I Can Extract Game Items

August approached the queue for Disco City, a futuristic urban sprawl known for its high-tech environments and as a haven for tech-class players. He had never ventured outside Tagharium before, and the prospect of exploring a new city intrigued him.

"One ticket to Disco City," August said to the portal attendant, a non-player character (NPC) dressed in a black uniform.

"One silver coin," the NPC answered.

August immediately paid up and the NPC handed him a glowing token.

---

[System Notification]

[ Portal Token Acquired: Disco City ]

---

He stepped through the portal, feeling the familiar sensation of his body dissolving into blue light. A moment later, he emerged in a completely different environment.

Disco City was the utter opposite of the medieval charm of Tagharium. Neon lights flashed everywhere, bathing the streets in shades of pink, blue, and green.

Hover cars zipped above the ground on invisible tracks, and holographic advertisements floated mid-air, showcasing everything from weapons to cosmetic upgrades.

The sound of techno music pulsed faintly in the background, giving the city an electrifying vibe.

"Welcome to Disco City," an automated voice greeted him as he stepped onto the bustling main street.

"This is... different," August muttered while adjusting his cloak as he stepped onto the busy street.

---

[System Notification]

[ You Have Arrived in Disco City – Capital of Technology ]

[ Safe Zone Activated ]

---

The crowd was filled with tech-class players. Some were clad in glowing armor that radiated with pulses of energy, while others carried massive firearms that looked like they could level a building.

Their appearances were just as varied—some looked fully human, while others were augmented with mechanical limbs, glowing eyes, or metallic plating across their bodies.

As August began walking, he realized he had no idea where to go to find a helmet. He glanced around for anyone who seemed approachable. A group of three players standing near a glowing vendor caught his attention.

The group consisted of; a tall hunter-class player with a visor over his eyes and a long rifle slung over his back. His leather jacket glowed faintly with intricate blue circuits.

The second was a cyborg-class player. Half of his face was replaced by machinery, wearing heavy armor that whirred softly with every move. The third was a forger-class player, holding a miniature drone in her hand that buzzed around her head like a curious pet. She wore a utility vest filled with tools and had oil smudges across her cheek.

"Excuse me," August approached cautiously. "I'm looking for a place to buy helmets. Got any recommendations?"n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

The cyborg glanced down at him as his mechanical eye glowed faintly. "New here, huh? Figures. You scream 'magic-based class.' You're in the wrong place, buddy."

The forger grinned. "Don't mind him. Helmets, huh? You'll want to check out CyberForge. It's on Central Lane, about a ten-minute walk from here. Look for the big holo-sign with a spinning helmet."

"Thanks," August voiced his appreciation.

"CyberForge has the best quality," the hunter added. "But if you're low on coin, there are smaller vendors in the alleyways of Neon Quarter. Prices there are better, but the quality's hit-or-miss."

"I appreciate the info," August replied.

"Good luck out there, magic man," the cyborg said with a smirk as August turned to leave.

---

As August made his way toward CyberForge, the sights and sounds of Disco City continued to amaze him.

The streets were lined with vendors selling glowing gadgets, high-tech armor, and futuristic mounts like hoverboards and flying motorcycles. A few players were testing weapons in public shooting ranges. Their plasma bullets lit up the dimly lit alleyways.

When he finally reached Central Lane, a massive holo-sign confirmed he was at the right place. The spinning helmet gleamed with an otherworldly sheen, and the words "CyberForge: Gadgets & Beyond" hovered below it.

The shop itself was smooth and futuristic, with a glass exterior that allowed customers to see the many items displayed inside. August stepped through the automatic doors, greeted by the gentle sound of machinery.

Behind the counter stood a woman with black hair pulled into a tight ponytail. She wore a silver bodysuit lined with glowing green accents, and her cybernetic arms gleamed under the shop's bright lights.

"Welcome to CyberForge," she said, her voice sharp and businesslike. "Looking for something specific?"

"A helmet," August replied. "Something practical but intimidating. I need it to conceal my facial features."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Ah, the mysterious type. Let's see what we've got."

She led him to a display case where various helmets were showcased. Each design was unique—some had glowing visors, others had intricate carvings, and a few looked like something out of a sci-fi movie.

"This one's called the Dread Sentinel. High-grade, full-face coverage and voice modulation included. It's durable and comes with a small mana reserve for energy-based defense."

"How much?" August asked.

"Fifty silver coins," she said.

August nodded, relieved it wasn't exorbitantly priced. "I'll take it."

---

[System Notification]

[ Transaction Complete: Dread Sentinel Helmet Purchased – 50 Silver Coins ]

---

The shopkeeper handed him the helmet. "Good choice. You won't regret it. And if you need repairs or upgrades, come back anytime."

"Thanks," August said while sliding the helmet on. The interior adjusted to fit his head perfectly, and the visor activated, giving him a clear yet slightly tinted view of his surroundings.

"Looking good," she said with a smirk.

---

Instead of leaving immediately, August decided to explore more of Disco City. The vibrant atmosphere fascinated him, and he wanted to soak it all in.

...

...

In a hospital ward at Faith Specialist Hospital which existed in the real world, the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor filled the otherwise silent room.

The air smelled faintly of antiseptics and fresh linens. A large window by the bed let in the silver rays of the moonlight casting dim shadows across the room. The walls were painted a calming pastel blue, but the atmosphere within was heavy with despair.

Seated beside the hospital bed was a man. His broad shoulders hunched forward as he leaned onto his knees. His face was hidden, but the tension in his posture told a story of grief and helplessness. His hands, calloused from years of labor, fidgeted nervously as they clasped together, as though he was silently praying to someone or something.

The figure on the bed was a young woman in her early twenties. Her auburn hair fanned out on the white pillow, and her complexion was pale, almost ghostly, against the sterile sheets.

She was hooked up to an array of machines, and her chest rose and fell faintly with the aid of a ventilator. Her belly was rounded with the unmistakable curve of late pregnancy, and her hands lay limp by her sides.

She looked peaceful, almost as though she were merely sleeping, but the machinery told a different story—a battle being fought in silence.

The man slowly lifted his head, revealing Derrick, August's friend. His usually vibrant, rugged face was worn down by worry and exhaustion. His dark eyes, usually filled with humor or determination, were hollow and red-rimmed, as though he hadn't slept properly in weeks.

His short-cropped black hair was disheveled, and he hadn't bothered to shave, leaving a rough stubble across his jaw.

"I don't believe in God," Derrick muttered with an emotional tone. "But right now… right now, I'd believe in anything. Any deity, any higher power… if it would just help save Tara and my baby."