A Black Market LitRPG

Chapter 3: Carving Out A Market

Kyle’s entire body was aching. He had overexerted himself during the fight, and his muscles were screaming out for rest. He sat in an opulent red velvet chair, the bloodstains from yesterday long gone and replaced with a clean formal suit.

He was in Ulon’s private room, now obviously his. It was filled with useless trinkets, trophies and a gaudy stuffed head of a wildlife Kyle had never seen before. All extremely distracting and a waste of time, in his opinion.

It’s been slightly more than a day since he arrived in the city of Raktor, somehow waking up in another person’s body, along with a holographic interface reminiscent of VR games.

It’s far too real to be a VR game…. Kyle pondered as he checked his face in the mirror, looking nothing like how he did in the past. His face no longer had the perfection of designer genes cultivated over centuries.

The first rule of thumb for Kyle when entering an unknown and potentially hostile environment was to gain safety first. By instantaneously taking out Ulon, he had temporarily secured his position as a gang leader, albeit of a small one but easier to control and tweak to his preference. Twenty weak members are hardly enough to serve as a buffer against enemies…

Efficiency was the name of the game when one wanted to be a galactic crime lord. Kyle did not beat around the bush, immediately coming up with a simple step-by-step plan.

1. Build a solid base/group of people to perform menial labour and reach a position preferably on the same level as his previous titles. Remain hidden from the big powers as much as possible.
2. Find a niche market to sell, preferably illegal, so as to exploit profit margins. Scale up and dominate the market, as well as ensure no competition.
3. Figure how the hell did he survive/woke up in another person’s body

There is also the issue of the gang I attacked when I arrived. No doubt they would come knocking sooner or later. Kyle surmised. The Red Lions seemed to be a much larger gang from what he learnt, controlling four districts in the South Sector. He needed to potentially prepare for war.

In order to protect himself and his followers, he would need money. Most likely lots of it. And he would need it extremely soon, with the Red Lions poised to pounce if the Seven Snakes showed any more weakness. Until then, he had to remain low. Kyle winced as he tried to move his arms, sore from exhaustion.

On his neck was the Necklace of Healing, which he still had no idea how to activate.

He also had no idea how to access the purple box properly. He tried swiping with his hands. When that didn’t work, he tried it verbally. “Holographic Interface. Menu. System. Statistics.”

As soon as he said the last word, the statistics appeared in front of him.

Kyle tried to focus on activating the necklace, which suddenly did the trick. The same green aura enveloped his body, healing him by a tiny amount.

It, however did not do anything to alleviate the exhaustion his muscles felt. Kyle surmised that being tired was not considered health damage and as such, could not be healed. This will be a problem; I will need to learn more about how this holographic statistics interface works.

He did not know if other humans had the same interface but given the fact that it displayed every single piece of information, both past and present of the individual, Kyle knew better than to reveal such detail to those around him. Especially when he’s only been the leader for a day. I will not let myself be betrayed again, that is for sure.

Kyle dragged himself out of the room, assuming the strong and stern posture again, before returning to the main office. A crime lord must always espouse and demonstrate strength, dominance and competency, even when running a small-time gang.

The broken table had been replaced with another basic table, the same map parchment on it. Damian was already in the office, waiting for him.

“Can you read and write?” Kyle asked as he walked towards the desk and sat down.

“Uhm, not perfectly, but I have a younger brother who can.”

“Go.”

Damian soon returned with a young kid barely eighteen years old. “He’s Keith, he can read and write.”

“Good, come here.” Kyle retrieved a large bulky book from a bookcase, which looked like an account of the gang’s finances. “Read this out loud.”

Kyle couldn’t read the language of the book but could somehow speak the same language as Damian and the rest. I must find a way to fix this impediment in the future.

Keith began to read out loud, using his finger to trace the myriad of numbers. “This year, Year 369 of the Yual Reign, in the month of Autirth, forty thousand, twenty hundred and sixty-two rakels were obtained as revenue. The deficit is…” He hesitated, glancing slightly at Kyle.

“Continue.” Kyle’s demeanour frightened Keith, spurring him to read on.

Every month that Keith read out, Kyle’s expression only got darker and darker, until he was almost boiling with rage. “Ulon indeed was a great gang leader,” Kyle muttered sarcastically. If he had such a subordinate back in the Melsura Star Sector, he would have instantly executed him by particle irradiance from the nearest star.

“As of this month, the month of Autirth, the total deficit we have is approximately one million and two hundred thousand rakels, owed to the Crimson Swords with an expected due date of four months on the last day of Decaber. The end of the year.” Keith finished.

“So what I’m hearing is that even if we cut all our expenses right now, it will take us around thirty months to come close to repaying the debt, assuming there is no interest. And that is assuming the accounts are accurate.”

“Yes sir, though the interest rate is 22% year on year.” Keith was still slightly stiff.

Kyle didn’t react anymore. He was already far too incensed to care. Instead of wasting emotions and energy on being outraged, he put his attention on Keith. “You seem like you are good with math.”

“I used to train under a scholar before we came here… sir. Leader.” Keith still couldn’t get used to calling Kyle sir. The change from the weak Alvin who always took care of them to this distant Kyle was worlds apart.

“Good. From now on, you’ll be my assistant with financial issues. Every night you are to spend one hour teaching me how to read and write as well. Do this, and there will be a reward for you. Now leave us.”

“But Alvin, you already know how to read and write… I mean, yes sir! Leader!”

“Stick to sir.”

Keith nodded and bowed awkwardly and took his leave.

“Damian, how many alchemists do we have under us?”

“Huh? None, we never had any alchemists, to begin with.”

“Not even a single one within our protection racket or influence?”

“Hmm…” Damian scratched his chin. “There is one member of the Alchemist Guild in our district, but he’s a bit feisty, though. No matter which gang tried to approach him, he always refused to pay the protection fee, even under threats. He lives in his shop, and it is well guarded by traps. Ulon never managed to get him to budge.”

A well-protected alchemist… “Get ready, we’re going to visit him. Bring out the cash reserves.” Kyle stood up, patting his pants before moving to leave. Perhaps we can complete the second objective soon. But we’ll need to do some scouting.

“What? Now?” Damian was caught off-guard. He had never seen a gang leader be so proactive in his five years as a goon. Ulon usually lazed around and got others to do things for him.

“If not, when? When we’re bankrupt?” Kyle retorted. “Lead the way.”

Damian hastily retrieved rakels into a medium-sized coin pouch before the two exited the Seven Snakes’ base, coming out of the basement of a five-storey building into a narrow street that was fairly isolated.

“The alchemist lives near the food market. We regularly buy our meals from there as well,” Damian explained as they walked through the street. Homeless squatters, rubbish heaps and small workshops painted the landscape, with kids covered in grime laughing and running through the sparsely populated street.

He had already accepted the fact that Kyle was an amnesiac and needed to be taught from scratch. There was also something about the straightforwardness and competence of Kyle that drew Damian in, a far cry from the repulsive Ulon.

A few turns and corners soon had them at a dense food market. Stalls and carts with colourful banners carved with magic peddled their harvest or forage from the nearby forests and monster regions. Arctech wagons hauling goods from beyond the city came in all various types. Kyle noticed that many bore different license plates and insignias, no doubt coming in from other countries.

Kyle looked around and found a few monster parts and limbs that he had never seen before. Some were even selling mealworms as a meal, but Kyle barely flinched when he saw that. I’ve had worse.

He also noticed a few people sitting at the corner cafes with smoking pipes, blue smoke puffing through the air. The aroma was intricate, the smell of blueberries floating through the air. “That’s a popular hobby of the people, smoking Euria Seeds,” Damian explained.

“Addictive?”

“Sorry?”

“Is it hard to quit the hobby?”

“Oh, not at all. I think the body faces a mild resistance after quitting but would return to normalcy fairly fast, within three hours at most?”

Damian and Kyle navigated through the crowd, before finally reaching a standalone two-storey house positioned in between two blocky six-storey office buildings, making it seem anachronistic. A medium size sign hung on top of the entrance, reading ‘Haui’s Alchemy and Alchemical Products.’

Another sign was hung next to it – the emblem of the Alchemist Guild. Kyle knew from experience that a highly prized product would naturally have a consortium around it. No doubt a strong association… he must have quite a backing then.

The ground around the house was carved with runes similar to those on Kyle’s metal pipe.

“I assume those are the traps.”

“Yes sir, but he won’t use it against new customers. You’ve never visited him before, so we should be okay.”

Kyle entered the shop without hesitation. It was fairly spacious inside, with a few shelves with potions of all sorts. There were already a few other customers inside, all humans who were calculating the prices of potions they were looking to buy.

He eyed the other customers, noticing that they were keeping a close eye on him as he walked through the shop. It seems some of them are security. About five to seven well-trained guards.

He glanced at one of the price tags of a greenish-looking potion. “Five thousand rakels… Impressive.” Holding the potion up in his hand, another purple box appeared in front of him.

Another dark yellow flask was on a different shelf, with Kyle lifting up to examine it.

Six hundred rakels… Kyle glanced around the shop, finding no hints that the alchemist was involved in some mass supply. He is not as rich and powerful as I first thought – he makes money by selling the far more expensive potions on a small scale basis.

“Best be careful with that, young man. Once broken, considered sold.” A husky voice wafted in from the back of the shop. It belonged to an old man in a purple robe who rested his head on a counter, lazily fiddling with a chisel in his hand and spinning it with his fingers.

Kyle placed the potion down and walked up to the counter. “Mr Haui, I presume.” They both sized each other up for a brief moment.

“Indeed. Any particular potion you’re looking for? Or just browsing? Or perhaps…” Haui’s voice trailed off, a small hint of hostility long honed towards shoplifters apparent in his squinting eyes.

“I am looking for something of a different quality. Something more exquisite and different, if you know what I mean.” Kyle replied, much to the confusion of Damian.

Haui’s eyes showed signs of recognition, but wariness crept in as he stared at Kyle, examining him and his clothes carefully. “Haven’t seen you around here before. New in town?”

“You could say that. If what you offer interests me, perhaps this could be a start of a great business relationship.” Kyle nodded knowingly towards Haui.

“Hmm…” Haui seemed to be weighing the pros and cons in his head while Damian still continuously looked back and forth between them. Every hour since Kyle became the gang leader was a complete rollercoaster of emotions for him.

A minute of silence passed before Haui finally placed the chisel down on the counter. “Follow me.” Haui motioned to a side door that led to a stairwell. An illegal operation. As expected for such a well-defended alchemist.

The trio walked down the stairs, only to enter a basement filled with potions that were not the same as what was displayed in the front. “Take a look. Every aphrodisiac, poison, curse and illusionary potion is here. I won’t call them the best in Raktor, but it’ll do the job.”

Kyle nodded, walking through the shelves and rows upon rows of potions. He noticed a few boxes of herbs labelled ‘Poair Leaves’ stacked on the corner through his peripheral vision, though he continued picking up potions and examining them. Each of the potions was well-labelled and displayed in small quantities.

Assuming he performs all his production in-house, he does not seem to have enough ingredients to engage in mass production. There is still a chance, but only if I find evidence of the right potion here.

He was on his twentieth potion since he arrived when another purple box appeared in front of him.

Kyle held the same potion and noticed the description had been upgraded.

“Perfect.”