyssal
Without hesitation, Manho selected Abyssal. The others started panicking, but manho, still smiling, remained unfazed.