A Black Market LitRPG

Damian scooped with a ladle, pouring fresh soup into a bowl before handing it over to a dishevelled young man. “There’s bread to go with it – go over to that young man there.” He pointed to Niko, who was busy serving an endless queue of homeless squatters, desperate for free food.

“Thank you so much!” The man bowed respectfully, before joining the queue. Damian smiled, before serving the next in line. The Seven Snakes had booked out an area near the food market, spreading the word through the locals that they were offering free meals to those in need, no questions asked. There were obviously a few who feigned poverty just to save a few rakels, but it did not matter. The cost of the soup kitchen was barely a dent in their finances.

Some of the nearby food stall owners complained about the surge in homeless people who smelled like rotten eggs, but the local people in general looked favourably on the initiative. Neither the enforcers nor the Sanctum of Yual hardly did anything like this, and if they did, it would always lead to a conversion of some sort. Many of the homeless did not want to be exploited or tangled up in some religious mess, so they were more than appreciative of what the Seven Snakes were doing now.

Monica and Adrian soon entered the soup kitchen with a few others, all of them panting as they held brooms and large buckets filled with trash picked up from the side of the street. “Good work, take a breather and head out to the next street when you’re ready. We got to clean up the next three streets before nightfall.”

“THREE?!” Monica was about to lose her mind while Adrian hastily tried to calm her down. “We’ve been sweeping the entire day!”

“Better than wasting your life away making swill in random buildings, no?” Damian smirked. “You’ll get used to it.”

Monica seriously contemplated running away with her crew, but Eric was trapped inside the Seven Snakes base, spending almost all his time in the new brewery. She had an inkling Eric did not actually want to leave and began to weigh whether her freedom was worth ditching Eric.

“Psst, Adrian, you wanna try to escape later?”

“Escape?” Adrian pondered for a moment, the hesitation clear on his face.

“What? Don’t tell me you like taking orders from these cunts.”

“I don’t, but to be honest, they are doing something good here.” Adrian motioned to the soup kitchen. “I used to be a squatter myself before you recruited me, you know that. What they have now is nothing short of amazing to me. And I really feel much better and at ease doing something upright here.”

Monica scoffed. “They are doing this so they can collect information across the district through the squatters and scout potential recruits. You know this!”

“Doesn’t change the fact they are getting free meals. At least they are alive.”

While Monica and Adrian bickered, a Seven Snakes associate ran up to Damian. “Sir, Boss Kyle wants to meet you in his office right now.”

Damian immediately dropped everything, handing his role over to another before making it back to the base. As he entered the office, Keith and Kyle were already discussing something important that shocked Damian.

“You want to venture out beyond the city?” Damian exclaimed in surprise. “But why now? We just secured our ownership of the district.”

“What we have right now is not enough. Even with the in-house brewery, potion contracts, new casinos and pubs, it would be impossible to clear the massive debt we have now. If we default on that debt, everything we own right now would be up for grabs from the Crimson Swords.” Keith explained.

Damian sighed, crossing his arms as he looked at the map of the nearby regions around the city of Raktor. “So, what can you possibly get outside the city that can benefit you? Everyone from the villages came to the city to make money – moving back outside doesn’t make any financial sense.”

“That’s not true.” Kyle pointed to a few regions nearby. “Every resource and commodity within the city is harvested or collected from the outlying villages or monster regions. For example, Keith and I have been tracking the production of Yul’s Tears which we use for our Strength Potion. It’s extremely inefficient and requires adventurers to forage for it in the mountains.”

“If you manage to get a stable supply, undercutting the market would bring eyes to us again. Aren’t we limiting ourselves to this district for now because of Sebastian’s warning and the Inquisitors?”

“Indeed, which is why we need to establish a shell company that will begin to supply the other Sectors. We need a front to deflect attention while collecting the money. In short, the production of raw material should be industrialized, allowing us to reap the profit from economies of scale.”

“But what material should we be targeting?” Damian tried to rack his head. There were so many materials that they could focus on, but which one would provide the most profit?

“Keith?” Kyle motioned with his hand.

“Yes, sir, the report you asked for on individual consumption is ready. While the sample size is limited to this district alone, consumption of Euria seeds for personal enjoyment is quite high. Nearly 15% of the population smokes it right now. Food tops the chart, but the ingredients used are far too diverse to compete against Euria seeds.”

Damian quickly raised an objection. “Wait, wait, wait. Shouldn’t we be targeting ‘prohibited’ stuff? Maybe like the raw ingredients for alcohol, or arcia itself? What about Yul’s Tears? That’s expensive.”

“The objective of this expedition is not to spook any gang or enforcers. We don’t have a clear picture of how the other gangs are getting their supply, so doing anything related is slightly dangerous.” Kyle had clearly learnt his lessons from moving too fast. He had assumed this world was a simple pushover, but it was far more intricate than he thought. It was not going to be that easy to climb the ranks.

“Yul’s Tears directly affect the Alchemist Guild, so doing anything related to that would make Haui’s partnership and protection meaningless.” Kyle continued. “I am willing to consider legal ventures as a way to make money.”

It was not rare for criminal gangs to operate legitimate businesses. It helped to both obfuscate and complicate investigations into how far the criminal network spread. Kyle also considered it as a diversification of revenue beyond just illegal stuff.

“Okay, so Euria Seeds. There are a few plantations of the stuff nearby, but nothing of large scale yet, which is why it is relatively expensive. Probably impossible to buy them over with our current cash reserves.” Damian pondered. “Euria Trees are native to the Culdao Peaks. However, it is infested with monsters, mostly goblins.”

“Goblins?” Kyle was confused.

“Yea, small little deformed things, extremely primitive. There are a couple of dens around the area. Some adventurers have them estimated at two hundred per den. Very territorial. There’s a small little town nearby where you can gather some information. Most of the adventurers have a base there.” Damian pointed to a mark on the map.

Kyle remained quiet for a while, contemplating. “Can the goblins understand human language?”

“Only very basic words, but yes, communication is possible. However, they generally kill on sight, so it’s preferred to avoid them where possible. You’re not planning anything funny, are you?”

Kyle let out a small little grin, the same one whenever he had a plan in play. A slight shudder went down Damian’s spine. Why do I feel bad for the goblins now?

At the edge of the West Sector, it was one of the major entrances into the city of Raktor. Thousands of caravans dragged by horses and donkeys went to and fro, passing by the immigration checkpoints.

A timetable lit up in dull blue arcia lines showed all the private transportation services to nearby villages, towns and even other cities. Passengers wearing thick winter coats and dragging their luggage ran down the crowded cobblestone street, trying to find their assigned caravan.

Adventurers, mercenaries and local gang members from the Veiled Angels were hanging around as well, as well as local enforcers who performed random inspections on passing cargo. There seemed to be a sort of tacit agreement between the Veiled Angels and the local enforcers – any wagon marked by the gang was not inspected at all, or at least the enforcers closed one eye when they saw what was inside.

A lone cloaked man held onto a thin ticket detailing the time and destination. He squinted at the timetable, trying to decipher the myriad of lines that changed rapidly.

“LAST CALL! LAST CALL FOR CULDAO PEAKS TOWN!” A young boy yelled with a loudspeaker as he stood on top of a stack of boxes. “AT BERTH 19-C RIGHT NOW!”

The cloaked man shifted the backpack on his back and began to move, slightly confused by the sheer amount of travellers and peddlers shouting at the top of their lungs, selling goods and potions of all sorts.

“Sleeping Potions! Don’t get woken up by snores or even a bandit attack! It ain’t worth your time! Just let them rob the others!”

“A headband engraved with a silence skill! Why even tolerate the dumb idiots in your wagon wagging their tongues? Get one now for five hundred rakels!”

“Afraid of your wagon and cargo being overturned? Hostile monsters got you surrounded? Don’t worry; our emergency response mercenary team got you and your merchant business covered. Simply activate the device in trouble, and our nearest patrol will respond immediately, no matter the threat. Only for the low, low cost of two hundred thousand rakels!”

The cloaked man shoved his way through the dense crowd, pushing past weary travellers and dumb tourists from the towns and villages gaping at the sight of the city. He soon made it to Berth 19, where a gruff man in dirty overalls was impatiently tapping his foot as he leaned against the metal-spoked wheels of a covered wagon dragged by two horses. His eyes glanced at the cloaked man, eventually landing on the flimsy ticket he was holding.

“You the guy I’ve been waiting for?”

“Yes, is this the transport to Culdao Peaks?”

“Finally! Get on. I’m already ten minutes behind schedule. My boss is going to whip my ass if I run any later.” The gruff man motioned to the back of the wagon, where there were already five others sitting in place.

The cloaked man gingerly entered the wagon and placed his backpack on the floor, nodding with respect to the other passengers before sitting down quietly. The other five were already engaged in a seemingly heated debate as the wagon moved out from the berth, the cobblestones causing the seats to rumble violently as it jerked back and forth.

“Look, I don’t know what kind of Euria you’ve been sniffing, but there’s no chance in hell the Inquisitors are going to allow any sort of gang or secret society from existing in Raktor again. Mark my words; it’ll be a short few years till Raktor will finally be cleansed!” One of the more wealthy passengers, who seemed to be a merchant, scoffed. “I rather have a healthy business environment rather than a dangerous one when I have to succumb to the gangs.”

“You really believe that? First time in Raktor? Hundreds of inquisitors have come and gone. This time ain’t any different. They only come in when the nobles’ pockets are being threatened or they are looking to expand. To me, the bans are ridiculous and just a façade for the enforcers to take in anyone – no one outside of the major city even adheres to it.” Another merchant rebutted him angrily.

“I agree. The bans are far too ridiculous and should be lifted.” A third merchant chimed in.

“Prostitution is a sin! Drunkenness is a sin as well!” The first merchant angrily wagged his finger at the other two. “This world is sorely lacking in morals, and I, for one, am glad the Inquisitors are here to purge them!”

The wagon suddenly came to a halt, with two Sanctum enforcers checking for their identity. Each of the passengers handed over their identity card as well as a city permit.

“Kris Greyborn…” The enforcer looked at the face of the cloaked man, comparing it to the identity card. He was a bit suspicious, but the enforcer couldn’t be bothered to pursue the matter, signalling to the front to let the wagon pass. The cloaked man let out a sigh of relief internally. Guess I haven’t been marked yet by the enforcers.

Kyle stared out of the back of the wagon, looking at the towering stone walls engraved with various glyphs, boosting its defence. It wasn’t until they had moved far away enough up a hilly slope that he truly saw the scale of the city, sprawling across a large area with a massive river flowing through it.

Finally, I’m out of the city.