The second raid of the day began, and as expected, the moment Xavier's name flashed on the participant list, the whole raid lobby lost its mind.
"Yo, that's him! That's the guy from the last raid!"
"Bro pulled fourteen thousand tickets—how the fuck?"
"I heard he made 700k just selling leftovers."
"Look at that gear. That's 30… no… 37 mythics!"
"He's literally walking loot."
Xavier didn't react. He just walked ahead, letting the heavy glow of all 37 mythic items radiate around him like some divine boss that accidentally queued with the players.
At the edge of the platform, Lucas and Ethan were already there. Their guild—Crimson Vow—stood tall with their flashy red-and-gold cloaks, matching weapons, organized rows. The usual try-hard flex.
But not a single eye was on them today.
Every gaze drifted to the guy walking alone.
The guy glowing more than their entire party put together.
Lucas's eye twitched.
Ethan was biting his lip.
They knew.
