A Black Market LitRPG

A pellet pinged off the brick wall, marking a notch on the red clay in as the ricochet nearly took out a man in hiding, causing him to instinctively flinch while he took cover under a flipped circular table, the wooden surface already riddled with holes. His partner ducked as well behind a buffet table line, cursing under his breath as he fumbled the pellets in his handgun, his hands trembling.

“When the fuck is the backup coming?” The man whispered urgently to the partner.

“I don’t fucking know! If you would just stop asking me and focus on staying alive, maybe you’ll be able to see them arrive.” The partner shot back.

When did the Ravens fall this low? The man lamented as he peeked out from his cover, looking across the pub that was now filled with the whimpers of innocent diners cowering behind their chairs and the dead bodies of his fellow Ravens. Fuck! Where are the town guards I bribed for the last three years?!

“Step out Garreth!” A loud voice bellowed from the front of the restaurant, stemming from a group of mercenaries. “You don’t rule this town anymore!”

“Just because the Cretins are backing you doesn’t mean you’re a big shot, cocksuckers.” Garreth scowled, gripping his own handgun tightly. He glanced at his partner, who finally reloaded his handgun and nodded his head in response, their eyes locking.

“Better than your dead boys. You’re losing your grip, old man! Soon, the Ravens won’t even exist anymore once we’re done!” The leader of the mercs grinned, motioning for his men to move forward. They inched forward carefully, moving from table to table and slowly surrounding the two remaining Ravens.

Garreth held up three fingers, slowly closing each one of them in a countdown. Now!

Both of them burst out in a furry of pellets, nailing the three closest mercenaries and tearing through their armour. The previously tense restaurant burst once again into a fierce firefight, pellets dominating the air while diners suffered wounds from ricochets, some even being killed by the fanatical shooting of both sides wildly aiming.

Garreth ran from pillar to pillar, avoiding the incoming shots while firing back his own. He aimed his handgun right at the head of the leader, about to pull the trigger when he heard a wail erupting from his partner, whose body was already now seeping blood from various new holes and crumpling to the floor. “Shit!”

Before he could react, the remaining mercs had already surrounded him, holding him at gunpoint. “End of the line, Garreth. But I rather keep you alive so you can watch me takeover the rest of your dumbass Ravens.”

Garreth was tied up to a rope attached to a wagon, humiliated by the mercs in broad daylight as his body was dragged along the gravel streets of the town, while the leader of the mercs shouted out his victory.

“The Ravens aren’t the biggest fuckers in town now – I AM! And soon, I will be the king of Kregol!”

The sight was a shock to many of the civilians who watched behind barricaded windows, many too afraid to leave their houses now as instability reigned in the town. Everyone recognized that it was a hostile takeover, and no one dared to stand up for the Ravens either. Not against such firepower.e

Once the leader was satisfied with the humiliation of Garreth, he dragged Garreth back to their safehouse, tossing him into a concrete cell, his lips kissing the dusty stone floor. His body was severely bruised all over, his skin raw and torn, bleeding.

“Look! The supposed district leader! Grovelling in a cell like a dog!” The leader taunted, earning the laughter of his fellow mercenaries.

“You’re the dog.” Garreth spat back. “Sucking the toes of your Cretin daddy. How you like that Raktor dick, huh?”

His insult earned him a steel capped kick to the face, gashing his forehead as his head whiplashed back, his neck injured.

“And right now, you’re sucking my toes. How does that make you feel?” The leader pulled out a pouch of rakels, waving it in front of Garreth’s bruised face before tossing it in. “Here. I got more than enough from the Cretins. You’re going to need it. Maybe share it with your boss as well once you join him in hell. HAHAHAHA!”

“You dare - !” The door slammed shut onto Garreth’s cell before he could defend his boss’s pride.

Garreth was left alone in the cell, groaning as his body ached all over, the wounds exposed and tingling as a cold air blew across them, causing his face to twitch in both anger and pain. Fucking Ardent Cretins!

The Cretins were attempting to dominate the Kregol underworld as much as they could, and Garreth had long been aware of it. All of the Ravens’ district leaders were. He had tried everything in his power to stop the local thugs and mercs from rising up, attempting to dominate them and prevent the Cretins from shoving their way into the pie.

However, as large as the Ravens were in Kregol, they were but small fries compared to the major gangs of Raktor, especially the Ardent Cretins under Sebastian and Ares. They had subjugated every other small and medium sized gang in the county, combining them to form a loose alliance aimed at taking down the Ravens.

This led to a three month long erosion of prestige, reputation and dominance. The Cretins had been working at conquering Kregol even before the Raktor war started. Loss after loss of outlying farms, villages, towns and resource deposits all culminated in a decline in respect within the district Garreth was supposed to be in charge of. Every business decision made by any owners in the area used to go through him, but slowly but surely, more and more the district became opaque to him, their loyalties obviously shifting.

Now, the Ravens were but a shadow of themselves, shrinking over time to be no more than thirty thousand men across the county. They were still large, but the county was big, and compared to their peak of sixty thousand men, all of their former enemies were coming out of the woodwork, capitalizing on their slow death.

The assassination of their leader recently did not help as well, causing the Ravens to fracture internally. Garreth could only think back to the golden era, when the Ravens could do anything and everything they wanted in Kregol.

As he continued to reminiscence, he suddenly began to hear muffled inaudible voices shouting with clear agitation outside of his cell. He crawled over to the opposing wall, placing his ear against the cold concrete.

“Hey! Who the fuck are you! Don’t you know the Cretins are protect-“

A sickly squishing sound could be heard, the man’s voice cut short before sounds of fighting and tables cracking could only be heard with intermittent grunts and gargles of blood. The fight only lasted a minute, before the door to Garreth’s cell was suddenly ripped open, revealing three armored soldiers, though one wore an armour suit that was clearly distinct from the other two. All of them were coated in copious amount of bloods, the result of what looked like a splash.

Before Garreth could react, a green arcia energy surged forth from the first soldier, healing him slowly but surely. He already felt better, his bleeding stopped for the time being.

“You two, sweep the town with the other three. Don’t let any stragglers get away – kill all of them. Save the Ravens.”

Save the Ravens…? He began to slowly slip away into unconsciousness, until he was slapped right in the face by the first soldier.

“District Leader Garreth?” The first soldier asked.

“…w…who’s asking?” Garreth weakly replied.

“An enemy of the Ardent Cretins.”

Enemy? Gareth didn’t recall any other enemy of the Cretins within Kregol itself. However, the hidden meaning was clear as day to Gareth, who quickly realized who the first soldier was.

“Tell your leader that I want a negotiation by the end of today, in this town. Got it?”

Garreth nodded immediately, already willing to take any lifesaving chance he could get his hands on. The first soldier left quickly, leaving Garreth alone in the cell once more.

Thanks to the healing, he could finally walk once more, stepping out of the cell only to see a ghastly scene in front of him. The former mercenary safehouse was now turned into a splatter of meat and flesh, as though human bodies had been exploded from within. My god, what the hell happened here?

The sheer power of the soldiers frightened Garreth deeply, making him rush to the nearest Raven safehouse with haste. The streets were no longer filled with customers and stall owners, all having gone into hiding to avoid the skirmishes that were breaking out all over town.

As he approached the safehouse, he noticed a pile of bodiescoating the stairwell that led downwards, a small waterfall of blood trickling down to the entrance. Garreth recognized them, knowing that they were small-time thugs bought out by the Cretins as well. Is every gang in this town attacking us now?

Just outside the door was a young Raven soldier, panting as he gripped a handgun tightly, his face covered in grime and sweat. “Garreth! You’re alive!” The young Raven exclaimed.

“What happened here? Did you kill all of them?”

“I wished – there were two other strangers in full armour that helped me. Did you hire mercenaries?”

Garreth didn’t know what to say, but nodded his head for the time being. “Let me in, I need to call the boss now!”

The safehouse was filled with the groans of injured Ravens, with barely any medical treatment as they simply lay on the floor, pus oozing out of their wounds. Garreth strode past all of them, quickly heading for the office where an arctech radio was directly connected to the leader.

The moment the call connected on the other side, Garreth spoke rapidly into the radio. “Put me through to the boss, now!”

[Sir Garreth, you know that it has not yet been determined who will inherit the mantle yet.]

“You and I both know who the successor is. Put him on the line now!”

[I’m listening.] A lady’s voice responded. [Speak.]

Garreth explained everything that he had seen and heard, also passing on the message of the negotiation.

[Who are the strangers who helped us?]

“I… I do not know. But they have saved the Ravens in this town, while eliminating the other minor gangs. They seem to be at war with the Cretins.”

[So, another major gang from Raktor? Were they not all united together? This could be a ploy by the Cretins to get me out for another assassination attempt.]

“I truly believe this is our way out. Right now we cannot hope to fight against a Cretin-backed alliance. If we can find our own allies who would support us, then we can climb back to power!”

[My father was adamant about not succumbing to others. Ravens have their own pride, Garreth. I see you have lost yours.]

“Damn this pride if every men and women dies under my command!” Garreth shot back. “We are at a war for survival – every chance and opportunity has to be snatched! I called for backup, yet none arrived.”

[Our manpower is spread thin. You are not the only town under attack!]

“Then it is exactly why it is time to find allies! We cannot hold on indefinitely forever!”

The lady did not respond immediately, remaining silent as Garreth fumed to himself. “Be a better leader – think of the people under your command! Only with power can you afford pride!”

[Indeed. The two do come hand in hand. Tell the strangers that I will meet them tonight at the town, but not alone.]