SSS-rank Legendary Draw: Every Drop Becomes a Legendary Item

A few minutes later, a low, painful grunt echoed through the quiet room.

Leon’s eyelids twitched violently before he slowly, agonizingly forced them open. His head felt incredibly heavy, as if it had been filled with solid lead while he was out.

Everything in his vision was completely blurry, the stark walls of his room melting into a chaotic smear of gray and white.

Along with the broken sight, a sharp, weird ringing noise vibrated deeply inside his head, sounding like a high-pitched alarm that absolutely refused to quiet down.

Suddenly, through the irritating buzz in his ears, he started hearing faint knocks coming from his door.

The knocks were very low and muffled at first, barely registering in his dazed mind. However, they didn’t stop.

They kept getting faster and louder with every passing second, echoing sharply against the cramped walls.

Within moments, the polite knocking turned into an aggressive assault, until it was entirely clear that someone was violently banging on his door with full force.

Leon winced at the noise, squeezing his eyes shut as he forcefully shook his head from side to side.

The sharp movement helped, and his vision finally began to clear, the blurry shapes settling back into the familiar, pathetic view of his scanty room.

However, the annoying ringing noise in his head hadn’t gone completely, still thrumming faintly behind his temples.

He groaned, rolling his head to the side to look down at the floor. His eyes locked onto the crude, nail-spiked weapon resting against the cold ground.

"Stupid... club," he muttered, his voice incredibly hoarse and filled with deep annoyance.

He weakly stretched his arm out toward the ugly piece of wood, his fingers trembling slightly from the sheer lack of mana.

The moment his intent connected with the item, it vanished into his inventory in a dull flash of light, leaving the floor completely bare.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself up from the mattress and finally stood up on his feet, his balance slightly unsteady. The aggressive banging on the wood was making his headache significantly worse.

"I’m coming, damn it!" Leon shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice sharp with irritation. "Don’t break down my door!"

He stumbled slightly as he crossed the incredibly small, cramped room in just a few short steps. Reaching out, he gripped the cold handle of the door, unlocked it with a loud click, and pulled it wide open.

Standing on the exact other side of the threshold was a remarkably fat man. He had a round, sweaty face, and sitting squarely on his head was a wide, worn-out brown hat that looked just as old as the run-down building itself.

Leon’s shoulders slumped, and a heavy, deeply exhausted sigh escaped his lips the moment he saw the man’s familiar face.

He didn’t need to ask why the visitor was here, thinking bitterly to himself a single, dreadful word: ’Landlord...’

The fat man’s face instantly squeezed into a deep, hideous frown the exact moment his small eyes locked onto Leon.

The sheer intensity of his rage was completely unmistakable, his cheeks flushing a bright, angry red to the point where Leon could almost see literal smoke pouring out of his flared nostrils.

The air between them grew thick and suffocating with the man’s immediate, explosive fury.

"What the hell are you still doing here?!" the fat man suddenly shouted at the top of his lungs, his booming voice echoing violently through the narrow, run-down hallway. "Haven’t you been told to vacate this place already?!"

Leon winced slightly as the loud shout rattled the lingering ringing noise inside his aching head. He raised a hand and slowly scratched the back of his head, his expression deeply apologetic yet visibly strained.

"I just need... a little more time, you see," Leon said, his voice quiet and cautious as he tried to de-escalate the man’s blooming anger. "I’ll pay you your rent. I promise."

The fat man hissed loudly, a sound of absolute disgust escaping his wet lips.

"That’s the exact same thing you said last month..." the landlord spat out, his eyes glaring into Leon with contempt. "And the exact one before that also! Always the same pathetic excuse!"

The man paused for a brief moment, his heavy chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath. He clenched his fat fists tightly at his sides, the skin over his knuckles stretching white from the sheer force of his grip before he continued his aggressive tirade.

"You see, I’m running a legitimate business here!" the landlord bellowed, gesturing wildly with his clenched hands. "I don’t care what kind of miserable situation you’re going through right now! Just pay me my damn rent! How incredibly hard could that possibly be?!"

The fat man leaned forward, his sweaty face getting uncomfortably close to Leon’s.

"This place is so incredibly cheap already!" the man sneered, waving his arm toward the pathetic, cramped room behind Leon. "What more could you possibly want from me?! Free housing?!"

Leon felt a wave of exhaustion hit him, but he forced himself to swallow his pride, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible.

"I will pay..." Leon said, stepping back slightly from the man’s aggressive stance. "I really will, it’s jus—"

"Shut your mouth!" the fat man instantly cut him off, entirely refusing to let Leon finish his sentence.

The landlord let out a harsh, mocking laugh that shook his entire heavy frame.

"What, your pathetic ’porter’ business hasn’t been paying well lately?" the man mocked, his tone dripping with pure malice. "Pftt—don’t make me laugh! You are an absolute disgrace of a player!"

The man shook his head in deep disappointment, his frown deepening even further into his fat cheeks.

"I highly doubt I’ll ever even get a single cent of this rent from you," the landlord stated coldly, crossing his thick arms over his massive chest. "So, I’m finally taking matters into my own hands."

Leon opened his mouth, however, the fat man completely interrupted him yet again, barking out his final words before Leon could utter a word.

"Either you leave here by tomorrow morning," the man growled, his voice dropping into a low, threatening tone as he pointed a fat, stubby finger directly at Leon’s chest, "or I will make you."