Online Game: Starting With SSS-Ranked Summons-Chapter 311: The Benefits!

The first notification made his breath catch

[Congratulations! As the first recognised guild, you will receive extra benefits!]

[First guild recognised benefit. One hidden class quest will be given every two weeks. The guild owner will have control over whom the hidden class quest will be given to. Furthermore, the hidden class quest can either be B-Level, or A-Level. The level of the quest will determine the strength of the hidden class.]

Arthur stared at the text, reading it twice to ensure he'd understood correctly.

Hidden class quests. Every two weeks.

His mind went blank.

Hidden classes were legendary—transformative upgrades that elevated ordinary players into walking catastrophes.

Most players never encountered a single hidden class opportunity. The system was offering him twenty-six per year.

Two powerhouses every month.

But the real power lay in the selection mechanism. Arthur could choose recipients.

He could create loyalty through opportunity. Could forge an inner circle of players with hidden classes.

Better yet...

Competition. Monthly events. Let loyal members compete for the privilege.

Imagine the dedication such contests would inspire. Players pushing themselves beyond normal limits for a chance at transcendence. The strongest, most committed individuals rising to claim their rewards.

Whoever finishes first gets the hidden class.

Arthur's fingers drummed against the desk. B-Level quests would create powerful players. A-Level quests would birth true monsters.

Formicia shifted on her web, eight eyes tracking his expressions. "Master seems pleased."

"Very pleased." Arthur's voice carried satisfaction that bordered on hunger. "This changes the long-term strategy significantly."

He scrolled to the next benefit, anticipation building. ƒrēenovelkiss.com

[Diplomatic Immunity: Guild master cannot be imprisoned or restricted by non-royal authorities in recognized territories]

Arthur's smile turned predatory.

No more military detention.

The benefit struck at the heart of his past trauma. Never again would he find himself at the mercy of government handlers or shadow organizations. Only royal authority could touch him now—and the crown had already shown its support.

Freedom to operate. Freedom to retaliate.

His fingers traced the interface as the next notification appeared.

[Daily Quests: The guild will be sent daily quests, that the members can complete. Upon completion, the members will be rewarded with 90% of the reward whilst the guild will receive 10%. The guild's cut will be placed inside the guild storage, only accessible by the guild master and those appointed by him.]

Sustainable revenue stream. Arthur's mind immediately began calculating potential volumes. With thousands of members and Daily participation, this will lead to compounding wealth.

Even a modest 10% cut from hundreds of daily completions would generate massive resources. Not just coin, but items, experience materials, rare components—everything flowing directly into the guild's private vault.

Economic independence from the established families. No need to rely on their 'generosity.'

The beauty lay in the participation structure. Members received the vast majority of rewards, ensuring loyalty and motivation. Meanwhile, Arthur accumulated the infrastructure to fund increasingly ambitious operations.

Self-sustaining empire. Growing stronger every day.

The third benefit materialized on his screen.

[Building Immunity: The building cannot be entered without the authority of the guild master. The guild master can set any restriction he likes on those entering the building, such as level, age etc.]

Arthur leaned back in his chair.

Absolute control inside the guild building. Perfect security.

No more worrying about infiltrators or spies. No more concern about hostile forces penetrating his inner sanctum. The headquarters would become an impregnable fortress, accessible only to those he personally approved.

"I can set level requirements. Age restrictions. "

The applications extended beyond simple security. He could create exclusive zones within the building—areas accessible only to his most trusted lieutenants. Inner circles within inner circles, each layer filtered by his criteria.

Formicia chittered approvingly from her web. "Master's domain grows stronger."

"Indeed." Arthur's voice carried quiet satisfaction. "But we're not finished yet."

The final notification blazed across his interface with particular brilliance.

[Resource Allocation: The royal family will give the guild weekly resources, from items, gold coins, rare herbs and more.]

Arthur stared at the benefit, momentarily stunned by its scope.

Royal funding. Weekly deliveries.

The crown wasn't just recognizing his guild—they were investing in it. Actively supporting his expansion with resources that would take months to accumulate through normal channels.

Bound to the crown through mutual benefit rather than mere political alliance. Smart politics from a monarchy that had survived centuries of upheaval.

How generous of them.

He closed the notifications and looked around his temporary quarters. In thirty minutes, this modest space would be abandoned for something grander. The new headquarters would manifest these benefits in physical form.

Diplomatic immunity. Daily quest income. Perfect security. Royal funding.

Each benefit built upon the others, creating a foundation that would support whatever came next.

Arthur stood, stretching muscles that had grown tense during his review. Outside, Caldera's bustle continued—players and NPCs unaware of the tectonic shifts reshaping their world

Meanwhile, in the real world.

Charlotte lay in her hospital bed, unconscious.

Pale. Fragile. Breathing through machines that beeped in a steady rhythm. She had no idea what her brother had done in the past few months. Her brother had gone from an orphan in the slums to perhaps the most influential man on the planet.

The girl who'd watched him steal bread to survive would never recognise the figure now commanding global attention. Arthur Fate—the broken boy who'd held her hand through their darkest nights—had become someone so different.

Inside the highest military headquarters, world leaders gathered.

The Pentagon's most secure conference room was tense.

Faces illuminated by holographic displays showing reports about reality fractures, and one name that appeared in every briefing.

Arthur Fate.

President Morrison of the United States leaned forward, fingers steepled. "Reality is changing too fast. The merge must be approaching incredibly soon."

Nods rippled around the circular table. The world leaders were all gathered, seated at one table; they knew what was coming, and it was worrying.

Everyone was feeling the pressure.

"But there's a problem," One of the world leaders stated, completely ignoring diplomatic pleasantries.

"Arthur Fate."