Infinite Range: The Sniper Mage-Chapter 512: This Is My Area of Expertise—Let Me Handle It!

A flood of private messages slammed into Orson’s inbox like a tidal wave, nearly causing his chat interface to crash.

"Offering 160,000 gold for the Forbidden-tier Golden Longbow! Ready to trade now!"

"Hold the Berserker’s Warcry warrior set for me—110,000 gold, instant payment."

"How much for the pair of Level 70 legendary rings?"

Orson gave a slight shake of his head. Sure, the whales were circling, but none of them had the guts to buy his shop plots—not in this climate.

Even with tiered discounts—70% off for small and medium shops, prices down to 800k–1.5 million gold—no one dared to commit. The only ones showing interest were lowballers trying to snag a deal while Orson was "desperate," and they got ignored flat-out.

People weren’t stupid. Everyone knew the risk: Forever City might not survive. Nobody wanted to go all-in while the empire’s retaliation loomed.

Regional Megaphone

Demon Emperor: "Slaughter Guild is buying one large commercial plot—three million gold."

"WHAT?! Three mil for a shop?! Has he lost it?"

"That’s like throwing money into a black hole!"

The chat exploded.

Everyone knew Slaughter Guild was filthy rich, but they didn’t expect this kind of boldness. Still, respect where it was due—this move shut everyone up.

A private message from Blank popped up:

"Gimme that dagger. The Thief Saint’s Dagger of Greed. Now."

Orson almost laughed out loud. She’d been obsessed with that blade for weeks.

"Aren’t you afraid Madman’s gonna throw a fit?"

He messaged Madman right after, just to stir the pot.

Madman blew up immediately:

"YOU TRAITOR! That’s my goddamn Artifact! You’re a monster!"

Blank followed up calmly:

"Tell him he has a fair shot at reclaiming it. I’ll be waiting in the courtyard downstairs."

Orson grinned and forwarded the message.

Madman:

"Cough... a gentleman doesn’t fight women. Tell her to do as she pleases. I’m above petty grudges."

Blank:

"Payment sent. Blade, please. Afterward, I’ll pay him a personal visit."

Orson casually mailed the dagger and promptly received three million gold.

A few seconds later, Orson heard a door slam from the real-world side of his VR pod.

He didn’t need to guess. He could already picture Blank dragging Madman out of his capsule for a real-life beatdown.

Regional Megaphone

ShatteredCrown: "C’mon, I’m just here to support. What, Slaughter Guild only buys one? That’s weak."

ShatteredCrown: "Make it two. One for a tavern, one just to look pretty."

Orson chuckled. The kid really had money to burn.

Without hesitation, 600,000 gold hit his account.

He shot him a private message:

"Hey, don’t go overboard. You’ll need gold for skill upgrades later."

He even sent back 200,000 gold, along with some rare mage gear he wasn’t using—a friendship discount for allies.

ShatteredCrown replied instantly:

"Awww, Master treats me so well!"

Other top-tier allies jumped in too—Empress of the Moon, Drunken Dream—each buying large plots in prime locations. The gold started piling up.

Seeing that the whales had made moves, smaller guild leaders and mid-tier spenders started scrambling.

Even though the profits were lower than Orson had hoped, the result wasn’t bad:

8 small shops sold

3 medium shops sold

Total profit: 26 million gold

He quickly shut down the sales before demand flattened. Long-term, it wouldn’t be smart to keep selling.

Sure, 26 million sounded huge, but in the bigger picture? This was half selling, half charity.

Only about 200 shops were available to players in Forever City, and just half of those had ideal locations. The rest would have to be sold at a discount.

For now, most investors were gambling—hoping to buy low and sell high if Forever City stabilized.

The smart play? Pre-sell to raise funds, and then lock down the remaining shops for guild use.

Orson didn’t know jack about real estate speculation, but he knew people.

Once Forever City opened to the public, sitting right next to the starter zone, it would become a player magnet.

And once people saw others raking in gold with their shops?

FOMO would kick in hard.

And that’s when Orson would unleash round two: limited-time only, premium shop sales.

By then? He’d be swimming in gold.

He wired 20 million gold directly to Nightshade with only one message:

"Go nuts. Build it all—tanks, airships, mechs. Show these NPCs what real firepower looks like."

Absolute firepower is the only truth on the battlefield.

Sheer violence is the antidote to divine lies.

As he mulled over that thought, Celestial Fortress materialized overhead.

Nadora (The Spirit Princess): "The God-Emperor’s Spear of War?!"

Katherine (Flame Elf Princess) backed away, eyes wide: "What do you plan to do to us, you heretic? The Empire won’t forgive this! And neither will I!"

Bionna (Dwarf Princess) screeched: "Noooo! My heart and body belong to the Emperor alone!"

Orson looked at her thick stubble and felt a cold sweat trickle down his spine.

She was the most voted imperial concubine?! US server is full of degenerates... but maybe someone’s into this look?

He opened guild chat.

"Dancing Giant Boobs, you found them, right?"

DGB replied:

"Of course~ These are A-list idols. If I told you who they really were, you’d probably faint."

Iron Cavalry: "I can handle it!"

Old Yin: "Same! I’m down!"

A flash of light—Teleport Beam activated.

A wave of Godslayer players appeared.

Madman stormed up, clutching Orson’s robe:

"You ruined me! Letting that thug live in my villa was a disaster!"

He rubbed his panda eye bitterly. His in-game character was fine, but his real body had taken the hit.

Blank had challenged him to an IRL spar, and he had responded with every self-defense move he knew.

She tripped him. He smashed his face on a desk. Boom—black eye.

"Just up ahead," Dancing Giant Boobs said with a smile as four stunning avatars approached.

Perfect faces, flowing hair, impossibly smooth animation.

They laughed and waved like queens on tour—idols, obviously modeled by pros.

"AWOOOOOO!"

"NEW FRIENDS! WELCOME TO GODSLAYER FAMILY!"

"I’ll personally teach you how to mine, sweetheart!"

Godslayer’s battle-hardened wolves let out an avalanche of howls.

Even hardened PvPers were drooling over these real-life goddess-level characters.

Madman scoffed.

"Please. Just a pretty face. No real woman beats a classic NPC beauty."

Then he turned and saw Nadora.

He dropped into a kneel:

"My Princess Nadora, your knight is at your service!"

Nadora didn’t even blink.

"Disgusting rogue."

Madman froze, blinked.

Then Bradley pointed out someone else.

"Hey, that super-loli’s more your type, right?"

Bionna batted her lashes:

"Help me escape this den of monsters, and my heart might just be yours~"

Madman went stiff like a board. Eyes forward. Pretended not to hear.

Orson nearly laughed himself off the wall.

With a flick of his wrist, twenty-plus servant contracts appeared before the gathered imperial concubines.

"What... what do you want from us?"

Nadora’s face turned pale.

All the royal ladies looked at him like he was the literal devil.

But Orson just smiled.

"First off, welcome to your new home.

Second... you’ll be going through mandatory training."

"TRAINING?!"

The concubines looked confused.

But the wolves?

They went feral.

"LET’S GOOOOO!"

Iron Cavalry charged ahead with his shield, clearing the way.

"Training? That’s my specialty. Let me do it!"

Madman, with agility stat maxed, leapt off his head:

"BACK OFF! I’m the pro here! If I don’t get to lead training, I QUIT THE GUILD!"