A Black Market LitRPG

Five days later, at the Lusty Arcian…

“What? We’re expanding the brothel again?” Slavin was shocked, with Keith presenting the numbers to him.

“We have more than enough funds now to purchase a few more floors. We’ll do it slowly, but the end goal is an entire building. Any problems?” Keith smiled.

“Of course not; I assume half of the floors is to serve as a front for the brothel?”

“Indeed, your… beauty school has been quite useful in providing ample evidence for the enforcers to ignore this location. However, the brothel is still slightly underdefended.” Keith recalled the last time the Red Lions attacked the brothel.

The Ilysian Punks was still snooping around the district, and they’ve already tried to flush out the Seven Snakes from the businesses. However, the increased defence has been able to protect the businesses thus far, so it was not a big issue.

With the war looming on the horizon, Keith also asked Slavin to hire a few mercenaries just in case of a backlash. Even though they were in a temporary alliance with the enforcers, it did not mean the enforcers would help them to defend their district or come to their aid in a fight.

There was no doubt among the Seven Snakes that the enforcers were more than willing to let dogs eat dogs.

Keith began to pack up his documents into a briefcase, wearing his suit. Slavin examined him, a sense of nostalgia hitting him as he recalled how young Keith and Damian were when they first joined the Seven Snakes.

“Where are you heading to next?”

“Oh, one of the safehouses. I have to calculate how much spare cash we have in case we need to replace any of the new equipment. Why?”

“I’ll escort you.”

“No need, I already have two associates with me posted by Niko.” Keith motioned with his hand towards the window.

“Ah, a big shot now, huh? My little Keith all grown up. Let me escort you, it’s not safe around the district now with the Ilysian Punks attacking every other day.”

This chapter upload first at NovelUsb.Com

Keith finally relented, the four of them leaving the Lusty Arcian and walking through the streets. There was a palpable tension in the air as people scurried away or around them. “The probing attacks has the locals spooked,” Slavin noted.

“While our defence has been rock solid so far, the Ilysian Punks is not really mobilizing their entire force. They are trying to grind us down and erode the support we’ve garnered over the last few months. It was already hard enough to repair our broken reputation from Ulon’s legacy, but no one wants to get caught up in the wars.” Keith spoke with an air of clarity, having learnt a thing or two from Kyle.

“You know, didn’t you use to dream of being a scholar in one of the top universities?” Slavin suddenly changed the subject. “I even remember Damian saying he would be the security guard of that university which you chose.”

Keith felt an embarrassing cringe come over his body as he involuntarily shudder. “Don’t remind me of that! Those were dreams of a naïve boy lost in his own world, oblivious to the workings of the city.”

“I don’t think it is a naïve dream. Maybe even with the help of the gang, you could get in still.” Slavin joked.

“A Seven Snakes scholarship? That’ll be the day. I don’t even think I want to waste that kind of money on myself.” Keith chuckled in response.

“Or maybe even Kyle might open a university just for you. A pretty good place to clean some money by spending it on ridiculous projects, don’t you think?”

“That’s a bit too farfetched, I think, Kyle wouldn’t-“ Keith suddenly stopped talking, noticing three foreign individuals standing opposite the street, glancing at them as they smoked their pipes.

Slavin also immediately noticed them. It was hard not to – everyone knew almost everyone here in these parts. As for the Seven Snakes, it was their job to know who’s going in and out of the district.

“We need to move quickly.” Slavin urged Keith on, picking up the pace.

The three foreigners also began to follow along. Their jackets flapped in the wind as they strutted, with one of them having his hand permanently in the inner pocket of his jacket. They trailed behind Keith, Slavin and the two Seven Snakes associates down the long street.

Just as they approached one of the main junctions, Keith and Slavin suddenly darted into an alleyway while the two accompanying Seven Snakes associates pulled out their metal pipes and approached the three foreigners, who were equally unafraid.

“New to Raktor?” One of the Seven Snakes associates jeered towards the foreigners. “If you need a map, I know somewhere you can buy it.”

The three foreigners did not reply, instead immediately pulling out their arctech pistols and firing bursts of projectiles that shredded the outside suit of the associates, knocking them over. “Hide the bodies in the alleyway.” One of the foreigners ordered the other two.

“Yes, captain.” The other two foreigners moved forward to hoist the two Seven Snakes associates up. Just as they bent over, the two associates lifted their waists up and use their legs to clamp around the necks of the foreigners, grappling them to the ground.

The suits of the associates were ripped in shreds, revealing a hidden Seven Snakes breastplate that managed to block the projectiles coming in. As the two tumbled and tussled on the ground, the foreigner captain did not stop to help his comrades, instead running towards the alleyway Keith and Slavin entered.

As he rounded the corner, a fist came hurtling toward his face, with his battle instincts kicked in and narrowly dodging it. Caught off guard by the fist, he nearly lost his balance as he dodged yet another punch from Slavin, who had been waiting for him around the corner.

The foreigner captain rolled onto the ground before regaining his stance, pulling out an engraved knife. Slavin’s eyes squinted as he recognized the knife. “So, the Ilysian Punks finally are pulling out the big guns.”

“Shut it, Yual scum.” The captain spat as he lunged with precision, targeting Slavin’s vitals and organs with the discipline of a military soldier. Slavin blocked as much as he could, but he was no match for the captain, his arms and legs being shredded by cuts and stabs. Despite the one-sided fight, Slavin was still grinning.

“Smiling before your death? Happy to meet your fictional divine emperor?” The captain mocked.

“Never believed in that, but I know you’re here for Keith. I’m just a small fry, so the longer I hold out here, it’s my win regardless.” Slavin smirked.

“You make it sound like we only brought three of us.”

Keith ran as hard as he could, panting as he could feel the cold air of the city searing his lungs with every breath he took. He had not been doing the physical training routine due to his duties with the finances, but he was now regretting not even practising running. His calves and thighs burned as he ran for more than five minutes at a near sprint speed. Just a bit more!

As he turned the corner of the alleyway into the area of one of the known safehouses, he was immediately grabbed by a burly hand, covering his mouth and preventing him from screaming out loud.

Keith’s eyes could already see half of the safehouse guards taken out, with the other Ilysian Punks fending off the Seven Snakes’ associates. Niko was fighting off as many as he could, but they were outgunned and outmatched in terms of combat ability. Niko noticed Keith being captured at the back, roaring out in anger. “KEITH!”

A quick chop to the back of the neck, followed by an uppercut into Niko’s chin knocked him out for good. “We’ve got the target, retreat!”

Keith gasped for air as a bucket of ice-cold water was splashed onto his face, causing the locks of his blonde hair to droop down, clinging to his cheeks. He tried shifting his arms, but he was bound to a chair with tight ropes and metal handcuffs.

He glanced around the room, only to notice a heavily tattooed man sitting in a chair in front of him, a wild grin plastered on the man’s face. The man was flanked by three guards, the one holding the bucket being the same captain that caught him.

“Makoa,” Keith muttered, recognising the top dog of the Ilysian Punks.

“You don’t seem surprised at all,” Makoa remarked as he observed the calm expression on Keith’s face.

“I always knew this was a possibility.”

“I could tell from the ferocity of your guards. Too bad they were lacking.”

“Just get this over with it.”

Makoa chuckled. “What a brave little kid. You can still work for the Ilysian Punks if you want to. Both you and your brother can transfer over – as long as you spill the beans on where the guns are. Don’t think I don’t know you guys were planning to attack us.”

“What guns?” Keith played dumb, wearing a confused look.

“And here I thought we were on the same page. The hard way it is, then.” Makoa motioned with his hand, prompting two guards to move forward and wrap Keith’s head in a rucksack before tilting the chair over into a basin of water behind.

The water surged around the rucksack, clinging to his face and evoking the instinctive fear of drowning. Keith’s body convulsed as he fought against the restraint of the chair, but the two guards held him firmly down, watching Keith thrash for a good twenty seconds before pulling him out.

Loud gasps for air filled the room as Keith choked involuntarily. “Are you ready now?” Makoa remarked.

Keith coughed out water but still wore a weak smile under the drenched rucksack. “That’s all you guys got?”

Makoa laughed out loud. “You got balls, kid. Let me know when you’re ready to talk, hmm? You two, keep going until he’s done.”

Keith gritted his teeth as he felt the chair tilt back once again, his mind holding onto hope that his older brother and Kyle would come to save him. Makoa won’t kill me. As long as I hold on…

Makoa and the captain left the room, walking through the Ilysian Punks’ hideout. “The kid knows we’re not going to kill, so make sure to bring him to the brink. If he ever goes too far, heal him slightly and continue. Break his mind.” Makoa ordered.

“Just like we did it in Versia.” The captain nodded. The two of them walked down a hallway towards the double door. The sounds of cheering and booing could be heard from beyond.

Makoa opened the doors, revealing an underground boxing arena with nearly ten thousand viewers in the audience, screaming at the fighters going toe to toe with deadly weapons in the bloodstained ring.

“COME ON, YOU IDIOT, I SPENT MY WEEK’S PAY ON YOU. DON’T LET ME DOWN!”

“JUST DIE ALREADY CUNT!”

The viewers jeered and roared as the fighters threw swings, jabs, stabs and kicks at each other, battling it out in a bloody gladiator duel. Makoa ignored the spectacle, instead walking towards the VIP viewing area, where five servants had already prepared a spread of food and drinks for him, laid out on a glass table in front of a velvet sofa adorned with scantily clad ladies.

“What about the Seven Snakes? Most likely, they will try to attack us to free Keith.” The captain asked as Makoa sat down on the sofa.

Makoa grinned as he picked up a glass of whiskey, swirling it. “They have no idea where we are, so how could they ever find us? With our observers watching the moves of all their higher-ups, the moment Kyle makes a move himself, we’ll know in a split second. If they strike out, we’ll swarm their district in one fell swoop and destroy all their businesses even before the Red Lions and the Wretches know what is happening.”

“So Keith is the emotional bait.”

“Exactly. He must not die; we must continue to dangle him in front of them. No matter whatever moves they make, they’ll lose in the end.”