Dungeon King: The Hidden Ruler-Chapter 95: [Crash and Cover 1] This Was Never About Justice

The Frayed Ledger guild hall was still, the kind of stillness that carried weight. Faint light glimmered from the merchant interface where Theo sat, his feet propped on a worn bench. The NPC cashier blinked slowly in standby mode beside him, her noble uniform still pristine in contrast to the scuffed stone counters.

Theo’s gaze was fixed on the projection hovering before him—NekoNekoNyan’s live stream. Volume off, chat scrolling in chaos. The streamer sat framed in soft pink overlays and bunny-ear cosmetics, speaking in that well-practiced cheer that always landed just shy of artificial. But her expression was different now—wide-eyed, breathy, the kind of look designed to signal a mix of vulnerability and bravery.

Raven stepped into the hall without a sound. He moved like a shadow slipping into its rightful place. Default summoner robe. No weapon drawn. Just quiet.

Theo didn’t glance up. He just pointed with two fingers at the stream.

Theo (casual): "She’s got 80k live. Climbing by the second."

Raven (quietly): "What’s she saying?"

Theo (shrugs, flipping on auto-transcript): "Some sob story. Dungeon griefed. Item stolen. Says there’s a myth in the game—a Phantom that appears in PvP zones and ruins people."

The transcript scrolled across the side of the screen.

"I was just trying to clear Ashmarch with my team, you know? But then this... thing showed up. I didn’t even see who it was. Just chains and shadows—and my gear? Gone. It took my drop. My sponsor gear."

"I think it’s the Phantom. The one people talk about. The one that ganks you right before a boss and leaves no name."

[Chat] OMG the Phantom is real??

[Chat] Wait she lost the Helix Scythe?

[Chat] NO WAY. They have to ban that exploit. NOW.

Theo (mocking): "Victim voice. Works every time."

Raven said nothing. Just watched—quiet, precise, and memorizing every lie.

Neko shifted tone, biting her lip for emphasis.

"You know what really gets me? It’s not the gear. Not even the loss. It’s that someone out there thinks this is fun. Like, just griefing players mid-dungeon, deleting hours of progress like it’s a joke."

(she scoffs, dramatic)

"I bet it’s just some sweaty PvP loser queuing alone in their parent’s attic because they’ve got nothing productive to do."

(mocking tone, exaggerated air quotes)

"What—like The Attic Squad or something?"

(grimace and half-laugh)

"Ew. Imagine thinking that sounds cool."

[Chat] lolol Attic Squad

[Chat] sounds like an edgy RP guild

[Chat] cringe name, perfect for a ganker

[Chat] Ban the Phantom! Ban the cheater!

[Chat] This game needs GMs with actual power.

Theo (flatly): "She’s laying it on thick. Weaponizing sympathy. Letting the mob do her dirty work."

Raven (still watching): "She wants to move the crowd away from her own contract breach."

Theo nodded slowly.

Theo (calmer): "Sponsors are probably watching. Streamer-sympathy moves stocks."

Neko’s avatar leaned forward, shimmering with a custom blush filter.

"Please, if anyone knows anything about this Phantom... report them. Clip them. Let the devs know. We can’t let this go on."

The chat exploded.

[Chat] I’ll start logging all the dungeons, see if I can spot a pattern.

[Chat] My friend saw something in Thornspine too!

[Chat] This thing’s spreading. It’s real. Phantom’s real.

Raven turned slowly, heading for the exit.

Theo (without looking): "You logging out?"

Raven (quietly): "She wants a war. I’ll give her one."

The door closed behind him, quiet as a drawn breath.

Theo let the stream run another ten seconds, then muted it again.

Theo (to himself): "Hope you’re fast, partner. She just lit the match. Now let’s see what burns."

CloudSpire Lounge wasn’t loud. It was engineered for discretion—VR capsule bays lined with privacy partitions, ambient lighting dialed to a soft blue, and isolation protocols strong enough that even whispered sound couldn’t bleed through walls.

Adrian stepped out of his capsule barefoot, the hiss of pressurized seal release still hanging in the air. He moved with quiet efficiency—toward the dark-paneled desk at the corner of his lounge suite. No wasted motion. He didn’t even check his phone.

Two folders sat open on the terminal.

[THORNSPINE_RECLAIM].mp4

[ASHMARCH_CALL].mp4

He selected the second.

The stream was still running. Neko’s view count had passed 95k. She was wiping her eye, glancing at off-screen chat messages. The mood was working in her favor—he could see it in the metrics.

Adrian logged into the stream chat using one of his burner accounts. No fancy name. Just noise in the sea.

User: _"That’s not what really happened. I have proof."

Instant backlash.

[Chat] Shut up, troll.

[Chat] Mods ban this loser.

[Chat] How dare you attack Neko when she’s clearly traumatized?

Neko paused mid-sentence, glancing toward her second monitor. She read it.

"You think you have proof? Of what? That you exist? lol. Give proof or i report your account, honey."

Adrian didn’t reply. He just dragged the video into the cloud upload queue. Buffering bar: 84%... 92%... Done.

He copied the link. Posted it.

User: _"Here’s the proof. Watch before you decide."

For a second, nothing.

Then someone clicked it.

Then ten.

Then a hundred.

Silence flooded the chat.

The video opened in the Ashmarch Pit’s boss chamber—dim, echoing with residual heat and the hum of post-battle mana discharge. A few flickering braziers cast jagged shadows across the cracked floor.

At the far end of the chamber stood NekoNekoNyan. Fully suited in her latest cat-themed armor set, shoulder decals gleaming. Her new scythe dragged across the floor with exaggerated flair—polished, camera-ready, maybe even enchanted for cosmetic sparkles.

But she wasn’t streaming yet. Not really.

She was in a private call.

"—what, you guys just got a fucking wipe?!"

"I especially assign you dorks to farm the robotic stupid dog," she snapped, pacing in place. "And someone gets you?"

(Unclear voice from the call)

"Okay, okay. How many?"

(Unclear voice again)

"One? Fucking ONE? And you died?"

(Unclear response)

"Fuck! What do you mean call other guild members?! And let fuckers from Helix Media know I’m breaching contract doing black-market farming?"

(Unclear voice)

"No. No, you dipshit. What about Team A?"

(Unclear voice)

"Wiped? What do you mean wiped?"

(Unclear voice)

"I SAID NO! I will not invite anyone else into this operation! Can’t trust those coin beggars! Fuck! After this one boss kill—retreat. We can’t let Helix find out we’re doing this shit behind their back. Now shove off, I’ve got streaming schedule to do!"

The screen showed her interface close the private call. Then—just seconds later—she flicked open her public overlay.

A new drone blinked into existence before her.

"Hello minna-nyaaaaan! It’s your favorite battle princess back again, nya~! Today we’re gonna solo Ashlord Arvax with sparkle and style, meow-meow!!"

Same voice. Same smile. All fake.

It was clean. Timed. Real.

And damning.

[Chat] Wait. Wtf is this?

[Chat] Is that... real?

[Chat] This looks edited. She wouldn’t do this. Right?

[Chat] Bro she’s faking sponsor losses?!?

[Chat] No way that’s Ashmarch Pit. Isn’t that from a different dungeon?

[Chat] Nah, I’ve cleared Ashmarch three times. That’s definitely the boss chamber—look at the braziers and the mana vents.

[Chat] ...shit. They’re right. That’s Arvax’s arena.

[Chat] Timestamp’s today. This is current. Real.

[Chat] How many sponsors did she lie to??

[Chat] Helix Media rep is shit like this? rofl

[Chat] Mods can’t delete it fast enough. Damage is done.

[Chat] This is going on the front page. Guaranteed.

[Chat] Clip it. Archive it. Spread it.

[Chat] I used to look up to her. Never again.

[Chat] This is unreal. She is fake as shit bro lolol.

[Chat] From battle princess to backdoor dealer.

Neko’s face twitched. Just a flicker. But it was enough.

As the chat spiraled out of control, Adrian said nothing.

He didn’t defend the clip. Didn’t argue. Didn’t even stay in the channel. He logged out quietly from the burner account and leaned back in his chair.

Let them handle the rest.

The exposure was enough. Let the mob do what mobs do best.

The chaos no longer needed his voice.

"That video’s fake. Deepfaked. I don’t even use that layout anymore. Mods—remove it."

[Chat] It shows today’s timestamp.

[Chat] You said this was the run. You lied on stream.

[Chat] Helix Media gonna love this.

The spiral collapsed fast. Viewers clipped the footage. Uploaded to forums. Reddit threads exploded. Discord servers lit up.

Neko reached to mute her mic—but didn’t hide it fast enough.

[Chat] Oh my god she’s trying to kill the stream.

[Chat] Did you make up a bullshit story about this Phantom character to cover your contract breach? LOL

NekoNekoNyan ended stream.

Screen cut to black.

Adrian leaned back in his chair, just slightly—relief, or exhaustion, or both.

Adrian never cared about clearing his name. That was never the goal.

He wanted misdirection—fuel for the Phantom legend. He wasn’t the one on trial. The myth was.

This was enough. Enough to drown her with her own lies. Enough to deepen the myth without tying it to him directly.

He leaned back farther in his chair. The mental fatigue started to creep in—not sudden, just the slow pressure of too many plays stacked on top of each other.

Dungeon clearing. Cartel operations. Competitor takedowns. And now... Helix Media.

Helix wasn’t just any news outlet. It was the world’s largest entertainment media network. Every VR player, every game investor, every marketing exec watched them. They dictated hype. Framed public perception. A bad story from Helix could reshape reputations overnight.

Adrian knew what this meant. He’d just made a real-world enemy.

Things could escalate fast. Or maybe they wouldn’t. Too many variables. Impossible to predict.

But one thing was clear:

Crushing someone’s public image like this came with consequences. And the biggest one? NekoNekoNyan. One of Primordial Abyss’s top streamers, now humiliated in front of a hundred thousand viewers.

She wouldn’t forgive. She wouldn’t forget.

That was the risk he accepted. If protecting the cartel meant sparking a war, so be it.

Adrian exhaled through his nose, eyes half-lidded. He wasn’t the hero. He wasn’t trying to be.

Raven was never meant to be a role model.

He was an antihero. Not noble. Not pure. Just... necessary.

Everyone is the protagonist in their own story.

And this one was his.

Foll𝑜w current novels on fre(e)w𝒆bnovel