A Black Market LitRPG
chapter-111

The next day…

Diya grumbled as she tapped her feet impatiently, waiting in the same makeshift shelter where the old man was sleeping on the metal bed. In the shelter were another two of her workers, along with entire crates of crushed scrap metal as well as wooden beams ripped from houses. They were stacked up high, with nearly two dozen of them.

“Old man, you don’t need to pretend. The entrance is right under your bed. Just move out of the way.” Diya tried to persuade the old man.

The old man shrugged, scratching his bulbous chin violently before lying on the metal bed with no intention of moving.

“I swear, if this is a standup, I will use everything in my power to-“

Just as she said it, a rumbling sound could be heard, along with a clear knocking sound rasping on the bottom of the metal bed. The old man quickly leapt off and shoved the metal bed out of the way, revealing Kyle and Makoa again, this time carrying what seemed to be sacks of meat as they clambered out of the tight tunnel.

“Advanced payment.” Kyle tossed the sack over to Diya’s workers, who nearly collapsed from the weight.

Diya stared in suspicion, wondering what kind of food did Kyle manage to get. There were only mostly farms of Desham Tuffs around, so any food into the city had to be imported, which led her to believe that Kyle had hit a food supply wagon on the open road. “Idiot, if you hijack the food rations coming in, the people here will suffer even more! The government is going to rain hell down on us!”

“Ma’am, it isn’t the rations! Look!” The workers excitedly motioned for Diya to take a look inside the sack, which was filled to the brim with cuts of meat from mammoth hogs.

“What? Did you hunt that many mammoth hogs in a single day? How?” Diya exclaimed.

“Is the best fixer in Desham so curious? If you want to know the method, it’s going to cost you.”

Diya immediately kept herself in check, regaining her senses. “Perhaps I’ll buy it off you in the future. The materials you asked for are here.”

Kyle examined the materials, opening a few crates to see the quality. The scrap metal can be easily melted down in the old furnace to remove the impurities, so not an issue. “Good. I need a continuous shipment of this volume every day. Makoa, handle the transfer. Diya, a quick word.”

Diya was a bit rustled at how arrogantly Kyle was ordering her around like he was the boss, but she complied nevertheless, motioning to her workers to sort everything out. After all, Kyle was her main source of food now. She followed Kyle out into yet another empty metal shelter which only had long-rusted belongings of missing occupants.

“You seem to be in trouble,” Kyle remarked.

“After yesterday’s ‘generous’ event which overturned the entire slums? Yeah, I think that was trouble enough. Should have just given me the damn coins. Now the soldiers are sweeping every inch of the slums. We’re even worse off now!”

“That’s a good thing for you, isn’t it? Your competitors are being overturned while you still retain a supply of food now.”

Diya nodded, her head already swimming with the daydream of being the richest in the slums. She now had her own monopoly on food and could continue to build a power base. However, there were still many issues that would block her path to dominance.

Being the self-proclaimed ‘best’ fixer in town did not mean she was the only one angling for the black market. Nearly everyone with a brain was trying, fighting tooth and nail with each other to stay on top of the current conditions that plagued the town. Sure, Diya did not need to worry about food any longer, but she still had to worry about those who would try to usurp her.

However, Kyle was already thinking much, much further than Diya. The town of Desham is relatively small – if I can grab control of it without alarming Nest or the Versian Military, then it would be a safe base to move forward. I will need a figurehead.

“Diya, how would you like to be the Queen of Desham?”

***

The officer slammed his fist on the table, the sergeants around him freezing up in response. “TWO DAYS AND NO SIGN OF THE DAMN ‘MAKOA’. WHO THE FUCK IS THIS GUY?”

“AND YOU!” The officer roared towards an old man with a tattoo of Nest on his neck. “You’ve got to be the most useless Nest informant I have ever seen! Why am I even forced to work with you?!”

“Officer Gabriel, you must understand that I have limited manpower and observation capabilities in Desham.” The old man replied calmly.

“And? I believe I am the main client here – I pay you to give me insights into the criminal network here!”

“The payment is hardly sufficient to establish proper informant networks! Versian coins cannot be eaten, officer. Food is more precious than gold now.”

Officer Gabriel grumbled but did not reply to the clear insinuation of the old man. He did not control the supply of food in the city – the Governor and his councillors did. But right now, nearly fifty per cent of the food is stocked up in warehouses dedicated to the upper class of Desham, with the remaining being rationed.

This situation is not sustainable. Once the war begins, the chaos will be unimaginable. I have to suppress any rebellious elements before-

Suddenly a corporal burst into the room, shocking the members inside. “Corporal! How dare you ente-“ Officer Gabriel started reprimanding the corporal, but the corporal shouted over him.

“Sir, it’s bad! The people have started a riot, claiming we have captured Makoa! They are asking to release him!”

“What? But we never caught him at all!”

The soldiers in the local garrison quickly mobilised, reorientating their forces and efforts towards the riot that was now gaining popularity, numbering in the thousands as they swarmed the main streets.

[Martial Law has been declared, please stay indoors, stay indoors.]

“Officer Gabriel, should we inform headquarters?”

“Like hell we will! I’m going to squash all of them in a single day, and no one will even know anything happened! Get every man out there and disperse them in whatever means necessary!”

“Yes sir!”

Officer Gabriel himself moved out in an arctech wagon convoy, filled to the brim with soldiers as they reached the first makeshift barricade made of deployable metal barriers, the rioters shouting and throwing any object they could get their hands on at the soldiers.

“RELEASE MAKOA, YOU SHAMELESS PIGS!”

“STOP RATIONING THE FOOD!”

“FREEDOM FOR VERSIANS!”

The crowd chanted loudly while the soldiers desperately held the barricade firmly as the bodies of the rioters surged forwards, attempting to topple the head-high metal barrier. A few rioters clambered onto over the barrier, only to be immediately pinned down and arrested, cuffed by the soldiers.

This is strange – there are far too many people in the riot! It’s only been two days since the appearance of Makoa, and it’s a fact that we are still looking for him. Who is spreading the rumour and fuelling the riot? Officer Gabriel was sure that there was someone with an ulterior motive for sparking such a riot and false rumour.

“Sergeant, have some soldiers go around the edges of the riot and check for any signs of coercion. Someone must be funnelling people to join the riots through incentives. Stop them!”

The sergeant had five soldiers go around each side, checking the connecting alleyway and arresting anyone that came into sight, cutting off the number of rioters that were slowly joining. Soon, as they reached the back of the riot, a strong, delicious smell of roasted pork began to surround them, the aroma enticing.

Even the soldiers were salivating at the idea of the juicy, crisp skin of the roasted pork, with its fats and meat all to savour. Meat itself was extremely rare and only available for the soldiers once every week, and even then, it was only in small portions, hardly enough to satisfy them.

However, the soldiers did not dare go against their orders, even when they saw a lone human slow-cooking an entire flank of meat on a metal pipe over an open fire. The sanitary conditions were abysmal, but that was not a point of complaint for the dozens of slum dwellers who were now queuing up.

The moment a dweller got a skewer, he chomped it down quickly before running off to join the riots. The soldiers quickly moved in to stop the entire operation, but it only made the queuing dwellers even angry, most of them lashing out at the soldiers and turning the alleyway into a close-quarter brawl, with the weapons being mostly chunks of scrap metal and fragmented wooden beams with a sharpened tip.

While the brawls were erupting all over the edges of the rioting crowd, Officer Gabriel was still pondering as to what was the overall objective of the riot. Assuming the riot is not their main objective, then…

“How many soldiers are there left back at the garrison barracks?”

“Sir, there’s only a dozen of them left.”

“Have the wall guards move to the garrison barracks as well! Quickly!”

Instead of hearing a ‘Yes, sir’, a loud explosion rocked the entire town, the air shockwave rippling through and shattering the tainted glass windows of the various apartment complexes and office buildings. The weak structures of the slums easily toppled over in the blast of wind, collapsing on each other.

Officer Gabriel could feel the thud in his eardrums, his ears ringing as every soldier and rioter immediately cowered in fear. He could only look back at the source of the explosion, seeing a large dust cloud billowing outwards from the garrison barracks into the sky.

No one chanted any longer nor tried to push any more, merely staring in both surprise, curiosity and shock at what had just happened, not understanding anything. However, Gabriel understood very clearly what had just happened. We’ve been sabotaged!

“THEY KILLED MAKOA!” One random rioter shouted from within the crowd, causing a wave of gasps to spread through.

“YEA, THEY KILLED MAKOA SO THEY WOULD NOT HAVE TO RELEASE HIM! THEY WANT US DEAD!” Another rioter riled up the crowd even further, stirring up emotions.

“Fight back against oppression!”

“FIGHT BACK!”

“Fight back against oppression!”

“FIGHT BACK!”

The crowd of rioters began to push once more against the barricade as the soldiers used their bodies to prop up the metal barriers, resisting the incoming force. Morale amongst the soldiers had plummeted to an all-time low. With the garrison barracks destroyed, the military in Desham had suddenly lost all semblance of control over the local populace, as their once undefeatable image had now clearly been marred by the inability to defend itself.

Gabriel himself knew this might very well be the end of his military career, staring at the ballooning dust cloud in shock.

“Sir, your orders? Sir! Sir!” A sergeant desperately shook Gabriel violently, trying to snap him out of his stupor.

Gabriel’s eyes turned towards the rioting crowd, his eyes locking with the bloodthirsty crowd, who would clearly have him quartered limb by limb if he allowed them to capture him.

“Mount the machine guns on the arctech wagons and wait for my signal. All of them.” Gabriel spoke quietly, barely audible over the din of the clamouring crowd.

“Sir, you can’t be serious! These are Versian citizens, squatters or not! Such a command would – “

“Do you want to be hanged and flayed naked by them?”

The sergeant’s words were stuck in his throat, gulping. Every soldier here knew they would be immediately overrun by the rioting crowd and beaten to death. After all, that was what they had seen the original revolutionaries do to the nobility’s soldiers during the first revolution. It was part and parcel of a riot.

“Well?”

“N-no, sir.”

“THEN WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? I SAID: MOUNT ALL OF THEM!”

The soldiers quickly hefted the large machine guns on the top of the driver cabin of each wagon, hooking up an arcite fuel pipe connected to the tank of the wagon. The soldiers who handled the machine gun and aimed down the barrel at the ravenous crowd were trembling, afraid of what would happen if they pulled the trigger. However, they were equally afraid of what would happen to them if they did not pull the trigger.”

“OPEN FIRE!”