Of course, the dashing silver-haired warrior was none other than Bradley himself. Orson could barely keep a straight face at how absurdly good-looking he had made his character. If Bradley hadn't ended up as a pro in grinding games, he could've made a fortune just creating avatars for people online. With looks like that, he'd be rich by now.
Seeing Bradley's over-the-top posturing, Orson held back a cringe and, red-faced, raised his staff skyward. "I aim my sword north to the Red-Light District and my heart southward to the biggest strip club in town!"
Bradley strode up with a grin, bumping fists with Orson. A flurry of overly elaborate gestures followed, like a secret handshake between two kids who watched one too many action movies. The players nearby just stared, utterly dumbfounded.
"Aw, yeah, my man!" Bradley cheered, jumping up for a chest bump.
"Next time, we keep the meet-up subtle," Orson muttered, his face flushed with embarrassment. This American-style boyhood ritual was too much even for him. Reluctantly, he accepted the team invite Bradley sent.
Bradley turned toward the massive albino snake boss watching them from its perch on the bridge and declared, "Alright, I'll tank it. You just blow it to pieces."
Orson glanced at Bradley's stats—level 14, with 2150 HP and equipped in a decent blue gear set. His stats were impressive for a non-whale player. Though Bradley hadn't been a pro gamer before, his years with Orson had honed his skill far beyond that of a casual player.
"No need to trouble yourself. This little boss will go down in a few hits anyway," Orson said. "Besides, I've got to escort this NPC mage to her guild in the city."
Bradley raised an eyebrow, just now noticing Hazel hiding behind Orson. His eyes lit up. "Hold up, why is my waifu with you? Hand her over!"
Orson sighed. "You've got a death wish, Bradley. If your real-life waifu catches you simping for an NPC, she'll have your skin."
"Tch, she'd never dare disrespect the head of the household," Bradley sneered, shrugging it off. Orson just rolled his eyes, amused. Bradley's exaggerated bravado hadn't changed one bit.
"Two players taking on the White Serpent without a healer? And that mage's still using a Level 1 staff. Are they here for laughs or what?" Nearby players muttered, glancing skeptically at them. The bridge still had a queue of players waiting to challenge the boss. They'd been here since launch, watching every group that came and went.
Strolling confidently onto the bridge, Bradley changed the subject. "So about forming a guild, how are we gonna pull this off? Even if we scrape together the money, we'll still need decent people to help us manage. Can't just grab some random scrubs, right?"
"No worries, I've got a few folks in mind. Just need to introduce myself properly first." Orson chuckled.
Bradley's eyes lit up. "Alright, bro, I'll trust you on this one."
Just then, the massive serpent hissed and lunged at Bradley.
Clang! Bradley's silver sword flashed as he leapt forward, intercepting the creature's fangs with a fierce block. He twisted his blade and jabbed straight into its eye.
**CRITICAL HIT! -570!**
The serpent roared, spewing a jet of green poison at him. Bradley smoothly tossed his cloak up, blocking the venom as he charged forward, sword raised high, landing yet another critical hit.
"Whoa! Blocking the poison with your cloak? That's sick!" a player watching murmured.
"That guy's a beast," another added. "I saw him yesterday—his whole team wiped, but he soloed the boss down to the last hit on barely any health."
Bradley grinned at the praise, clearly showing off for Orson. Meanwhile, Orson just smirked. With a quick movement, he flicked out a basic fireball from his Level 1 staff.
**-223**
Bradley's eyes went wide. "No way, Orson! You're hitting 200 damage with that noob stick?"
Orson stayed silent, smiling as the next wave of damage numbers appeared.
**1560!**
**1560!**
**…**
In seconds, the boss's health plummeted by nearly 5,000 points.
"Holy crap! That's insane! There's no way this is legit," Bradley gaped, almost at a loss for words.
Nearby, the onlookers were equally dumbfounded.
"Seriously? How's this guy doing 5k in like, three seconds? Is this even real?"
"Okay, I'm re-rolling as a mage!"
Orson chuckled as Bradley shot him a look of disbelief. "Fine, fine. Guess I'm the clown for trying too hard, huh?" Bradley sighed in mock despair. He'd come to show off, but Orson's DPS had completely stolen the show.
With barely any effort, they took down the boss in seconds. Only a few silver coins and junk items dropped, which wasn't surprising—this serpent was just a story quest boss, nothing like the elite dungeon bosses.
"Hey, are you using cheats? Tell me where to get some if you are," Bradley messaged him, still incredulous.
"Keep dreaming," Orson replied with a chuckle. If anyone here was a cheat, it was him, the guy with memories from a previous life.
"Bah, I don't believe it. Fine, I'll admit I'm trash, happy now?"
Orson shook his head, amused. "When we hit the city, I'll show you the ropes."
"Bro, I'll take you out for foot massages tomorrow!" Bradley exclaimed, elated.
Orson: "..."
In his previous life, Bradley had managed to unlock the hidden class of Dark Knight on his first awakening, which combined magic with sword skills. The class was solid, ranked B-tier, but still a few tiers below the S-tier classes that truly dominated. Orson was planning to help him get a stronger start this time around.
"Oh, and I've got a little video file to send you. Download it when you can." Orson mentioned.
Bradley raised an eyebrow, grinning. "A video, eh? Thoughtful as ever, my man!"
"Get lost! It's a gameplay vid," Orson said, laughing. He sent him the video of his solo fight against the Dark Elf Queen and told him to upload it to the *Infinite Dimensions* forum when the time was right.
Chatting casually, the two strolled into the bustling city of Pandnorlin, escorting Hazel. Now that the top players had mostly left the beginner village, the city was packed, but thankfully spacious enough that there was no crowding.
"Why're we stopping at a bounty hunter tavern?" Bradley asked, frowning. "I already checked this place out; the quests here are trash, and it costs ten gold just to become a bounty hunter."
"Here, take some coins and sign up," Orson replied, sending him a trade request. Bradley accepted, confused, but grinned as soon as he saw the 100 gold in the trade window.
"Getting bankrolled feels great, bro!" Bradley laughed, accepting the trade immediately.
Orson grinned, thinking back to all the years they'd spent in the grind together. He trusted Bradley like a brother. This life, he wouldn't let him down.
In *Infinite Dimensions*, bounty hunters had a unique role. They could take on demon-hunting missions for rewards and even team up with NPC hunters. Bradley paid the fee and obtained his official hunter badge, looking expectantly at Orson.
"Now what?"
Orson pointed to a ragged, filthy man slumped in the tavern's corner, his face and clothes coated in dirt. "See that homeless guy in the corner?"
Bradley nodded, totally confused.
"Go punch him. I'll wait for you by the respawn point," Orson said with a smirk.
"Wait, why the respawn point?" Bradley asked, bewildered.
"Trust me! Just hit him—it'll trigger a special quest," Orson said, feigning seriousness. "Do it, man! Go get him!"
Bradley was skeptical but too curious to resist. "Fine, if this helps us, I'll do it." With a determined look, he marched over to the homeless man, wrinkling his nose at the smell. The NPC reeked so badly that even the other NPCs kept their distance.
"Alright, I'm going for it!" Bradley muttered, building up his resolve. "This might be wrong, but it's for the sake of hidden quests!"
He braced himself, then kicked the homeless man square in the face.
The man didn't flinch, as if made of stone. He slowly turned his head, revealing tangled golden hair and piercing silver eyes that seemed to swirl with dark power.
"Adventurer," the homeless man said, his voice cold. "Would you care for a thousand rounds of honorable combat with me?"
**MoneyMan**: "I… I'm out of here!"
Bradley glanced around for Orson, only to find he was long gone. Panicking, he opened up the NPC's status window:
**[Vagrant: Level 80]**
**[HP: 70,000,000]**
**[Attack: ???]**
**[Skills: ???]**
"Holy crap, he's level 80! Seventy million HP!
Who the hell is this guy!?"