Announcing the official guild recruitment on a platform like this was a move only the organizations of considerable background had the gall to pull.

Not only did this kind of ploy open the guild to insane amounts of positive publicity, but it also invited the negative along with it.

But that wasn’t why Daedric and Soulless directed malice, contempt, and outrage toward Kieran. Deep down, they understood their presence wasn’t as compelling as his.

Their feats didn’t sway the masses like their competitor’s exhilarating accomplishments did.

Thus, the atmosphere on the set grew tense, the outrage palpable.

“He has no right to pull a stunt like that! He should be kicked off the set right this instant!”

Soulless seethed and failed to control his riled-up emotions, erupting in a fury while hatefully pointing his finger at Kieran. The thoughts of his earlier embarrassment surged to the forefront of his mind, feeding his irrational outburst on live television.

Like a virus with a devastating infection rate, the madness spread from Soulless to Daedric.

“This guy thinks he’s better than us. All because he somehow got his hands on the token required to make a guild! I won’t stand for this. How about you get your ass up!”

On standby, Jezabelle froze as she watched the events unfold before her eyes. She was stricken because this situation did not adhere to the vast array of questions she reviewed.

Though it was a blunder and a misstep on her behalf, she should have accounted for this possibility.

Then again, how would she know that Kieran would openly begin recruitment, an admitted slap in the face to other organizations with firmer foundations but the inability to officiate a guild?

“Now, now. There is no reason to get physical. Let’s remain cordial and professional. We have images to uphold,” Jezabelle suggested.

She attempted to placate the raging testosterone flooding the room.

To no avail, of course.

“Screw our images! We’re not diplomats; we’re not into politics. There’s no poll or vote of the masses that we need. We give these people shows. So I say we damn right better give them a good show,” Daedric snarled, ending his words with an indignant scoff.

It didn’t take much to second that motion.

Soulless agreed.

“I concur. This guy has been awarded too much freedom.” .

Listening to them voice their outrage, Kieran finally reacted, revealing a mockery-laden scowl.

“Ah, yes. The two buffoons. You know, that is exactly what you’re acting like. Two monkeys. What? Oh, did your bananas get taken away?”

“Oh! Screw you!”

In preparation for what was to come, Kieran stood from his chair, rolled up his sleeves, and cracked his neck.

“You two must have assumed my abilities only extend to Zenith Online. Why don’t you act on that assumption if that’s the case? As you said, we’re here to give the viewers a good show.”

A successful taunt.

Because Daedric and Soulless simultaneously rushed forward, the former stomping the heavy with mountainous pressure and the latter moving with eerie, spectral finesse.

Any skilled or insightful viewer would have realized that each of them exhibited unique traits of their class.

A flicker of dark, crimson energy carrying a strange presence materialized around Kieran’s arm, empowering his hand for a strike, but he had to be careful.

Kieran’s intuition alerted him of danger approaching him from his right side, but he’d be left vulnerable to Daedric’s frightening charge if he spared the feeling too much attention.

Daedric was, after all, a titan in human flesh.

Accepting that blow would be like standing before a barreling freight train and bracing for impact. Only someone with a malfunctioning brain would welcome that challenge.

‘No matter how much training I’ve endured, everyone excels differently. And while I admit Daedric is more than exceptional regarding the generation of force…’

“I have the experience,” Kieran spoke aloud.

Though this was a two-on-one, it was not a dire situation.

There was no preexisting teamwork between the two, so there was no synergy in their rhythm.

Plus, there was something these two overlooked.

Kieran was not alone.

“You humongous oaf, you messed the wrong one!” Nemean yelled.

“Get him. Twist his dick, goddammit!” Bastion added enthusiastically, no less.

The next moment, Daedric’s advance slowed thanks to Nemean and Bastion holding his body.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t easy.

“I swear to the Gods above, you better get your hands off me before you two end up like broken glass dolls, shattered and recuperating in a hospital,” Daedric howled, attempting to pry them off his body.

He could feel their strength was inferior to his own, but Nemean and Bastion were reckless. Their behavior proved the risk of injury didn’t scare them.

“Are these guys idiots? Have you brainwashed them? What have you done to them for them to defend you like zealots?”

Kieran snickered, amused by the baffled expression on Daedric’s face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Unfortunately, you made a mistake. Aiming for the top isn’t always the best course of action. You see, they’re my brothers that started at the bottom with me. Our bonds started when we had nothing.”

With Daedric subdued for the moment, Kieran turned abruptly, meeting Soulless’ vicious kick with a punch of his own. But roughly two seconds after his reaction, another presence appeared behind with specter-like agility, his movement light and barely noticeable, like a faint breeze in the night.

“Even though we’re individually capable, we don’t fight fair. You make an attempt on one of us; it’s like you’re coming for all of our necks. And that is not something I can accept,” Altair remarked.

Mere seconds had elapsed throughout this interaction, but Kieran’s team showed exceptional promise and ample progress.

But one person was overlooked—Wendell Spectre.

A lengthy exhale strangely entered everyone’s ears.

Wendell was the only person that remained in their seat, but his voice could be heard like he spoke beside their ears.

“How did a civil event become so uncivil? Would you all do me a favor and simmer down before I lose my patience? Are you guys animals, children, or actual adults?”

The atmosphere grew heavy while Wendell spoke. His presence was simultaneously felt everywhere. This feeling gave the impression he could be anywhere in an instant and different from the rest, Kieran suspected it to be true.

One thing became clear as day in his eyes—Wendell Specter was somewhere higher in the Inhuman Threshold than he could determine.

Still, Kieran wasn’t one to back down from a fight.

So while Daedric and Soulless second-guessed their action, Kieran signaled his members to follow through.

“Every action has a consequence,” Kieran reminded.

He locked gazes with Wendell, deliberately knocking aside Soulless’ leg to kick him in the ribs. Altair similarly followed up, kicking him in the temple with enough force to shatter bricks or maybe even dent steel.

For a second, Soulless crumbled under his own weight, unconscious and incapable of triggering the strange energy a select few players were beginning to exude.

Disappointed, Wendell sighed ruefully, a pang of regret saturating his posture. Not for having come here but for having to act. For when he did, the results were generally… gruesome.

“Remember your words. Every action has its consequences.”

Having reminded Kieran of his comment, Wendell placed his glasses on the nearby armrest, closed his eyes, and combed his fingers through his hair. When he reopened his eyes, however, he was a different person altogether.

When he moved, it was before Kieran registered the action had taken place. And when Wendell appeared before him, he acted with the precision, killing instinct and predatory sense of a viper.

Kieran attempted to counter the incoming attack, but he could feel his knuckles go numb following the impact. Some of his bones even fractured due to this.

‘That striking force…’

It was abnormal. Based on how fast Wendell moved and his average stature, there was a discrepancy in the force output.

It was far too outrageous, downright disgusting!

But, Kieran had suffered worse.

His earlier transformations have forged his mind into a hardened diamond capable of enduring immense, unfathomable, unprecedented pressure and adversity.

Though the subsequent exchanges resulted in a loss each time, Kieran’s expression didn’t change, creating the false image that they were equally matched.

However, Wendell felt respect for an individual with this much pain tolerance.

Even with his knuckles dripping blood and a condensed spattering of bruises slowly appearing on his torso and limbs, Kieran initiated more blows.

The crowd—and Wendell Specter—received a message from his tenacious display.

Even if outmatched, the Guild Master of Sanguis Requiem would not cower. Of course, there were other advantages at play that Kieran took advantage of.

For example, how could someone execute a murder live on stage and get away with it? There were too many enthralled eyes.

Kieran knew it, Wendell knew it, and Jezabelle knew it. At best, this exchange was a vain display of might.

Eventually, Wendell waved his hand, picked up his glasses and looked at Soulless. “We’ll be leaving. I’d rather avoid the headache of having him wake up only to resume his childish tantrum.”