A Black Market LitRPG

A week later…

“Why hasn’t the shopping arcade been taken over yet! They should be bankrupt by now!” The chairman tapped the table with his fingernails rasping against the hardwood.

A wave of murmurs spread through the table, where more than two dozen business owners sat. “I say it’s due to us letting incompetent twats into the prestigious South Sector Business Owner Union of Raktor. Unable to even enforce a simple sanction against an uppity upstart, pah!” An older gentleman grumbled as he chewed vigorously before hacking out a large glob of spit tainted with crushed leaves into a spit bowl.

“Indeed! Back in my time, we would just hit every store and shop they owned, no questions asked. Why, we used to burn down entire villages just to kill the supply chains!” Another elder chimed in, nodding vigorously.

“Shut up, old fart! The enforcers might be looking the other way right now, but if we go that far, who knows if the Mad Dog would be unleashed on us.”

A visible shudder spread through the business owners. The tale of the Mad Dog had spread far and wide through the South Sector, her undying thirst for violence unsatiable. Many saw her brutality as a much-needed reprieve from the stranglehold that the gangs held over the city.

But for the owners, they knew if they were caught and exposed, there would be no mercy from her. “I heard she had been posted to the West Sector.”

“Ah, no doubt to keep the two major gangs under control. That brings me some relief knowing that she’s far away.”

“Still, the Seven Snakes are on very good terms with the enforcers. Let’s not give them any ammunition with which to charge us.”

The chairman gritted his teeth. “All this useless bickering won’t do us any good! I want to know how to take down the Seven Snakes and fast!”

The owners all nodded, grim expressions plastered on their faces. It had been three long weeks of continuous refusal to supply any business of the Seven Snakes, harassing other smaller companies into siding with the union instead, and even hiring thugs to disrupt the deliveries.

“We need to put more effort into forming a blockade. We must be united in this aspect, otherwise, just hijacking a few deliveries here and there is not going to make a dent in their finances!”

Someone scoffed from across the table. “United? How dare you say united when I’ve personally seen thugs hired by Solomon hijacking my delivery wagon!”

Solomon was startled, glancing around rapidly in confusion. “Me? I haven’t hired any thugs in a week!”

“Don’t bullshit me! If anything, I would think that you are working as a double agent!” The rival owner continued to accuse Solomon.

The eyebrow on Solomon’s face twitched slightly. “You dare accuse me?! I think it is you who incited my workers to revolt against me just last week!”

As the two bickered on the table, a sense of disunity began to spread through the other owners. “Speaking of that, Deliah, I’ve noticed you’ve begun to poach my farmers.” A sturdy man accused a well-dressed lady in a frill blue Victorian-style dress.

The lady smirked, unfolding her blue fan and hiding her face. “Whatever do you mean? I simply offered them a better price.”

“How dare you? The situation is already as bad as it is, with many businesses moving over to the Seven Snakes district! Why are you contesting me?!”

“Just because we’re in a union does not mean it’s a fixed market, darling. Supply and demand. Haven’t you learnt that when you failed in Tryas?”

“You…!”

“ENOUGH!” The chairman slammed the table, interrupting the bickering occurring between the owners. “There is no reason to compete with each other! If we can take down the Seven Snakes, there’ll be a bigger pie for all of us to share!”

The owners grumbled amongst each other, nodding uncommittedly. The cracks between the owners were starting to show, fuelled by the accusations lobbied at each other.

Solomon gave a slight wink to his rival, who winked back in return. They had planned this from the start, planning to draw out the hidden actions that each company had actually been doing to each other. Both of them were already working for Kyle.

The union was made up of a loose gathering of companies – but they were primarily competitors with each other. The chairman tried to convince them for a while longer before they finally dispersed. He sighed to himself, watching the owners leave the meeting hall, with only one person remaining on the other end of the long table.

The person nodded his head at the chairman, permitting him to approach. “I hope you have labelled those who were clearly incompetent. Many of their businesses are about to falter just from such a simple economic sanction of just three weeks. What a rubbish business model.” The person remarked.

The chairman wiped his forehead, his hand clearly trembling. “Sebastian, I don’t think we can hold the sanctions for another month. My businesses may be stable for now, but eventually, the Seven Snakes will come to dominate.”

“I know.” Sebastian smiled gently as he leaned back into his chair. “I never expected Kyle to give up that easily.”

“What?!” The chairman was stunned. “Then what was the point of all of this?!”

“To weed out the incompetent among us. To strengthen the South Sector as a whole. To buy time. There are plenty of reasons, chairman.” Sebastian took out three rolls of blueprints, laying them out on the table.

The chairman walked over to take a look, gasping. “This… this is the construction blueprints from the Seven Snakes for the shopping arcade! How did you get your hands on it?”

“Kyle would like to believe his gang is water-tight. Everyone has a price, do they not? Your sanction has bought enough time for me to build my own rival shopping arcade, with a few improvements. Naturally, you will have a share and first dibs on any property development next to it.”

Sebastian had never planned to implement a long-term economic sanction – it was simply to put enough pressure on the Seven Snakes and stall their growth while the Ardent Cretins reverse-engineered the design of the shopping arcade.

The chairman’s previously confused face slowly turned into the expression of a man who had nailed a deal. “I understand, Sebastian. The longer the sanction…”

“The higher chance you have to knock out your competitors within the union itself. Absorb those who fall to the wayside or are unable to handle the economic pressure. Those that survive will have proven their business model; the rest will be subservient to you.”

General Javel gasped for air as he jolted awake in his cot, internally frightened by the sounds of footsteps coming down through the prison corridor. He huddled into a corner as the arctech lantern’s light began to cast shadows of the corner, eventually shining right onto his malnourished figure.

“Please, no more! I have told you everything!” Javel shouted in fear as he peeked his eyes, noticing a hooded figure with a backpack slung across his back.

“Javel, it is me.” The hooded figure pull the hood back, revealing a scarred face. Javel nearly cried for joy when he recognised the voice and face.

“Brother Xan, I thought you had forsaken me!”

“Why would I? We swore an oath that day. Get up. I’m taking you to the border.”

Javel quickly complied, more than happy to leave the stinking prison cell that had housed him for more than a month. All he could recall over the fleeting days were countless hours of torture and interrogations.

Xan quickly helped clothe him, unashamed of Javel’s sickly form. The two had been through much worse in the wars before. “Have you ensured our escape route?” Javel asked with a tinge of panic as they walked out of the cell, glancing at all the other prisoners who were fast asleep in their cells, either knocked unconscious or passed out from the tough slave labour.

“I have prepared a wagon that can take us all the way to the border, which you will then be on your own. That’s as far as I can go.”

“I understand.” Javel nodded. Xan was the insider he had in the military, having risen up through the ranks. It was the only way the Ilysian Punks were able to nab that many shipments without the military detecting most of them.

The two of them walked right through the exit, coming face to face with the prison guards who watched the gate. “General Xan? What are you doing here?” The prison warden questioned, astonished. The general and the shivering prisoner made for a weird sight, especially in the dead of night, raising suspicions among the prison guards.

“I’m transferring the prisoner to a separate prison. This is a top-level military mission. Do not leak of this transfer – Versia agents may try to intercept this wagon. This is why it must be done now.”

“Ah, I understand. Yes, sir. Open the gate!” The warden nodded his head, saluting General Xan.

Outside the gate, an arctech wagon was already waiting for the two of them. General Xan helped Javel into the back before getting into the driver’s seat and riding off into the forest.

“Where… where are we?” Javel had no clue where he had been imprisoned, kept in the dark the entire time when he was a prisoner.

“Just beyond Raktor, near the Versia border. We will arrive in three hours. For now, get some rest. There is an arctech handgun at the back, be prepared to use it if anything goes wrong.”

Javel nodded, taking a much-needed rest. However, a sudden jolting shook him right awake again as the wagon screeched to a halt, with the sounds of people surrounding the wagon with bright arctech lights, illuminating the cloth that covered the wagon.

“Who are you people? Do you know you are obstructing a Yual Dominion general?!” Xan got out of the wagon, his hand on the pistol on his belt as he glared at the eighteen assailants who surrounded him. They were all equipped with state-of-the-art military gear, their face masked to protect their identity.

The assailants did not respond, instead raising their repeaters and aiming them at Xan, who performed a quickdraw and fired off three rapid shots before the assailants could react, causing their projectile defence armour to flare green.

Xan dashed into the treeline, using the tree trunks as cover as a hailstorm of projectiles showered the forest, cracking branches and punching holes through leaves as they fell.

Xan stuck his hand out to fire a few blind shots in their general direction, flinching as the bark near his head was stripped off by a near shot. Pinned down by the suppressing fire, Xan could only watch as the other assailants approached the back of the wagon, easily dragging the weak Javel out.

“Shit, Javel!”

“You should worry about yourself.” A familiar voice spoke from behind Xan, causing him to turn and throw a punch in that direction instinctively. However, it was immediately grabbed by a strong grip, with Xan only seeing the world swirl around him as he was flung onto the ground by sheer strength

His military training kicked in, quickly recovering and rolling out of the way.

“I had a few people in mind on my list. You were especially hard to get to, being all cooped up inside your military fort.”

Resuming a shooter position, he fired the remainder of his shots at the familiar figure.

The projectile defence armour of the man flared to life, blocking all the shots. Xan tried to reload, but the man was faster, lunging forward with a sharp engraved sword and stabbing into Xan’s shoulder, causing him to shout in pain.

Xan fell onto the floor, with the tip of the sword still pressing into his flesh as the man placed one foot on top of him.

“General Xan. Hero of the 1st Yual – Versia War, yet here you are, betraying the very Emperor you swore an oath to serve. You know, I was worried I would be only getting reparations from Versia for this entire incident. But thanks to you finally leaving your damn fort, I have the best catalyst I can think of.”

“I swore an oath to protect peace!” Xan spat on the man’s face, whose projectile defence flared to life again, neutralising the spit.

“An interesting worldview. What made a peaceful general turn to illegally smuggling weapons to the enemy? Surely that would create more problems than solve them.”

“Don’t try to fool me. The only reason why the Yual Dominion continuously lusts for Versia territory is due to its smaller military. You are no different from your father before you, Count Leon. Do not think I don’t know you are eyeing an expansion!”

Count Leon scoffed. “And you thought balancing the scales of technology would make up for it? That by establishing equal power, you could balance the world? To limit growth?”

“It is better than petitioning against an uncaring Emperor and a greedy Count! The nobles only think in terms of gains and losses, so why can’t I amplify the potential losses?”

Count Leon’s eyes squinted. “Be careful, General Xan. It might be one thing for a citizen of Raktor to speak ill of the Emperor, but a general won’t be let off so easily.”

“Just kill me and be over with it.”

“Oh no, I have better plans for you. You,” Count Leon spoke to one of his underlings. “Is the lightcapturer ready?”

“Yes sir, all working.” The underling hauled a large machine. Xan recognised it immediately, but he still could not figure out what was going on.

“Good. Drag Javel here as well. You two, put on these emblems.” Count Leon grabbed two Versia Emblems from his front pocket. Xan eyes widened as two of the assailants began to masquerade as Versia soldiers.

“What in Yual’s name are you trying to do?!” Xan tried to lift his body up, but the sword pierced even deeper into his shoulder.

“Smile for the lens, Xan. Today, you die a hero. Be happy! For the war sparked for your sake shall be glorious.”

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