A Black Market LitRPG

[A slew of riots and gang violence has erupted all over Raktor – Enforcers are clashing with major gang members all over the various sectors.]

[Nobody knows the cause of this yet, but the civil unrest has been ongoing for more than a week, with more and more districts lost to gang control every day. We spoke to Bishop Vernette earlier today for an update on the situation.]

An interviewer appeared on a light-thrower film, thrown up on a screen in a quaint little upper-class café, the white painted wall serving as a good backdrop for the customers to watch.

[“It seems that this is a losing battle for the enforcers, and you may soon have to cede control of the South Sector.”]

[“Far from it. The enforcers are well-armed and poised to claim back the city. This assault on our authority and the divine law set forth by the Emperor shall not go unchallenged.”]

[“But yet you have been unable to curb the increasing violence and devastation that is now spreading throughout Raktor.”]

[“The sudden uprising may have initially caught us by surprise, but we have more than enough resources and manpower to curb the major gangs. All they have achieved is their downfall.”]

[In other news, a sudden uprising in the city of Creuliz has erupted into violence as well. A cult leader claiming to be President Johan has been reported, with a military division sent to quell the rebellion. The government would like to remind citizens that tarnishing the name of our deceased great leader is a crime, and will be punished heavily.]

The light thrower played out in the background while customers were served tea and biscuits, chatting away. Many did not care about the war as much, it being some distant affair to the good lives they were living in the capital. A month of war and continuous daily reporting began to wear down on them, making them apathetic to most occurrences beyond the city.

However, the recent riots surrounding the cult leader in Creuliz were a hot topic among the citizens. One of the customers laughed heartily as he heard the news. “Someone claiming to be President Johan? Well, I am his brother, too! Maybe I should start a cult here.”

“Wait, if you’re starting one, can I be the second brother?”

“Of course, brother! Hahaha! It is far more likely that the cult leader is simply a rabble-rouser trying to capitalise on the reputation of President Johan.”

“Maybe it is a Yual operation to stir dissent among our outer lying cities to spark revolt. Looks like they can’t have Raktor suffering on its own.”

Just like this, the upper-class members of society relaxed in the café; the cuts in social welfare hardly affected those who were already well-to-do, their lifestyle not changing much. Kalian, too, was in the same motions that he had always repeated – a well-deserved break on the weekends relaxing at the café. Except he had brought along work, reading up on documents and proposals that he had failed to catch up on while working as President Mornero’s secretary.

Proposal to reverse-engineer captured war machines… interesting. Kalian thumbed through the proposal, looking at the details and schematics of the war machines that had been collected from the battlefield, marvelling at some of the technology shown.

As Kalian sat in silence alone, sipping away at a cup of tea every so often, a well-groomed old gentleman approached him, sitting down at an adjacent table. Just as the gentleman whipped out his Euria Seeds pipe, a waitress quickly rushed up to him. “Sir, there is no smoking allowed indoors!”

“Ah, right. Sorry about that.” The old gentleman apologised with a genial smile, stowing the pipe back. “Can I get a cup of Poair tea with a few cubes of rock sugar?”

While the waitress returned to the counter, Kalian’s demeanour had changed significantly, now glaring at the documents but never turning to look at the old gentlemen. “I didn’t know you smoked now,” Kalian muttered.

“The stress is getting to me. Hard times for a man like me.”

“You’re running a big risk here.”

“When have I ever not been running a big risk?”

“So, is this the last dying throes of a convicted man?”

“Far from it.”

They did not converse any longer, with the old gentleman taking out his own newspaper to read, commenting on the events. “Raktor is in trouble, huh? Not sure how they got that much weaponry to even begin with.”

“For someone who is well acquainted with such corruption, I’m sure you know the most.” Kalian retorted.

“Well, it is a good thing for Versia, then. Count Leon is stuck in a dilemma now.”

“That, I can agree.” Kalian held the utmost derision for the city of Raktor, which was a wretched hive of scum and villainy, ruled by a corrupt leader only interested in lining his pockets with fame and fortune. “This would be a major win for Versia.”

“A major win for Versia or a major win for President Mornero?”

“President Mornero represents Versia – they are one and the same.”

“To claim that a single man represents an entire country, you sound like a Yual dog.”

Kalian gripped his fist tightly, nearly crumpling the edges of the paper and wrinkling it. “That ‘single man’ has done more than you ever have. He’s the only reason why we are here today.”

“The Emperor of Yual has done more than me too. What’s the difference?”

“You-“

“Fifteen years, Kalian. We have known each other for fifteen years. Worked side-by-side on multiple projects to elevate Versian society. You had all the time in the world to oversee what I was doing – and I had always left you in charge of the finances. Do you truly believe there’s only one side to the story?”

Kalian did not respond, simply continuing to act like he was reading the proposal.

“Base 5, half from now. I’ll see you there, for old times’ sake. Route 3.”

The old gentleman got up from his table, walked over to the café counter and cancelled his order. Kalian was left alone once more, brooding over what the old gentleman had just said. No, I must remain loyal to President Mornero… but what if he is right?

Kalian could hardly imagine that he was on the ‘wrong’ side: to him, the world was black and white, and following Mornero meant he was doing the right thing. He had been working as his secretary for close to seven years now, having personally seen all the effort that Mornero had put in for the country.

The sheer amount of logistics, projects and monetary handling, with Mornero even spending many sleepless nights in the office, toiling away over the paperwork, made Kalian have even more respect for him. It is only natural that he was selected as the successor for the Presidency.

While there were supposed to be upcoming elections, President Mornero had already declared a state of war. No one disagreed – it was clear when Count Leon attacked Ocra that this was not the time to spend the governmental budget to run elections or campaigns. The memory of the first war was still fresh in most people’s minds, driving their support to fight back against Yual aggression.

However, despite all of this, Kalian still felt the inclination to hear out the old gentleman. He needed to know the other side if there was even one. Ten minutes after the old gentleman had left, Kalian, too, left and walked down the street.

The atmosphere was slightly gloomy, with a more militarised presence as soldiers patrolled the city in wagons, keeping an eye out for any Yual spies or infiltrators. Kalian was well aware that Desham and Creuliz had been infiltrated by Yual spies and subverted, though they could not publicly announce that to the citizens. It would be an immediate morale drop and may spark even more misgivings towards the current government.

Route 3… Kalian walked down based on his memory, seemingly wandering around in a random direction with no objective and turning around any corner. He soon found himself in a dark alleyway, where the old gentleman and three other men were waiting for him. “You’re not planning to kill me right here, are you? If you are, then you have fallen very far, Dekar.”

“Sorry, just making sure you were not tracked.” Minister Dekar apologised as the three men searched him for weapons and an arctech radio, finding nothing. The group headed down a side staircase that led to a basement, where Base 5 was left exactly the way Kalian had remembered it from the original revolution, albeit it had been cleaned up a bit.

Kalian did not recognise any of the members there, save for Minister Dekar. However, he soon spotted a familiar individual, his eyes widening greatly. “Zayin?! I thought you were in Ocra?!”

“Wow, they really went all in on this, huh?” Zayin grumbled, still sipping on a bottle of wine, clearly not sober, as he lounged on a couch.

“Please, Kalian, take a seat.” Dekar motioned.

“This must be a joke. You found someone who looked like Zayin to act like the original?” Kalian could not believe him.

“HEY! I am the one and only, okay? Punk, I never fucking liked you.”

“Enough! We don’t have much time – we can reminisce about the old days later. Kalian, you need to understand that Mornero is the one spearheading all these changes. He plans to turn Versia back to the era of the nobles.”

“What a load of bullshit. Is that what you guys really think? He’s doing his best for the Versia!”

“By giving away state licenses for weapons manufacturing, logging, agricultural and other industries to his cronies?”

“Versia is in a different state than it was before – we need to harness the power of the private economy to fuel the war efforts. It is only right to reward those who are competent.”

“Or those who had enough political and social capital to suck up to Mornero, so they can get a slice of the pie? Don’t you see? The social welfare benefits cut, the rationing, the reduced standard of living – it’s all playing right into his hands of centralizing even more and more power. We founded the Versian society on equality; yet now it is turning into an oligarchy. What is the difference from the old Versia?!”

“President Mornero had no choice in the matter. This is war! Everything and anything must be sacrificed for it.”

Dekar sighed with a feminine hand suddenly grabbing his shoulder. “Your time is up. My turn.”

Kalian’s eyes squinted, recognising the lady. “Lady Yona. Yet another wanted criminal hiding here. You’ve really surrounded yourself with the best, Dekar. How long have you been in cahoots with Nest?”

No one replied to him, with Yona only taking out a piece of paper and giving it to him. “Recognize this?”

“What is-“ Kalian’s words were stuck in his mouth. “Impossible, impossible. Mornero can’t have signed this!”

“Oh, but he did. Did you not find the sudden disappearance and subsequent death of President Johan suspicious?”

Kalian was at a loss with the damming evidence right in front of him. His entire worldview was shaken as he read the contract one more time, signed between Lady Yona and Mornero to capture President Johan alive. “But it can’t be! I saw the body myself when it was brought back for the funeral!”

“A body double. Well crafted by yours truly. One of my best works, if I say so myself.” Yona grinned.

“I-i…”

Kalian re-read the contract a few more times, trying to find any sign that it was a forgery. But he knew Mornero’s seal extremely well himself – such a forgery would require stealing of the seal, but it was near impossible as it was always well-kept on Mornero himself. Kalian had witnessed Mornero using his seal on a near-daily basis, so any loss or theft would stand out to him.

“Then… then who is the cult leader in Creuliz?”

“Who else? It’s President Johan himself. We already broke him out.”