A Black Market LitRPG

Eric Dicar winced as he plugged his ears with his finger, the screeching sound of the mortar tubes and the deafening thuds nearly blasting his eardrums apart. “I didn’t sign up to be an artillery crew!”

Gordon wiped the sweat off his brow as he and two other associates lugged a custom-made metal spherical ball and loaded it into the base of the mortar before closing the hatch. “CLEAR!” Gordon yelled before he pressed the trigger.

The ten arcite fuel packs stacked in a haphazard manner next to the mortar chugged furiously, churning as it powered the acceleration engravings along the side of the tubes, glowing red hot. With a bang, the metal ball was lobbed up high and far away, sailing towards a building in a far distance.

[You’re off target, you need to hit it fifty meters to the right!] Adrian’s voice crackled over the arctech radio.

“Fuck!” Gordon cursed, before motioning to Eric to prepare the next explosive. It’s already been three hours since the battle began, with their mortar performing the first strike.

There was not enough time to mass produce the explosives, requiring Eric to mix them manually on the spot. The formula was far too dangerous for others to handle – a simple rounding error in the percentages may very cause the projectile to blow up in the associates’ hands.

The fighting with the Ilysian Punks had yet to spread through the whole district, with only the northern blocks embroiled in conflict. Damian, Monica and Niko were in charge of the defence, helping save the local residents as well as stem the incoming Ilysian Punks.

However, they were clearly far outnumbered – it was a nearly three-to-one numerical disadvantage. What helped the Seven Snakes hold their ground was the armour and handguns provided to them, allowing them to survive for long.

Damian gritted his teeth as he activated the ‘Harden’ engraving on his body, protecting himself from a gunshot as he fought in the ruined Golden Snakes casino. The engraving had boosted his internal arcia energy, along with the nonstop training in the arcite chamber.

Grabbing a half-broken metal chair, he swung it around as a weapon, knocking out two Punks onto the ground as the rest of his crew clashed in an all-out melee brawl. Countless casino chips and cards were scattered on the ground as the Ilysian Punks continued their objective of wrecking every Seven Snakes hideout and business.

Damian continued undeterred, focusing on making sure none of the associates under him died by blocking for them. The enemy squad leader cursed as he checked his arcite fuel pack level, him being the only one wielding an arctech pistol.

With a loud roar, Damian immediately targeted him and charged, slamming into his waist and tackling him onto the ground. The arctech pistol was knocked out of his hand, disconnecting from the arcite fuel pack and scattering away onto the floor amidst the sounds of yelling and punches. They grappled each other in a desperate life-or-death match, trying to suffocate each other.

Damian’s eyes landed on the arctech pistol lying on the corner, reaching out with one hand to try and grab it. They tussled and tumbled on the ground, throwing punches at each other while both of them scrambled for the arctech pistol.

The enemy squad leader managed to grab the pistol again, desperately trying to reconnect the arctech pistol to his fuel pack when he realized his fuel pack had already been crushed by Damian. The shock left him open, allowing Damian to deliver a rapid combo of three punches to the squad leader and knocking him down again. “Stay down, cunt.”

The enemy squad leader tried to get up but was suddenly hit on the head by a metal pipe, nearly caving his skull in and causing blood to spurt through his hair. “THIS IS FOR MARTHA, YOU FUCK!” Alex slammed the pipe down repeatedly, bellowing out his rage.

Damian did not stop him, himself also angered at what the Ilysian Punks had done to Keith. He checked in with the rest of his crew, of which five were seriously injured. “Head back to the shelter and get more health potions.”

While the rest of the associates complied and carried the wounded, Alex did not listen, continuing to hit the Ilysian Punk squad leader in the face, mashing it into a mess of meat. “Alex. Alex. HEY, ALEX, STOP!” Damian shouted and grabbed Alex. “You’re injured too! Think of your daughters; they still want you alive back at the shelter!”

Alex was about to shrug him off until he yelled out in pain as Damian poked a finger in Alex’s gaping wound on his waist. “There’s plenty more of these fuckers to take revenge on. You need to stay alive!”

“Huff..huff.. you’re right. Sorry.” Alex took a deep breath and staggered towards the exit of the casino, nearly crumbling onto the floor before Damian quickly supported him.

The crew headed back to the shelter, rotating with another squad which headed out to defend them. Already the exhaustion was visible on the Seven Snakes associates, barely propped up by the Stamina Recovery Potions. However, the potions did not alleviate the mental fatigue from the close-quarters combat in the city.

At the Lusty Arcian, Niko and Slavin were involved in a desperate protracted battle, both sides firing at each other in the large expansive lobby of the beauty school, with broken pots and mirrors strewn on the floor. Makeshift barricades and tables were used as cover as Niko crouched behind it, gripping a handgun crafted by Kyle.

“How long more till the Red Lions attack the Ilysian Punks!? They must know we’re in shit by now!” Niko roared into his arctech radio as yet another shot whizzed past his cover.

[I don’t know, but the Red Lions doesn’t seem to making a single move!] Adrian replied.

“WHAT?! Then what the hell are we buying time for?!” Niko cursed. “We’re going to lose the Lusty Arcian at this rate!”

[There are even bigger issues – there’s a fifty men squad from the Ilysian Punks moving to the south of us!]

Niko’s face baulked. He was under the impression that the force attacking them right now was the main force. There’s more?!

[Sasha and I will handle it.] Kyle suddenly spoke on the communication channel.

On the roof of a building, Kyle laid down flat and mounted his arctech railgun, aiming down an open street. He peered through the telescope, zooming in on the approaching Ilysian Punks.

Five squads marched down the open streets, all far more armoured and equipped than the punks attacking in the north. Kyle noticed a wagon being escorted in the middle of their formation filled with arcite fuel packs, supposedly serving as their mobile supply station.

Kyle marked the five squad leaders before focusing on one, firing the first bullet. With a significant recoil, the metal ball nearly broke the speed of sound, hurtling towards the Ilysian Punks formation.

In an instant, the metal ball tore a hole through the squad leader’s head, killing him before he could even react.

“Fuck, the long-range cannon is here! Get to cover!”

Kyle fired two more times, killing yet another squad leader while missing another as the Ilysian Punks broke formation, sprinting all over the place.

The Ilysian Punks began to break into the nearby buildings and shops, using them as cover as they moved from door to door or through the alleyways out of their firing angle of Kyle.

Kyle immediately unmounted the arctech railgun and began to head down to the ground floor himself. “Sasha, hunt them one by one now, before they spread too far into the district!”

[Yes, sir.] Sasha replied, already on the way there. She immediately ordered the squad members under her to spread out and began chasing the Ilysian Punks down. Moving alone, she had her sights on whoever was the closest.

This time, she wore a full coat, the interior layered with arctech armour. The armour barely slowed her down as she sprinted down the streets towards the closest squad, who were disorganized as their leader had just collapsed.

The shop owners cowered in fear behind the cashier as half an Ilysian Punk squad barged into the bakery. They quickly closed the door behind them, barricading themselves in as they hauled the shelves. “Shit, what do we do now? Our lead is dead. The arctech radio is on his body!”

Before anyone could offer their opinion or suggestion, Sasha kicked her way through the store glass, shattering the window. With a handgun in her hand, she fired three rounds in rapid succession at the closest Ilysian Punk – two in the body, one in the head.

Sasha ducked as another Ilysian Punk swung his crowbar at her head while she kicked outwards into his groin before parrying a punch from another side. In a flurry of jabs, punches and kicks, she quickly knocked out four members.

The last surviving member ran out into the streets, yelling at the other Ilysian Punks. “The assassin is here!”

Instead of chasing him down the streets, Sasha instead chose to exit the bakery through the back alleyways, trying to flank around and target another squad. However, the moment she turned the corner, a familiar metal gauntlet knocked right into her left shoulder, sending her soaring into the air. She twisted her body as she flipped through the air, landing on the ground and recovering, the armour mitigating some of the damage.

“So we meet again, assassin. How much did the Seven Snakes pay you this time? Is it worth your life?” Makoa grinned, nine punks standing behind him in the alleyway with their arctech pistols at the ready. “Shoot her.”

Sasha gritted her teeth and activated her breastplate’s ability, sending out three dark green projectiles that countered the volley of shots. However, six shots made it through, with three missing her and the remaining three nailing her in the thighs and waist, causing her to stagger onto the ground on one knee.

Makoa motioned with a single hand, the Ilysian Punks moving forward to finish her off. Sasha’s eyes burn with determination, unwilling to go down without a fight.

As the first knife stabbed her, she deftly dodged and twisted the wrist holding the knife, forcing the attacking punk to drop it. She moved fluidly as she avoided and weaved through the attacks, parrying and slamming them into the walls. The healing engraving on her back worked overtime, but with the bullets lodged deep in her body, it could not be healed automatically, causing her movement to slow down over time.

The pain surging from the embedded bullets caused her to falter slightly, with a hit from a metal crowbar landing right on her back, slamming against the armour with a dull thud. Before she could recover her posture and counterattack, Makoa suddenly lunged towards her, delivering a flurry of punches that caved in her armour, shredding her full coat apart to reveal the dents underneath.

However, before Makoa could follow up, a loud familiar bang slammed into his energy shield again from behind, staggering him.

The long-range cannon – what?! He turned around and saw who it was. “The Seven Snakes leader? GET HIM!”

The squad members turned and rushed Kyle, but the handgun in his left shot with precision, firing three times in a row.

The remaining squad members were undeterred and rushed him, swinging wildly at him from all angles. Kyle dropped his handgun onto the floor and wielded his arctech railgun with both hands, using it like a blunt staff.

Penchant for Violence.

His body surged with strength as his muscles enlarged slightly, along with his perception increasing. With the additional free points added to the stats, the effects of doubling it was becoming more apparent to Kyle. Even his brain seemed to run at a faster speed, allowing him to react faster as the world around him began to slow down slightly. This is like a Galactic Era combat stimulant.

The first attacker gritted his teeth and swung a crowbar from the right, but the reach failed to hit Kyle as he took a step back. He jabbed the barrel of the railgun into the stomach of the first attacker like a spear before swinging it down on another attacker, coming at him from another side in a downward hit. The distinctive sound of a shot forced him to immediately swivel and block an arctech pistol bullet with the body of his railgun, shot from a punk who managed to reload during the fight.

Kyle charged forward with the heavy steel muzzle of the railgun as a spear, slamming the tip into the nearest attackers and crushing their bones with a single hit. A solid jab was enough to cause a punk to be knocked out of the fight, whimpering on the ground from the pain.

Makoa was astonished by the sheer strength Kyle possessed despite his lean stature. Where is he getting this power from? He doesn’t even have an arcite fuel pack! Is he a mage?

Kyle slammed the butt of his railgun down on an incapacitated Ilysian Punk’s neck, killing him instantly.

“So, is this all you got?”