I Can Extract Game Items

Dex slipped inside, leaving Wright to wait.

The interior of the room was spacious, lined with black furniture and a massive table at the center.

Sitting at its head was the Ice Queen herself. Her real name was Elena Frost. She was an incredibly stunning woman with smooth, buttery skin, piercing ice-blue eyes, and long platinum hair cascading over her shoulders.

She wore a fitted, icy-blue suit jacket that seemed to shimmer faintly, paired with a high-necked blouse beneath that added to her air of refined elegance.

Her skirt had a little parting line that displayed her thick thighs and her lustrous curves were a sight to behold. Anyone would drool if they set eyes on her.

Elena Frost's entire look was cool, commanding, and borderline intimidating—precisely the image that suited the Ice Queen.

"Another visit from Detective Wright?" she questioned with a detached gaze as she looked up at Dex.

"Yes, ma'am," he nodded. "He says it's urgent."

She let out a sigh as though she had predicted this.

"Fine, let him in."

-

The heavy double doors of the Phoenix Celestial boardroom swung open, and Detective Wright entered with an air of determination.

His sharp suit was immaculate, but the exhaustion in his eyes betrayed the mounting frustration he carried. At the far end of the room, Elena Frost sat at the head of a table. Her icy-blue eyes locked onto him the moment he entered.

"Elena Frost," Wright began with an exasperated tone. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

Elena leaned back in her chair with her silver-blonde hair flowing over her shoulders like liquid light.

Her slender fingers toyed with a pen on the table as she spoke.

"Detective Wright," she gestured to the chair across from her. "You always know how to make an entrance. What brings you this time?"

Wright didn't sit. Instead, he placed his hands firmly on the edge of the table, leaning forward. "Elena as you may know... Enders Light is no longer just a game—it's spilling over into the real world, and it's chaos."

Elena arched a delicate brow while maintaining a calm expression. "Go on."

Wright pulled out his smartphone, tapping it a few times before showing her a news clip. On the screen was a report of a recent incident: a neighborhood devastated by an attack that left multiple injured and two dead.

The anchor's voice described supernatural abilities being used in destructive ways.

"This," Wright began, "is just one of the many crimes committed by supernatural players this month alone. People who gained abilities through Enders Light are running rampant—robberies, assaults, and even organized crime. It's escalating, Elena, and law enforcement can't keep up."

Elena tilted her head with an unbothered look. "And how does this concern me?" she asked.

"You know exactly why I'm here," Wright's voice rose slightly. "The law enforcement system isn't equipped to handle supernatural players. We're trying to fight fire with paper shields, and it's not working. That's why I need your help."

Elena's lips curled into a faint smile, but there was no warmth in it. "Let me guess: You're here to ask me to join your little crusade, again?"

Wright straightened, sensing her resistance but refusing to back down. "I'm assembling a team—a covert unit of supernatural players who will work with law enforcement to take down those abusing their abilities. We need people who understand the game, who have the skills and power to fight back. You're one of the most powerful players in the world, and your guild has resources no one else can match."

Elena rose from her chair at this moment and took some steps around the table. "Detective, I believe I've made myself clear before. I have no interest in joining law enforcement, let alone forming a militia to clean up your messes. We're gamers. We signed up for this game to escape reality, not to be shackled to it."

Wright took a deep breath with his fists clenching at his sides. "You have the power to make a difference, Elena. Do you think these criminals will stop at robbing banks or attacking neighborhoods? If this continues, it's only a matter of time before they come for you, your guild, your people. Are you really willing to sit back and let that happen?"

Elena circled the table causing her heels to click against the polished floor. She stopped in front of him. "And what would you have me do, Detective Wright? Sacrifice my players? Put their lives at risk for a system that has already failed to protect them? Tell me, how many of your officers are trained to handle supernatural players? How many would last a second against someone who can level a building with a flick of their wrist?"

Wright hesitated, but his jaw tightened. "We're not equipped. That's why we need you. You could—"

"Enough," Elena's voice cut through the air like a blade as she snapped. "This isn't my responsibility. Just because some of us have gained abilities doesn't make us soldiers. It doesn't make us heroes. And it certainly doesn't make us your saviors."

Wright exhaled deeply as his shoulders sagged. "If not you, then at least spare some of your players. Surely, some of them would be willing—"Nôv(el)B\\jnn

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Elena turned her back to him and rested her hands on the table. "No. I won't put their lives in danger. You're asking for something I can't and won't give."

Wright's frustration was visible but he knew he had lost this battle. He adjusted his tie and straightened his posture. "You're making a mistake, Elena. When this spirals out of control, you'll wish you'd done something."

Elena didn't respond. Her icy gaze remained fixed on the city skyline through the boardroom's tall windows. Taking her silence as his cue to leave, Wright turned and walked out. The heavy doors closed behind him with a resonant thud.

Elena's lips tightened as she stared out into the distance. "Superheroes don't exist," she muttered under her breath.

...

...

Back in August's apartment, the house was finally calm.

After the chaos of the day, August had tucked Sophia into bed. She clung to him tightly before falling asleep.

Her small hands gripped his shirt like she was afraid he'd disappear. It made his chest ache, but he gently pried her fingers loose, kissed her forehead, and pulled the blanket up to her chin.

He stood by the door for a moment, watching her peaceful sleeping face, and exhaled deeply. Everything that had transpired was still heavy on his mind.

"Today was insane," he muttered to himself as he turned off the light and quietly closed the door.

He headed to the small living room and flopped onto the sofa, staring up at the ceiling.

Images of Damon, Mr. Floozk, and the chaos at the nightclub played over and over in his mind. He didn't know what had become of Damon, but he didn't care. What mattered was that Sophia was safe, and Damon would think twice before ever coming near them again... That is if he was still alive.

More importantly, August realized he had a surprising silver lining to the situation. He hadn't handed over a cent of the money he'd earned.

Pulling out his phone, he checked his bank account. The bright numbers stared back at him: "$800,000."

He blinked a few times, letting it sink in.

He still had a hefty chunk of cash left, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like he could breathe.

"Not bad," he whispered with a small smile.

He began scrolling through his notes, mentally tabulating the debts he still owed.

Unlike Damon's absurd amount, the remaining debts weren't as pressing. A couple of banks and a few smaller loan sharks—manageable compared to what he'd just dealt with.

"Looks like I'll finally be cleaning up the rest of August Clementine's mess tomorrow," he said with a dry chuckle.

Once he had taken care of the other debts, he could finally get himself and Sophia out of this dump of a neighborhood to somewhere better... Safer.

He also thought about his business. He could properly focus on it now and stop the factory work.

With that thought settled, he leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes.

The weight on his shoulders had lessened, but the thrill of success was already pulling him back into the game.

"Enders Light," he murmured.

His heart quickened slightly at the thought of logging back in. He wasn't just playing for fun anymore—it was a lifeline, a goldmine, and a chance to make something of himself in this new world.

He got up, stretched his limbs, and walked to his room. Sitting down in front of his pod, he ran his fingers across its surface thoughtfully. "Alright, Aleman," he said with a grin. "Let's see what trouble we can stir up tonight."

He slid into the pod, adjusted the helmet, and let out a steadying breath. Moments later, the world around him melted away as the familiar system voice greeted him.

[ Welcome back, Player Aleman. ]

It was time to grind.