Level 1 to Infinity: My Bloodline Is the Ultimate Cheat!-Chapter 283: Loot Frenzy

Ethan first grabbed an axe lying in the central area. Judging by its shape, it belonged to LongerThanLuffy.

A Dark Gold-tier great axe, restricted to Carnage Faction use.

Even if it weren't restricted, no class on the Survivor side could wield it.

Human warriors lacked axe specialization skills.

This type of axe was only usable by Carnage Faction classes like warriors and survival hunters.

Most players who rolled warrior here chose the Berserker race.

At the same time, he picked up a piece of parchment.

The writing on it was jagged and chaotic, like a centipede had crawled across it. Ethan couldn't read it.

He tossed it into his bag for later study.

Something told him this war might have been sparked by this very item. And now, it had fallen right into his hands!

His arms ached from looting. His current setup was four 32-slot high-tier bags.

Aside from supplies, he'd already stuffed six Dark Gold-tier pieces inside, with the rest being various Gold-tier gear.

The ground was still littered with a sea of golden glimmers. Ethan's heart ached.

What to do when you're out of space?

Then he remembered—back when he was testing whether bound gear could be transferred between his main and alt. He'd somehow directly accessed the alt's inventory and moved items over.

At the time, it had been an absent-minded experiment. Now, recalling it...

A grin spread across Ethan's face.

He opened his alt's inventory and found it packed with low-tier copper ore.

A few of the ores gleamed brilliantly—the mark of premium quality.

Given his alt's current mining skill, copper was all it could extract. But even premium copper ore sold for a hefty price.

He tried moving gear from his main inventory into the alt's, a second later, Ethan nearly laughed out loud.

Markham had a spatial storage bag in real life, now, in-game, he'd essentially created a remote mobile warehouse. This was beyond convenient. He'd forgotten to ask Markham where to get one of those spatial bags during their meal.

Next time they met, he had to ask. That thing was a game-changer.

Ethan began dumping gear into the alt's inventory without restraint.

Then, he switched control to the alt, activated a teleport stone, and returned to the guild stronghold to find Celia.

Celia didn't know that NotARogue was Ethan's alt. He'd told her it was his brother.

Though unfamiliar with his personal life, she'd been curious—since when did he have a sibling?

She'd never seen him in reality, but she didn't pry. When the alt approached her, she greeted it warmly.

Without a word, the alt began unloading an endless stream of gear onto the ground, much to her shock.

Of course, it was Ethan continuously funneling loot into the alt's inventory from afar.

Both sides worked in seamless tandem.

But the sheer volume of items was overwhelming. After over ten minutes, he'd only collected half of the six to seven thousand players' dropped gear.

Then, movement at the edges of his vision. During his looting spree, he spotted players rushing toward the area.

The earlier commotion must have drawn attention, or maybe word had spread. Such a massive player slaughter meant treasure ripe for the taking.

These were the scavengers.

In Ethereal, monster drops would vanish after one day if left unclaimed, resetting after the next maintenance.

But player deaths? The respawn timer for dropped gear varied by tier.

The lowest-tier Common Iron gear took three days to despawn. Bronze-tier lasted six days. Silver-tier vanished after twelve.

Gold-tier lasted a full twenty-four days.

Dark Gold-tier gear lingered for nearly two months before the system wiped it clean.

But Divine-tier and Legendary-tier items—whether dropped by monsters or players—never disappeared.

In the distance, players swarmed like ants, sprinting toward the battlefield. They spotted Ethan first, already scavenging the spoils, alone and conspicuous amidst the carnage.

The sight of gold-glinting loot scattered across the ground made them push harder, legs pumping as if they could will themselves faster.

Ethan's gaze swept over the remaining unclaimed gear, he had to abandon it. The alternative? Slaughter every scavenger in sight. Not only would that waste time, but more would keep coming.

Worse—killing here would alert the Carnage Faction. Him, the Druid God, a Survivor, standing in their territory.

That would complicate everything.

Transform: Panther Form.

Stealth.

In an instant, he vanished from sight.

Simultaneously, he directed his alt to instruct Celia: "Store these. Not the guild vault. I'll come retrieve them later."

Celia stared, baffled. Just how big was Ethan's "brother's" inventory?

Hadn't he gone mining?

Yet here he was, dumping three thousand pieces of gear in one go. Most restricted to Carnage Faction use, no less.

Where had he gotten it all?

The alt delivered its message, then Ethan sent it back to the mines.

Celia, still wide-eyed, called for reinforcements—Skyblade, Slashblade, and SeraphWarrior.

They'd help sort and catalog the hoard.

Ethan's "brother" had insisted on secrecy, and tackling this mountain alone would take forever.

Skyblade arrived first, then Slashblade, SeraphWarrior trailed behind. All three froze at the sight.

A sea of Gold-tier gear.

When Celia explained it was from "Ethan's brother," they each exchanged knowing looks.

Of course.

Ethan himself was a walking enigma—appearing only to drop jaws before vanishing again.

Now his "brother" was pulling the same stunts. That inventory alone was worth a fortune.

Three thousand items, a single haul. The largest known bag in Ethereal held eighty-four slots.

It had sold for a staggering 12,000 gold in the Eastern Frontier—snapped up by some tycoon.

Even with gold's depreciating exchange rate (1 gold = $1,000), that totaled 12 million in cash.

Back then, people had mocked the buyer: "Who blows that much on a backpack?"

But compared to Ethan's "brother"? That "tycoon" might as well be panhandling.

This was true extravagance.

If Ethan knew their thoughts, he'd cringe. Afterall, his alt's inventory was Just four sixteen-slot bags.

But Ethan remained oblivious.

Orienting himself, he headed due north—unaware of the legend brewing in his wake.