JustTin bent down to pick up another coconut from the beach and discreetly glanced at where the odd Diseased Seagull roamed.

  Still no sign of the Coconut Seagull. It should spawn soon, though.

  This was his third attempt at clearing the Coconut Seagull elite, and he was determined to succeed this time.

  He avoided looking at his buddy, the one he’d reluctantly called in for backup. With too many players gunning for the same elite, JustTin needed help—relying on someone else made him uneasy. He’d run a couple of dungeons with Louie and promised him a silver to enlist his help. But what if he decided that their short rapport wasn’t worth much to him? What if he’d taken Old Jone’s quest, too, and double-crossed him? It wasn’t too far-fetched. After all, they’d only met online.

  He paused his coconut harvest and stretched his neck and sore shoulders, using the opportunity to assess the competition.

  The first threat was Red Bandana Girl, at least that’s what he called her. Her scarred leather tunic and overflowing belt of pouches gave her a rough, resourceful appearance, like someone who knew how to make do with scraps. He had noticed her exchanging quiet words with Shield Guy, the bulky player standing a few feet away.

  Then there was Rusty Pipe Dude. At first glance, he seemed like a clueless newbie. His oversized beginner’s robe hung awkwardly on his lanky frame, and he stayed mostly to himself, fumbling with the coconuts scattered near his feet. JustTin’s sharp eyes caught the rusty pipe hidden by his robe—a weapon only dropped by the Sea Ghoul. That single item set off alarm bells. No clueless player would be carrying something like that unless they’d earned it through serious effort.

  And then, the newcomer arrived.

  JustTin frowned, glancing at the latest arrival. The guy wore mismatched equipment—nothing that screamed “elite player”—and carried no visible weapon. Instead of taking a strategic position or sizing up the competition, he strolled casually onto the area with seagulls and started picking up coconuts.

  JustTin’s brow furrowed. Nobody in their right mind would park themselves that close to the elite’s spawning zone. You'd be a sitting duck with the elite in front of you and other players behind.

  The newcomer whistled a carefree tune as he collected coconut after coconut, his movements smooth and lazy.

  JustTin cast a quick glance at the others. Red Bandana Girl exchanged a puzzled look with Shield Guy, while Rusty Pipe Dude raised an eyebrow but stayed silent. No one seemed to know what to make of this new player.

  Good, JustTin thought. That means he’s unrelated to them. I think. It could all just be an act. He’d been duped more than once.

  The tension in the air grew as motes of light began swirling near the spawning zone. Every player on the beach stopped moving, their attention snapping to the glowing figure taking shape.

  The Coconut Seagull emerged in all its absurd glory—a large, sturdy bird with a coconut perched snugly on its head, its wings flaring as it let out a piercing screech.

  JustTin’s pulse quickened.

  This was it.

  The past two failures had been bitter lessons in how brutal elite hunts could be. But now, with his buddy’s help and some experience, he might have a chance.

  Of course, that didn’t make it any less of a hassle. Fending off both the elite and the other players wasn’t exactly easy. But the thrill of the hunt, the unpredictability, the challenge—that was what made AstroTerra so much fun.

  JustTin’s plan was simple. Let the others do the heavy lifting, whittling down the Coconut Seagull until its health was low enough. Then, he and his buddy would join the chaos at the last moment, pretending to be desperate and opportunistic. With a bit of coordination, they could even stage a mock fight between themselves to make it seem like they weren’t working together. Then, when the others dropped their guard down, they could turn on them and finish off all competition.

  It was a move he’d seen in a video online—a textbook betrayal that had turned the tide of a wild elite battle. The timing was everything, and if they could pull it off, no one would see it coming.

  JustTin glanced around at his competitors, trying to gauge who would make the first move on the elite. Would it be Red Bandana Girl and Shield Guy coordinating as a team? Or maybe Rusty Pipe Dude?

  He didn’t get to find out.

  There was a flash of light, bright enough to make him wince.

  Did someone just use [Healing Ray]? he thought, confused.

  JustTin whipped his head toward the source of the light, expecting to see the Coconut Seagull mid-charge or players scrambling to attack.

  Instead, he saw… nothing.

  The Coconut Seagull was gone.

  In its place, the newcomer—the guy who had arrived last and casually picked up coconuts—was kneeling by a pile of loot.

  JustTin’s jaw dropped.

  HOW IN THE WORLD DID HE FINISH THE ELITE SO FAST?!

  The Coconut Seagull had 400 HP—double that of a Terminal Seagull. It was built to withstand sustained group attacks, its relentless charges making it a nightmare to pin down. There was no way anyone could have killed it in the blink of an eye. No way.

  He glanced around at the other players, their expressions mirroring his disbelief. No one had even made a move yet, let alone landed a hit. And now the newcomer—the mismatched, weaponless player who’d wandered onto the beach like he didn’t have a care in the world—was kneeling over the loot pile, calmly pocketing items like it was just another day.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Did he kill it with his bare hands? He doesn’t even have a weapon. Was this some kind of prank? Was he a veteran back from the mid-tier zones, trolling noobs for fun?

  No. That didn’t make sense. JustTin quickly dismissed the thought. The game's system had safeguards even if a high-level player returned to the beginner zones. Wild elites wouldn’t drop loot if hunted by someone above the region’s level cap. It was designed to prevent guilds from monopolizing low-tier content.

  But if that wasn’t the explanation, then what was? JustTin couldn’t think of any other possibility. He replayed the events in his head, searching for a clue. A flash of light, a moment of blindness—and then nothing.

  JustTin scanned the faces of the other players, his unease growing with every passing second. Red Bandana Girl looked rattled, her eyes darting between the empty spot where the Coconut Seagull had been and the newcomer now calmly sifting through the loot pile. Shield Guy stood close to her, his grip on his spiked mace tightening. Even Rusty Pipe Dude, who had seemed so confident earlier, stayed silent, watching warily from the edge of the group.

  Nobody moved.

  JustTin’s fingers hovered over the private message window, typing out a quick message to his buddy.

  JustTin: Did you see what he did?

  Louie: No. I only saw the flash of light, and then—Baam. The elite was gone.

  JustTin: 400 HP. Gone in a second. That’s impossible. What level do you think he is?

  Louie: I dunno, but if he’s a high-level vet, the loot shouldn’t drop. It’s against the system rules.

  JustTin: Exactly. So how did he do it?

  He glanced back at the newcomer, who had finished pocketing the last of the loot.

  Finally, Red Bandana Girl broke the silence. “What… what skill was that?” she asked.

  The newcomer didn’t respond. He didn’t even acknowledge her.

  “Hey, you!” JustTin called out, his frustration bubbling over. “What level are you?”

  Still nothing. The man acted as if they weren’t even there, as though the group of players staring him down was no more significant than a patch of grass underfoot.

  “Hey, we’re talking to you!” Shield Guy barked, stepping forward.

  The man’s gaze swept past them like they didn’t exist. Without a word, he began walking back toward the village, his steps deliberate, unhurried, and utterly dismissive.

  JustTin: He’s ignoring us! Who does this guy think he is?

  Louie: Probably someone who can one-shot a 400 HP elite. Hey, you’re still paying me a silver, right?

  JustTin gritted his teeth, his fists clenching at his sides.

  “Hey! We’re not done here!” Rusty Pipe Dude called out, his voice cracking slightly.

  The man didn’t even glance back, leaving the group in stunned silence.

  The tension hung in the air like a storm cloud.

  JustTin: I think he’s bluffing. He’s no veteran.

  Louie: And you’re thinking about following him, aren’t you?

  JustTin: You bet I am. Whatever trick he used, I’m going to figure it out.

  The guy had swagger, sure, but it was the way he exited the scene that really got under JustTin’s skin. It wasn’t panicked or rushed—it was calculated. Too calculated. He broke into a sprint, racing through the stretch of sand that separated the coconut trees from the village. Louie followed.

  JustTin’s boots landed on the creaky wood of the platforms of Stiltwave Village. The mysterious player hadn’t even looked back, his pace casual as he strolled through the buildings.

  “Why would a vet ever come to this village?” Louie said, panting.

  JustTin didn’t answer, his focus locked on the figure ahead. Louie was right. It didn’t make sense. If this guy was a veteran, why would he visit a beginner hub? Why would he even be interested in the loot of such a weak elite?

  The mysterious player rounded a corner ahead of them, disappearing behind one of the shacks.

  JustTin rounded the corner of the building, his boots skidding slightly on the wooden walkway. He came to an abrupt halt as he nearly collided with Rusty Pipe Dude, who had emerged from the opposite side.

  “You were chasing him too,” JustTin said, his voice flat, more of a statement than a question.

  Rusty Pipe Dude straightened, his expression unreadable. “Yeah. Lost him.” His sharp eyes scanned the alley, lingering on the shadows beneath the stilted buildings. He kicked a loose plank on the walkway. “How does someone just vanish like that? There’s no stealth skill that good at this level.”

  Louie leaned against a post, catching his breath. “What if we work together? It’s not like any of us are going to find him alone.”

  Rusty Pipe Dude folded his arms, raising an eyebrow. “You’re suggesting an alliance?”

  “Why not?” JustTin said, shrugging. “We’re all after the same thing. He duped us all, so let’s find him together.”

  Rusty Pipe Dude tilted his head, considering. Finally, he gave a small nod. “Sure. Add me to your party.

  A notification pinged in JustTin’s interface.

  You’ve added HercMerc to your party.

  HercMerc’s smirk didn’t reach his eyes. “Just so we’re clear—this isn’t permanent. Once we find him, I’m calling the shots.”

  “Yeah, sure,” JustTin replied, his tone neutral. “Alright. Let’s start by splitting up and checking the perimeter. If he’s hiding somewhere nearby, we’ll flush him out.”

  Louie glanced toward the edge of the village. “He’s gotta be close. There’s no way he could’ve gone far without us seeing.”

  The three of them moved as a unit, spreading out to cover more ground. They checked under the stilted buildings, peered into the narrow alleys, and scanned the shoreline for any sign of the mysterious player.

  But there was nothing.

  JustTin’s frustration bubbled over as they regrouped near the center of the village. He slammed his fist against a wooden support beam.

  “He played us!” JustTin snapped, his frustration evident. “We’ve been duped. He’s not a vet—but he sure made us think he is.”

  HercMerc leaned casually against a post, his expression calm, though his tone held a trace of irritation. “Yeah, I don’t think he’s a veteran either. No real vet would waste time on a low-level elite or bother with this backwater village.”

  “Not to mention the loot drop,” JustTin added, the memory still gnawing at him.

  HercMerc’s eyes glinted, a hint of greed slipping through. “What I want to know is—what skill was that? He one-shot an elite.”

  JustTin swallowed hard. The thought had crossed his mind too. If he could figure out how to learn that skill, he could rise to a whole new level of power.

  Louie rubbed the back of his neck, a furrow deepening across his brow. “So… what do we do now?”

  “We keep our eyes open,” JustTin said, his voice firm with determination. “If we find him again—and we will—we’ll make sure to learn his secrets.”

  Amazon.