All Of The Worlds Will Be Mine

Alina's expression immediately returned to its standard setting—neutral and emotionless, as if nothing had happened. Her glowing purple eyes locked onto Elric's without blinking.

Elric also did not bother with her for now, he can deal with it after every was settled.

"Understood, sir. Do you wish to speak with him inside the game, or meet in real life?" she asked softly. "Also, if you're planning to invite him to the Arcology, it will require prior approval. Your father must be informed of any outside guests."

Elric clicked his tongue. "Tch. Don't bother."

His voice was calm but firm.

"We'll talk inside the game. That's enough. Schedule it for tomorrow evening."

"Very well," she replied, bowing slightly. "I will handle the arrangements immediately."

Elric leaned back in his chair and exhaled slowly.

Whether Suzuki Satoru would agree to the meeting or not… didn't matter. Refusal, for someone like that, wasn't really an option.

In this world, declining an invitation from someone of Elric's status was practically a death sentence.

It sounded extreme, but it wasn't exaggeration. Society had regressed into a system more rigid and brutal than even the medieval ages. Arcology nobility stood far above the common man, like gods. If word ever spread that a lowborn had refused a direct invitation from someone like Elric...

Well, Elric wouldn't even have to lift a finger.

Dozens—hundreds—of people would make the offender's life a living hell, all in hopes of earning Elric's approval or favor. It would be social suicide, if not literal.

Even if Elric himself had no such malicious intent...Not everyone saw it that way.

This was just the way the world worked now.A polite suggestion from a noble was equivalent to an unspoken order.

...The Outside World....

In the shadows of a crumbling megacity, beneath the clouded, orange-brown sky, a lone man walked through the mist-choked streets. His pace was steady, but his posture slouched—more like a walking corpse than a living human.

He wore a thick, sealed gas mask over his face. His body was entirely encased in a faded black survival suit; the outer fabric lined with micro-filters to protect him from the poisoned air. Each step he took echoed faintly against the cracked, silent pavement.

Ten minutes passed in heavy silence before he reached his destination.

A towering, dilapidated residential block stood before him—ten stories high, the paint peeling, its windows clouded with grime.

Without a word, the man removed one glove, revealing a pale, worn hand. He pressed his finger against the biometric scanner beside the rusted entrance.

Beep—

A robotic voice echoed from the speaker above the door.

"Welcome back, Mr. Suzuki Satoru."

He didn't respond.

He didn't even blink.

With the door unlocked, he stepped inside and climbed the stairs, each creak of the metal echoing his exhaustion. When he entered his room, the air felt stale. Dust hung in the corners, and clothes lay scattered where he'd left them that morning.

He sighed softly—but only in his heart.

He didn't bother cleaning. It wasn't worth the effort.

Instead, he walked into a small, sterile chamber located at the back of the unit.

It was a room of pure white.Bare. Cold. Unadorned.

Only a single machine sat in the center—tall, cylindrical, and clear like a glass pod. It looked like something pulled straight from a sci-fi film. The surface pulsed faintly with dim blue light.

Silently, he undressed.

He stepped into the pod.

The machine came alive the moment it sensed his presence.

Whirrrrr...

Mechanical arms emerged from the walls like the tentacles of some sleeping octopus, each one gliding smoothly toward him. Without hesitation, they pierced his skin with precision, injecting nutrients, fluids, and oxygenated compounds directly into his bloodstream.

This was his Survival Pod.

In a world where clean water and food capsules were too expensive for people like him, this was the only affordable alternative. It kept him alive. Hydrated. Barely functioning.

When the process finished, his legs trembled slightly from fatigue. He dragged himself back to the adjacent room—cramped, dimly lit, and barely large enough for the cheap bed and the aging equipment in the corner.

There, resting atop a small table, was his escape.

A full-dive VR helmet.

Without hesitation, he dropped onto the floor cushion, pulled the helmet over his head, and lay back.

A single thought crossed his mind before the real world disappeared:

"Time to leave this hell."

And with that, his vision was swallowed in white.

YGGDRASIL – Nazarick Guild Hall

Suzuki Satoru—no, Momonga now—opened his eyes.

He was no longer in his rotting apartment. No more toxic air. No gray ceilings. No artificial tubes keeping him alive.

Now, he stood beneath the shimmering marble arches of the Great Tomb of Nazarick.

His breathing steadied. His back straightened. His fatigue vanished like mist in sunlight.

Even after 17 hours of grueling labor in the outside world, the moment he entered this game... he felt whole again. Refreshed. Alive.

But that brief moment of joy didn't last.

The vast guild hall was empty.

No footsteps.No laughter.No chatter about strategy.No familiar voices discussing new raids or boss mechanics.

Just silence.

He stared at the familiar furniture, the tapestries, the intricate floors he and his friends had once decorated together.

How long had it been since they'd all gathered here?

He sighed, quietly.

His heart ached—not from disappointment, but from nostalgia. He remembered the heated arguments about dungeon layouts, the celebrations after victories, the long, joyful nights of camaraderie.

And despite everything… a faint, lonely smile touched his lips.

Those memories were precious.Even if they hurt now, they were real.

But then—

Ping!

A notification sound broke the silence.

A message window popped open at the corner of his vision.

Momonga blinked.He wasn't expecting anything today.

Maybe… one of them finally logged in?

He opened the message quickly, anticipation tightening in his chest.

But his eyes narrowed almost instantly.

This was an in-game message, directly from the game system.

Is there new update or something.

He doesn't seem to hear anything about it.

And why will they even update this dying game, with countless questions in his mind, he opened the message.

For a surprise of his life