Two slaps. That was all it took to silence the entire bar.

The two fallen angels, one male and one female, had been treated with perfect equality. Ethan had not favored one over the other, nor had he held back out of politeness. He flexed his fingers afterward and shook out his hand as if he had just finished a warmup exercise.

"Damn. Your faces are hard," he said casually. "If I didn’t have Rae to think about, I’d slap you a few more times just for practice."

He gave them another glance, but inwardly he was genuinely impressed.

He had used roughly half his strength for those strikes. In his current mindset, hesitation no longer existed. He did not weigh consequences or debate morality the way he once had. If something felt wrong, he acted. Simple as that.

And these two had immediately given him a bad feeling. That instinct alone had nearly made him slap them to death on the spot.

Yet they had endured.

It felt less like hitting flesh and more like striking iron pillars. Since the first slap had not killed them, Ethan had deliberately avoided increasing his strength for the second. There had been no need.

Inside, however, the two fallen angels were shaking.

When the first slap landed, they believed they had simply been caught off guard. Rage had surged through them instantly. But during the second strike, they had been fully prepared. Both had raised their energy to its peak, every defensive instinct activated.

And still, Ethan’s hand came down.

They had not even seen the movement clearly, much less dodged it. The gathered energy around their bodies shattered instantly on contact, collapsing like fragile glass. Now their internal power ran wild and disordered, leaving them unable to summon even a fraction of their strength.

That realization forced them into silence; this man was monstrous.

He had not even used a real attack. Just humiliating slaps, delivered casually, had rendered them completely helpless. They understood with terrifying clarity that if he had applied even slightly more force, their heads would have burst apart.

Around them, whispers spread through the bar. Shocked murmurs, low gasps, nervous laughter that died quickly.

Everyone present understood how durable fallen angels were. Everyone except Ethan.

Angels possessed innate physiques far beyond ordinary beings, bodies blessed from birth and strengthened over centuries. The older they became, the tougher their physical forms grew. Unfortunately, most angels obsessed over magic and ranged combat instead of developing that natural advantage.

Every angel squad Ethan had encountered before had fought like spellcasters, sword wielders relying on techniques rather than raw physicality. That experience had convinced him all these bird people specialized in casting.

The two standing before him were incredibly lucky.

If Ethan had known just how resilient angel bodies truly were, he would not have restrained himself at all. His original intention had been to pop their heads like balloons.

Had the fallen angels known what thoughts had crossed his mind, they might have collapsed on the spot.

Seeing that no one dared interrupt, Ethan turned toward Rae.

"This is where you brought me? The fallen angel headquarters?"

His soul sense had already swept through the building from top to bottom, including the basement. Nothing unusual. Just a bar, slightly worn but otherwise ordinary.

Rae hesitated, still shaken. She glanced nervously at her two swollen faced companions before answering.

"Yes... but this isn’t the real headquarters. They need to guide us there."

"Guide us?" Ethan frowned. "What are they, tour guides?"

Apparently, the two angels still had a purpose.

What he still did not understand was why Rae had dragged him here in the first place.

"So why are we going there?" he asked.

Rae swallowed. "Because... the higher ups issued a secret directive. We’re supposed to find the Druid God in Ethereal."

She stared directly at him as she said it.

Ethan blinked. "They’re looking for me? Why?"

"I don’t know," Rae admitted quietly, her voice shrinking under his gaze.

"You don’t know, and you brought me anyway?" Ethan’s expression darkened. "What if they want me dead? Were you hoping someone else would solve your problem for you?"

The guilty look in her eyes answered the question before she could speak.

Before the tension could grow worse, the male fallen angel suddenly spoke. His voice sounded strange through his swollen cheeks.

"You’re... the Druid God? From Ethereal?"

Ethan turned toward him, sensing something different in his tone. Not hostility, excitement.

"You’re really the boss?" the angel continued, stepping forward eagerly. "I’ve seen you in game. I’m ThreeShot. I’m part of Renegade Alliance too!"

"ThreeShot?" Ethan repeated, searching his memory. The name stirred recognition.

"Yeah! That’s me. Back in the starter zone, when you crossed regions and attacked Unity Hall, I was there!"

Recognition clicked into place.

"Oh. I remember now," Ethan said slowly. "You were Zachary’s loyal dog."

ThreeShot froze, then blinked in confusion rather than anger.

"Zachary?" he asked.

"The guy who ran Unity Hall," Ethan explained. "Now he controls the Steele Consortium, last I heard."

It was oddly surreal running into someone from his past life here, and discovering he was an angel of all things. After the collapse of Unity Hall, Ethan had stopped paying attention. Apparently ThreeShot had left the guild back then and later joined Renegade Alliance.

"Boss, why would you call me his dog?" ThreeShot asked earnestly. "I cut ties with him right after leaving the starter zone. I’m loyal to Renegade Alliance now. My squad has completed many missions for the guild. Fallen angels value loyalty and honor above everything. I would never harm the guild."

He sounded so sincere that Ethan felt faintly awkward.

"Forget it," Ethan said with a shrug. "I misspoke."

"Oh." ThreeShot accepted the correction instantly, completely satisfied.

"Boss..." The female fallen angel spoke next, her swollen face making the word sound strange. Yet she said it without hesitation.

Ethan stared at her, momentarily speechless. He had just slapped both of them across the room, and now they were calling him boss?

"Boss... Boss..."

Chairs scraped across the floor. Nearly half the bar stood up at once.

Ethan looked around in disbelief. Vampires, werewolves, and other strange beings all staring at him with recognition and respect.

"What the hell? All of you...?"

They were in Italy. His guild operated in the Northern Frontier Region of Dragonspire; which was within the US. The international borders in Ethereal had not even opened yet. Technically, none of these people should have been able to join Renegade Alliance.

ThreeShot quickly stepped forward, noticing Ethan’s confusion.

"Boss, it’s like this. I was stationed in the US on a mission when I first started playing Ethereal. When I returned home, most of them here hadn’t even begun playing yet. Energy users usually joined late, you know how it is. Same situation everywhere. When the Energy Pool in the Northern Frontier Region unsealed, many of us went there to create our characters."

"I see..." Ethan nodded as memories aligned.

That explanation made sense.

Most energy users originally believed Ethereal would interfere with the real world. Many entered long periods of hibernation lasting months or even years, completely out of sync with ordinary schedules. Giving up their plans to play a game had seemed foolish at first.

Only after the Northern Frontier Region’s Energy Pool awakened did large numbers of them finally join.

That was also the reason players from the Northern Frontier Region were noticeably stronger than those from other theaters. Mutants and energy users possessed superior reflexes, greater mental control, and combat instincts sharpened by real world power. Their abilities also gave them a much higher chance of obtaining hidden classes.

Even though the Northern Frontier Region had fewer players than the other three theaters combined, its overall quality far surpassed them. Numerous conflicts had proven it. Despite overwhelming numbers, the three theater alliance had never gained a true advantage.

The region appeared locked in a stalemate, yet independent players and neutral groups had gradually begun siding with Renegade Alliance. Over time, people realized the guild genuinely supported its members. Resources were shared. Profits circulated. Advancement opportunities were real.

Of course, generosity was relative when dealing with a massive organization like Renegade Alliance. Even a small share of guild benefits could make an individual wealthy overnight.

Meanwhile, Blade Syndicate, backed by the Steele Consortium, had revealed its true nature. Early promises of rewards and lavish benefits had faded into stinginess and broken agreements. Players were not blind. After two years, reputations had settled firmly.

The only lingering complaint was Renegade Alliance’s blockade of the Northern Frontier Region exit, preventing outsiders from entering and even restricting some internal movement. No one fully understood Ethan’s reasoning there, and rumors circulated constantly. Without that single issue, the guild’s reputation might have been untouchable.

"Boss, since you’re here," the female fallen angel said again, interrupting Ethan’s thoughts, "we need to take you to see the King."

Ethan blinked. "See the King... what?"

Her accent was heavy, the pronunciation slightly slurred through swollen lips. Ethan stared at her, genuinely unsure whether he had misheard or whether things were about to become far more complicated than he expected.