A Black Market LitRPG

“So, you’re the Seven Snakes’ dedicated brewer?”

“And you’re the new arctech designer. How did Kyle enslave you?”

Gordon had a confused expression on his face. “Enslave? He helped install me as the factory manager.” Gordon was working on a large arctech radio, a modification ordered by Kyle.

He wondered as to why did he need a radio this large. Is he planning to run his own radio station or something? With this power, the radio can reach the entire city. Or is he trying to make sure he can reach something... The only instruction he got from Kyle was that it should be able to be received even in a basement.

Eric Dicar scoffed. “Idiot, you know that you’re not truly free. If you ran right now, Kyle would chase you to hell himself, mark my words.”

“But why would I run? I already feel like I’m the top of the world here! In fact, I don’t see you running.”

“I… I have recipes to learn.”

“And I have engravings to learn too!”

Gordon and Eric Dicar exchanged a knowing look, having met for the first time. They were now in Gordon’s factory office, waiting for a supposed meeting with Kyle.

“So… you too?” Eric queried.

“It seems we both have our suspicions. Why don’t you start first?” Gordon motioned with his hand.

“I postulate that Kyle is a time traveller.”

“Impossible, I’ve asked around. He used to be known as Alvin before his bipolar personality took over.”

“Fine. Time travelled and took over a body. Soul possession or something.”

“Wait, you believe in souls?”

“I sometimes feel my soul leaving my body after a bad drink.”

Gordon groaned. “Look, that’s a bit too farfetched. I have a better theory – Alvin was actually the amnesiac, and Kyle was his original personality! He probably is from a foreign land, perhaps beyond the Great Waves that has much better technology than us.”

“Okay now that’s ridiculous. Everyone knows there’s nothing beyond the Great Waves.”

“You don’t know that for sure! Just because no one made it back does not mean that there is nothing out there.”

“Pssh, and you dare diss my soul theory?!”

The doors to the office swung open to reveal Kyle striding in. Without skipping a beat, he headed over to the only remaining military crate in the Seven Snakes district, pulling out a mortar and a cannonball. “We need to create an improved version of this.” Kyle spoke quickly, getting straight to the point.

Eric and Gordon immediately snapped out of their previous conversation, paying attention. “Improve? This is the peak of Yual’s military technology!”

“Exactly, which is why I called the two of you.”

Gordon nodded, but soon glanced at Eric. “Wait, I understand why you would need me, but why Eric?”

Makoa stood on a balcony, overlooking a large square where the hundred and fifty Ilysian Punks were gathered to assault the Seven Snakes district. He watched as they loaded up their pistols and armour, some even stocking up on potions.

This was the staging area, not far from the Seven Snakes district. Never before did I have to use this many punks to crush a single district… It has been a week since the loss of his base, with Makoa preparing everything in advance for this assault.

“Sir, your gauntlet and recharged shield are ready. General Javel reminds you that the shield is extremely precious. In the event that you lose, you must destroy the shield to prevent it from falling into enemy hands.” One of the Ilysian Punks’ messengers reported to him.

“I understand. Send my thanks to Javel.” This is my last chance at redemption, I’m not going to let this slip away now. It’s all or nothing! “Get all squad leaders into this room. It is time for the briefing.”

With the squad leaders gathered in front of the map of the Seven Snakes district, Makoa began his explanation. The entire operation was designed in a military fashion, as many of the squad leaders were former Versia military soldiers.

“We will strike from three points – north, northwest and south. The main bulk force will be through the north, with a hundred allocated to them. Each squad will have ten members and focus on rooting out the Seven Snakes and forcing them to surrender.”

“What about civilians? We won’t know who’s supporting them or not.”

“No indiscriminate killing – we don’t want to turn the local populace against us. We’re targeting the Seven Snakes themselves. Collateral damage is fine, but under no circumstances-“

Before Makoa could continue, a sudden whizzing sound could be heard in the air, sparking an instinct long drilled into him from past wars. “MORTAR ATTACK!”

The Ilysian Punks immediately vacated the open areas, heading into the buildings around the staging area as Makoa spotted a projectile hurtling through the air towards them from the balcony. The projectile slammed into the cobblestone floor of the staging area, completely missing everybody.

“Hah! They misse-“

A billowing sphere of fire and flames burst out from the projectile, exploding in a dazzling explosion that rocked the entire area. The glass rumbled with ferocity as the shockwave rippled through the area.

Thousands of small fragments were flung in all directions from each projectile, slamming into the walls and windows, shattering them. A few unfortunate Ilysian Punks who were looking through the windows were immediately impaled by the ensuing fragments and glass shards, crying out in pain.

The characteristic tubing sound of the mortars could be heard as they sailed over the buildings slowly, raining even more fragments down onto the area. A few of the projectiles even exploded in mid-air, coating the ground with fragments.

What kind of mortar explosive is that?! What the hell is going on!

“SQUAD LEADERS, GET YOUR MEN OUT OF HERE AND LAUNCH A FULL ASSAULT!“ Makoa roared under the booming explosions. The squad leaders were all trained, immediately following the orders and bellowing commands on their respective arctech radios.

The conflict had begun.

The sounds of explosions and ensuing gunfire frightened the local residents, caught in an all-out conflict between the Seven Snakes and the Ilysian Punks.

“Can the Seven Snakes win this? What is going to happen to us when the Ilysian Punks take over?”

“I don’t even think Kyle can beat the Ilysian Punks; their entire attack force is here!”

The streets were rife with chaos as the Ilysian Punks pushed their way into the Seven Snakes district. The squads worked in a disciplined fashion, clearing the urban blocks, building by building.

In a residential building, a family of four were cowering in the room, barricading their door. “Stay quiet!” The father warned the daughters.

“Daddy, what’s happening?”

Before the father could respond, the door was slammed violently, causing the two daughters to shriek. The father and mother desperately tried to cover their mouths, but the youngest was already on the verge of tears.

Muffled voices from beyond the barricaded doors could be heard, the foreign accent of Versia clear as day. “Sir, there seems to be people in this room.”

“Smash down the door or set it on fire. Our job is to clear each marked building of Seven Snakes and those in them, we don’t have time to vet the residents. Clear the safe house, then burn everything else!”

“Yes sir.”

The Ilysian Punks were not out to wantonly kill residents, but to flush out the hideouts or safehouses of the Seven Snakes. Unfortunately for the family of four, there was a regular safehouse of the Seven Snakes located in this building, forcing the Ilysian Punks to clear it out.

Before long, a thick cloud of smoke began to waft through the seams of the barricaded door. “Daddy, the door is on fire!” The youngest cried out in a shrill voice.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, just stay calm.”

The mother was also beginning to panic, worried about the impending asphyxiation. “We need to open the windows to let the smoke out, quickly!”

“No! Don’t open the windows, they’ll-“ The father tried to stop his wife, but as soon as the mother swung the windows open, a single shot nailed her right in the chest, piercing her heart instantly. Her body felt back on to the floor, convulsing from the pain.

“FUCK!” The father yelled, quickly scrambling over to the wife. “I told you not to open the windows; they’ll think you’re trying to snipe them!”

The wife tried to reply, but could not utter a word as the bullet was lodged deep in her heart, the blood filling her innards and lungs. “Don’t worry; I’ll save you. Damian will be here in no time with a health potion, just stay awake, stay awake.” The father desperately gripped the hand of his wife as he tried to find something to stem the bleeding.

Time seemed to drag on as the continued crying of his daughters and pained breaths of his wife lasted for an eternity. The echoes of gunfire, explosions and mortars whizzing through the air were the only music he heard.

Soon, the wife’s hand lost its grip, her eyes gazing into the far beyond. The father could not say anything, only doubling over in shock.

Just as he began to sob, the sounds of the Ilysian Punks re-entering the building could be heard. “Where’s the sniper?! Which room? Blow it up!”

The father immediately racked his brains, trying to figure out an escape plan but was at a complete lost. Even if he tried to escape via the now-open windows with his daughters he would simply be shot down in a similar fashion.

He could try to put out the fire, but it would be a clear sign to the Ilysian Punks that someone was still alive in the room. Where the fuck are the Seven Snakes! Aren’t they supposed to protect the district?! The father put his ears to the wall of the room, trying to hear beyond the fire.

However, sounds of fighting suddenly could be heard beyond the crackling of flames. “It’s the Seven Snakes, kill them all!”

Gunfire and metal clashes echoed through the walls of the buildings, the cries of men falling. “Why aren’t my bullets hurting hi- ARGHHH”

A squelching sound could be heard, along with the snapping of bone. Soon, loud footsteps could be heard over the fire approaching the room. The father quickly moved from the wall, grabbing a knife from the kitchen and preparing to defend himself. “Get behind me, quickly!” He urged the daughters.

The barricaded door was suddenly wrenched apart, the fire hardly affecting the man who began to clear the barricade. “Anyone alive!?” The man roared in.

“Damian, I’m here, I’m here!”

“Alex, fuck! I’m coming in!” Damian shoved away the burnt wooden debris, running in. His eyes landed on the wife’s body, stunned. Damian tried to find the words to console him, but Alex just shook his head, tears streaming down his face.

“Alex, you need to move. We have shelters nearby. We’ll give Martha a proper burial. Think of your daughters!” Damian urged, the sounds of fighting still echoing down the streets.

Alex finally nodded in agreement, quickly hoisting up his wife’s body while Damian carried the two daughters. As Damian passed the other Seven Snakes associates in his crew who were also in the building, he ordered them to check every other room and save those whom they could.

“And grab whatever equipment you can from the dead bodies! We need everything we can to fight them off!”

The two of them ran down the open street, hugging close to the building walls. With the local enforcers keeping a wide berth of the conflict as per their agreement, there was nothing preventing both sides from devolving into a brutal conflict.

They soon reached a barricaded street, with countless sandbags and makeshift wooden palisades serving as cover. It protected a chunk of the street, where many of the local residents were already evacuated to.

Alex’s scenario was not unique, with many losing their loved ones or being forced to abandon them in the heat of the conflict. Damian grimaced as he watched the forlorn faces of those he personally knew. He had grown up in the district with Keith, after all, and many of those here were like kin to him.

“Alex, stay here with your daughters. Take shelter in the basement over there.” Damian pointed out a stairwell at the side of a building that led deeper. “We have food and water to last a few days if needed.”

However, Alex did not move, instead grabbing Damian by the shoulder, his eyes burning with revenge. “No, Damian, I don’t need food and water. I need a weapon.”

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