The enchanted War Hammer crashed down, sending a [Life Sage] clutching a bag of materials flying.
His back slammed into the wall of the passageway, and the bag slipped from his grasp. Before the monster materials inside—gathered over three days by more than a dozen impoverished players—could hit the ground, two players from the Guild in fine armor snatched them away.
“You quit the Guild and still dare sell goods on our turf?”
The leading [Berserk Behemoth] planted his foot on the [Life Sage]'s chest, his face full of mockery. "You can take your things with you if you want. Sign a new contract. From now on, hand over seventy percent of your daily earnings."
More than thirty gold farmers stood in the passageway, preparing to sell their goods in the public trading area. Some had already left the guild, while others still did not dare press the quit button.
Their armor was worn beyond recognition, and some were still using weapons fashioned from monster bones. Across from them stood more than forty Guild elites, all at least Level 27, with no shortage of potions or enchanted weapons.
In the past, these impoverished players would lower their heads and keep working after nothing more than a glare from a supervisor.
Even today, some instinctively took half a step back.
With their materials stolen, several days' worth of rent, medicine, and gaming pod electricity costs would be gone. But if they fought, dying would cost them experience and Bio-Energy as well. None of them could afford it.
Seeing their cowardice, the leading [Berserk Behemoth] laughed even more wantonly. He raised his War Hammer, preparing to smash the man beneath his foot again.
[Muhammad] had just finished another round of grinding and was about to take the same route to the public