A Black Market LitRPG

[MGDriver]

Alvin was never one for fighting. Hell, he hated the thought of getting his nose broken or even having his fingernail cracked. Even wooden splinters from the wheelbarrows or sparks from the arctech wagons frightened him, despite being nearly twenty-five years old.

So why was he in the midst of a brutal gang fight in the smog-filled alleys lined with pulsating pipes that churned green?

Before he could answer that question himself, a straight punch cracked his nose from tip to base, causing blood to spurt and bone to fragment as he staggered backwards, tumbling over broken wooden boxes filled with grimy, gooey trash. He didn't even know why the two gangs were fighting, only that he was ordered to come here to help.

Alvin could barely register his surroundings after the first hit, stumbling about coated in filth and pus from the trash heap. He tried to support himself against the wall that was layered with never-ending pipes, wooden barricaded windows, and metal doors. His head spun, unable to determine where he was walking to.

Unknowingly, he began to cross over towards the rival gang, oblivious to the shouts of his friends as he tried to swipe the goo off his face.

"Who the fuck is this blind idiot?" One of the rival gang members laughed at the stumbling Alvin. He ran his hand over an engraved metal pipe, causing the runes to glow bright yellow before he smashed it right down onto Alvin's head with a loud thud.

The runes seemed to imbue additional properties into the metal pipe, the additional force and strength cracking his skull through the dirty auburn hair that became stained with blood and bits of meat. His body plopped onto the ground without a word, dead on the spot. "Fucking hell, Riker killed him!"

Alvin's allied gang members grimaced but did not care too much about Alvin dying, all of them too preoccupied with keeping themselves alive as they struggled against their opponents. After all, he was just cannon fodder—most of them were too.

"One down, nine to go, boys!" Riker announced loudly, boosting the morale of the rival gang.

Alvin's corpse was kicked to the side, slumping against the wall beside a dead, decaying rat and abandoned gears and parts. Shouting, yelling, and sounds of metal echoed through the alley as bright runes and blood decorated the walls with brilliant flashes and streaks.

"Shit, they got way more enchanted gear than we do, retreat! Leave Alvin's body behind!" Alvin's gang beat a hasty retreat, leaving only the rival gang members in the alley, all of them cheering and heckling the fleeing enemy.

"You two, check that idiot's pockets for anything good. Rest of you, head back with me. The boss will be pleased to hear this. The Seven Snakes are such pushovers, pah," Riker ordered.

Two rival gang members remained behind, alone in the alleyway, putting on grim faces as they began to scavenge through Alvin's clothes. They, too, were practically cannon fodder, albeit not as weak as Alvin had been. Such was life in the underbelly of Raktor.

One of the gang members looked out for anyone else who might come across the bloodied scene. He spotted two patrolling local enforcers about to pass the entrance to the alleyway, but instead of backing off or trying to flee, he smirked at the two of them, locking eyes expectantly.

"Having a good day, sir? Hopefully, nothing to see here?" The gang member had a wide grin face as his palm rested on the edge of the metal pipe on his belt.

The law enforcers glanced at the gang member, recognising his outfit and equipment before slightly bowing politely as though they were at a ballroom function. "Of course, nothing to see at all. You have a good day too." Without waiting for a reply, the enforcers continued along their path, picking up the walking pace rapidly.

"That's good. Better keep on walking. Don't wanna have to pay your wife a visit!" The gang member chuckled as he watched them flee. He returned to the other gang member, who was still checking the body for anything valuable.

"Seems like there's nothing here…." The other mumbled audibly, sighing to himself.

"What do we do now? Just leave the body here?" The first asked.

"Better to sell him off – maybe the alchemist will have a use for it."

Suddenly, the body jerked violently, thrashing in place with its limbs flailing about and scaring the two gang members. "What the hell? Did the fumes get to him or something? Is he a deviant?"

The body eventually stopped thrashing, coming to a complete standstill. The two gang members glanced at each other, hesitant about what to do next. They were hardly trained for a corpse coming back to life, especially in such a violent manner. Nothing particular of the sort came to mind, but in such an environment, violence was usually the best solution.

"Fuck if I know, but best to hit him a few more times!"

The two gang members retrieved their bent pipes, the first taking the lead and swinging down on Alvin. In a blink, Alvin's eyes flew wide open, grabbing the first gang member's wrist with one hand while he kicked out hard against the first's shins, causing him to yell in pain and drop the pipe instinctively.

As the first fell to the ground, Alvin dodged another hit from the other, flipping his body in a deft martial fashion before recovering into a standing position while still gripping the wrist of the first. He twisted it far beyond what it could, making the first gang member scream out loud.

With a stomp, the arm of the first was broken cleanly, allowing Alvin to retrieve the dropped pipe and fend off the other quickly. A single parry was all that was needed to catch the other off guard before Alvin performed a stab with the metal pipe towards the guts. The stabbing force was like a brick smacking into the other gang member, his body toppling.

Before he could even hit the ground, Alvin lunged forward in a single fluid motion, grabbing his face and slamming it down into the hard concrete. A sickening crack of bone and a slight squishing sound could be heard as his skull cracked, the concussion knocking him out cold.

The first gang member watched in horror as Alvin began to turn around and walked back slowly towards him before kneeling down on his broken arm, pinning him. Alvin rested the tip of the pipe on the first's thigh while he whimpered and struggled to get out, pain wracking his nerves as Alvin pressed harder on the broken arm with his knees.

"Where's Xanius? Where's my exosuit? Who kidnapped me?" Alvin asked the first gang member with a stern expression. "Who hired you to attack me? Which star system is this? Who owns this planet? Where's the nearest hyperlane?"

"Wha…what the hell are you talk- ARGGGGGGGHHH!" The tip of the enchanted metal pipe pierced down hard onto the thigh, causing him to let out an agonising scream before Alvin used the same tip to smack his cheek, ripping off a bit of skin in the process with a copious amount of blood spurting.

"Answer the questions."

"I…I don't know who the fuck Xanius is! What the fuck is an ex-o-su-it?" The first gang member yelled back as he thrashed on the spot, a reflex from the incredible amount of jolting pain that arced through his entire body.

Alvin looked carefully at the first gang member's eyes and expression for a good twenty seconds before finally releasing him. The first let out a sigh of relief, his eyes still watching Alvin walk back to the other unconscious gang member.

Without another word, Alvin stomped on the neck of the other, crushing the windpipe completely.

[System Message]	Killed [Red Lion Thug], +10 EXP

[SYSTEM MESSAGE] Level Up! Level 1 ---> Level 2
[Stats Increase]	All Stats Increase Bonus Free Points Granted

"What…?" The purple box that suddenly appeared in front of Alvin's face was jarring, and he tried to swipe it out of the way with his hand. What was a hologram doing here? He did not recall installing any invasive interface systems into his nerval jack.

The first gang member did not wait for Alvin to figure out anything, already attempting to crawl away, hoping to get out of the alleyway and somewhere more populated so that someone could save him.

He grunted as he tried to use his good arm to drag himself away. He couldn't stand either, with his shin fractured by the earlier kick from Alvin. How had he suddenly become so strong? Wasn't he cannon fodder like us?! It's like his body was enhanced!

Before he could move further, a firm grip lifted him by his collar before tossing him back against the wall with a loud thud, causing him to gag as he slumped to the ground once again.

Alvin crouched next to the lead attacker, his amber-yellow eyes staring deep into the frightened attacker's soul. "You and I are going to have a nice long chat about this place."

---

"Shit, shouldn't have left those two idiots to it," Riker grunted as he stomped back to the alleyway where they had just fought. "Fucking fodder can't even handle a simple task. Pah, I got better things to do than babysit some kids."

He reached the entrance of the alleyway, noticing there was no one there at all. He also noted that Alvin's body was missing, though there seemed to be clear signs of a second fight.

Blood that was much fresher.

That put him on guard, wary. Enforcers? No, if it were them, they would be openly crawling all over the place, trying to claim credit for a measly promotion.

His body tensed up while he held his pipe at the ready, prepared for battle. His eyes darted about, scanning his surroundings quickly. "I don't care who the fuck you are, don't think you can just mess around on the Red Lions' turf!" Riker shouted in bravado as he slowly entered the alleyway.

"Looks like there's no shortage of second-rate thugs in this 'city'." A voice wafted in from above in a taunting fashion. Riker quickly glanced upwards, only to see a looming shadow dropping towards him from the never-ending pipes, a knee brutally colliding into him and cracking his collarbone into fragments.

He could not even scream, the air being knocked out of him as he collapsed onto the ground, but his battle instincts and adrenaline kicked in, keeping him conscious while he rolled. He bore the brunt of the pain and quickly recovered into a fighting stance, creating some distance from the unknown assailant. Who is it? Another gang?!

The sight of his assailant shocked him, however. "You? The idiot? How the -"

An eyebrow twitched on Alvin's face, but he didn't show any other expression, merely lunging forward with his right arm swinging his metal pipe downwards in a predictable slash.

Riker smirked and blocked the blatant incoming attack, but it was a feint, with Alvin instead punching out with his left arm, nailing him in the guts. Riker doubled over and fell onto his butt, grimacing as he tried to regain his stance, but it was far too late.

Alvin was already on top of him, attacking with the utmost precision, targeting all the major limbs and joints with the clear intent to break all of them. Riker screamed as he suffered a rapid barrage of strikes, unable to move any of his severely bruised and broken limbs. "You, who the fuck are you?" He roared in an attempt to scare Alvin off. "Don't you know who I am? The Red Lions will never let you Seven Snakes off, you cocksucker!"

A swift kick to the jaw caused a snapping sound, rendering Riker unable to talk. Alvin leaned in close, glaring at Riker with bloodshot eyes. "My name is Kyle Hawthorn, Dominator of the Kablsk Spice Routes, Ruler of the Neadrsa Flow and Crime Lord of the Melsura Star Sector. And you? You are the first step to my new empire."

---

[SYSTEM MESSAGE] Title Obtained
[Former Crime Lord]	A bigshot in your previous life, so much for that, huh? +10 INT, +10 CHA

[SYSTEM MESSAGE] Title Obtained
[Martial Arts Expert]	The best things between you and death are your fists +10 STR, +10 DEX

[SYSTEM MESSAGE] Title Obtained
[Murderer]	Everyone has to start somewhere +2 STR, +10% Increased Damage to Humans

WELCOME TO RAKTOR, KYLE HAWTHORN
Level 2 Max HP: 13(+0)(+0)(+0) Max MP: 0(+0)(+0)(+0) Max STA: 13(+0)(+0)(+0)
[Status Effects] NONE
[STATS]
Race	Human
Class	???
Sub-Class	???
STR	24(+12)(+0)(+0)
DEX	22(+10)(+0)(+0)
INT	22(+10)(+0)(+0)
VIT	16(+0)(+0)(+0)
CHA	20(+10)(+0)(+0)
Free Points	5
[EQUIPMENT]
NONE
[SKILLS]
NONE
[TITLES]
[Former Crime Lord]	A bigshot in your previous life, so much for that, huh? +10 INT, +10 CHA
[Martial Arts Expert]	The best things between you and death are your fists +10 STR, +10 DEX
[Murderer]	Everyone has to start somewhere +2 STR, +10% Increased Damage to Humans

 

[MGDriver]

"This was supposed to be an easy fight!" A meaty hand slammed the wooden table, causing the map made out of parchment on the table and empty mugs of ale to tremble. The same hand pointed menacingly at a group of young men, who flinched slightly.

"All you had to do was defend against the Red Lions, and instead, you idiots turned it into an ugly fight that got one of the fodder killed for nothing. We lost control of that entire block!" The owner of the hand berated the group, chiding them for their incompetence.

"It wasn't our fault – Riker was too strong! We need more equipment and train-" one of the guys complained, infuriated at the one-sided scolding.

"You're useless, Damian. I could easily beat him with one hand tied behind my back if I was there. Back in my heyday, I was a champion in this Sector! Me, Ulon Baktar! Even the Ardent Cretins was small fries during our time." The gang leader of the Seven Snakes smacked his chest with that same meaty hand.

Then why don't you go there and fight yourself, huh? Damian internally raged as Ulon Baktar went on a spiel about the good old days and how the Seven Snakes used to be a great gang, controlling more than five districts in the South Sector. Now they were a small-time racket, barely a factor in the criminal underbelly of Raktor. Damian was not even sure they truly controlled the district now, with the Red Lions moving in.

The only reason why most of the twenty gang members remained behind was that they were far too weak to join the other gangs, as well as being locals of this district right here. Their friends, family and acquaintances were all here – leaving the gang meant their relationships would be subject to abuse by Ulon, a form of blackmail. Damian grimaced, shooting a glare at Ulon. If only I had enough strength to kill him in a duel to become leader instead…

But it was not for lack of trying: Damian had seen other braver gang members get killed: Ulon had a unique necklace made out of three green crystals that healed him as well, causing any duel to turn into one of attrition. Until I find a way to overcome that necklace…

"Don't you know how I became gang leader? I duelled the previous one as per tradition, winning easily! It is ALL of you, the useless trash, that is dragging down the reputation we once had!" Ulon accused.

Before Ulon could continue his monologue any further, the door burst wide open, causing everyone in the room to turn their heads immediately. A shocked murmur spread through the group like wildfire, their eyes not believing what they were seeing. What?! Alvin?!

Kyle Hawthorn entered, dragging the badly beaten-up Riker behind him, who was still slightly whimpering as the rough flooring continuously cut into his wounded limbs. Kyle had Riker's enchanted metal pipe strapped to his belt, his clothes still stained with dried blood.

Tossing Riker to the side without care, Kyle walked up to face Ulon directly, who was still sitting behind the table in shock. "You are the gang leader of the Seven Snakes?" Kyle asked stoically.

"Al-Alvin, I heard from Damian that you were badly hurt. They thought you dead! Where did you find Riker? Was it another gang that intervened? Did we get back the block?" Ulon hardly cared about Alvin's survival. He was far more happy about seeing one of Red Lion's goons in terrible shape, focusing on Riker's bruised face with glee. A victory was hard to come by in the Seven Snakes, even for all of Ulon's ranting.

Kyle snapped his fingers once in the air, a light but somehow extremely clear and attention-grabbing action. "Answer the question."

Ulon was slightly taken aback by the sheer confidence and authority that Alvin now radiated out of nowhere. Instead of replying directly, Ulon was more angered by the fact that this lowly fodder had the audacity to act like he was in charge.

"Yes, I am your gang leader, and I order you to get back in line before I punish you again! Seems like the gang fight has made you forget how things run around here!" Ulon roared as he stood up, clearly in a furious rage. Kyle, however, did not break his gaze, staring right into Ulon's eyes.

"I heard you killed the previous leader in a duel. As per tradition, I challenge you to a duel for the position of the gang leader."

The entire room was stunned, some even rubbing their ears to make sure they were not hearing things. Seeing Riker badly injured was one thing, but now the weak Alvin suddenly standing up to Ulon? Damian couldn't believe what he was witnessing, attempting to step forward to intervene, hoping to save Alvin from a premature death. "Boss, please forgive him. He may be a bit muddled from the fig-"

Ulon only held up a hand, motioning for Damian to shut the fuck up, before he squinted his eyes at Kyle, completely serious. "You do know it's a life-or-death duel?"

"Life or death only matters for you." The arrogant reply and the nonchalant expression on Kyle's face irked Ulon even more, pushing him over the edge.

"Good; if you want to be beaten to death so much, I'll happily oblige. I won't be killing off my property so soon, though – I'll have you taste punishment!"

"Very well." Kyle immediately delivered a solid kick in place, smacking the entire table right into Ulon and toppling him over his chair. The impact had the flimsy wooden table splinter apart in the middle, causing Ulon to be caught off-guard and slightly disoriented from the shock as he tried to recover.

Before Ulon could even make a move, Kyle grabbed the enchanted metal pipe from his waist belt, charging right in and smacking it as hard as he could on Ulon's undefended head. A loud snapping sound was heard, Ulon's forearm bone shattering in a desperate attempt to block, a solid gash of blood erupting.

[SYSTEM MESSAGE] Item
[Enchanted Metal Pipe (Basic)]	A pipe to bend the rules Active Skill: Reinforcement – Increased force when hitting MP Cost Per Activation: 2 MP Duration: Thirty Seconds Cooldown: Two minutes

However, unlike Riker's activation of the engraving, Kyle's pipe did not glow at all, showing no apparent difference from a normal pipe. He could not feel any bonus nor special effects happening either. It did not matter to Kyle for now – as long as the weapon existed, he could use it. It was all the same to him.

Instead of crying out, Ulon bore the pain and began to try and fight back while he still lay on the floor, throwing a few punches and kicks, engravings on the three crystals of his unique necklace glowing green. A green aura enveloped Ulon, healing the wound on his forearm like magic and mending slowly, the healing process of the body accelerated. "Hah, you think you can-"

Another quick smack on his arm interrupted Ulon, cracking his forearm again, followed by a flurry of rapid hits. Kyle wasn't about to let Ulon heal, continuously whacking repeatedly, keeping up the barrage. Damian and the other gang members were rooted to the spot, none of them stepping forward to intervene in the duel as they watched a masterclass in unforgiving violence play out right before their eyes.

"Wai-WAIT! STOP!" Ulon screamed, sticking his other good arm out, which was unceremoniously hit by the enchanted metal pipe too. Kyle whacked with consistency, never stopping and with a constant breath, as though he was pounding a dough in a rhythm.

The beating continued for three minutes without pause, the necklace's glow beginning to fade. Ulon could barely talk now, his face a complete mess covered in blood and snot, the green aura failing to keep up with the damage inflicted. Kyle finally grabbed the metal pipe with both arms before smashing it right down on Ulon's head, a soft little spurt echoing through the office.

None of the other members dared to move even after the duel had ended, shocked by the sheer brutality revealed by Alvin. It was like a different human – no, a monster had awoken within Alvin.

Kyle was about to raise his metal pipe to hit Ulon again when an intrusive message in the form of purple 'holograms' appeared once again in front of him. He noticed no one else reacted to the appearance. I must be the only one who can see this.

[System Message]	Killed [Ulon Baktar], +500 EXP

[SYSTEM MESSAGE] Level Up! Level 2 ---> Level 9
[Stats Increase]	All Stats Increase Bonus Free Points Granted

Kyle rested his bloodied metal pipe on his shoulders and bent over to rip Ulon's necklace from his neck, curious about the source of the green aura.

[SYSTEM MESSAGE] Item Obtained
[Necklace of Healing (Basic)]	For the timid of heart +3 INT, + 3 VIT, + 1 CHA Active Skill: Heal(Basic) – Restore a tiny amount of health Consumes internal arcia energy instead of user's arcia energy Cooldown: Ten seconds

Arcia? Kyle did not focus on that right now, instead glancing around at the frightened gang members. "Anyone else want to try me?"

The gang members shook their heads rapidly, including Damian. While Ulon was a slob and a lazy leader, there was no doubt he was well-defended and had a solid constitution. The number of hits Kyle had to deliver to kill Ulon was a testimonial to that. Kyle didn't even look tired out, his eyes still staring directly at them with rapt attention while his pipe still had beads of blood trickling down its length.

"No, leader." Damian bowed immediately, a slight fear erupting on his face as he realised that Kyle could maybe beat all of them up without breaking a sweat. If I couldn't beat Ulon in a duel, I certainly can't beat Alvin now!

"Good. From now on, the gang is under me. The name shall remain the same. Who's the oldest gang member here?" Kyle asked.

Damian and the gang members looked at each other, completely confused about Alvin's apparent memory loss. Did he really not remember anything about the gang? "I've been here the longest, about five years now, Alvin."

"Ok, the rest of you, dump him into the nutri-recycler or the airlock and get out of this room. Throw that 'Riker' guy into the cells. You stay. Also, from now on, my name is Kyle, got it?" Kyle motioned to the corpse of Ulon and the unconscious Riker with a dismissive tone.

Expressions of utter confusion were apparent to the gang members. They began to whisper among each other, wondering if Alvin finally went senile or was pushed to the edge by the near-death experience, creating a completely different personality out of nowhere. What the fuck was a nutri-recycler?

A loud and clear snap rang through the room again. "I said, got it?" Kyle stared them down with a stern expression, causing the rest of the gang members to nod their heads vigorously, exiting the room while carrying the dead Ulon and unconscious Riker, leaving Damian alone with Kyle.

Kyle kicked the broken table apart, retrieved the somehow structurally sound chair and sat down on it before staring right at Damian. "Name?"

"Alvin, do you not remember me? What happened to you in that fight? I swear I didn't mean to abandon you; it's just…" Damian rambled, before looking up into Kyle's eyes, seeing that he was extremely serious and not in a joking manner. The blotches of blood that stained Kyle's hair, clothes and face only made it more apparent.

"My name is Damian, leader." Damian formally replied after a few seconds, to which Kyle finally nodded.

"I'm going to be asking some questions. You will answer immediately and directly to the best of your abilities."

Damian nodded. Did he lose all his memories, and another personality took over?

"Good. I only need to know four things. First, economic factors. What is the current state of the economy? Average debt per person?"

"Eco-what?" Damian was already lost.

Kyle took a long deep breath, slowly exhaling in exasperation. Damian rubbed his hands nervously as he saw a glimpse of irritation cross Kyle's face.

"Fine. What is the population of the city?"

"Yes, sir, the city of Raktor is home to approximately eight million people. We are currently in the South Sector." He did lose all his memories.

"What is the level of technology here?"

"Level of technology…? Well, most of the new stuff runs on arctech, machinery and so on. I'm not sure how to explain it…" Damian scratched his head, completely confused as to what Kyle was asking.

Kyle frowned visibly, causing Damian to tense up slightly. "How does this city make money? Do you have a currency system?"

"Make money? Alvin, now you're talking like some strang-" Damian caught himself before he talked any further, aware of Kyle's increasingly frustrated glare. "Ah yes, the city is a big trade hub, so most of the money comes from trading and services. We're at the edge of the empire, bordering two other nations. There are a good number of factories in the South Sector, but they are still fairly new and not scaled up yet; mostly research. The currency is rakels."

"So a nascent industrialisation society…"

"Na-sce-nt?"

"Ignore that. How do the Seven Snakes make money now?"

Damian was familiar with this, having been in the gang for nearly five years. Something Alvin should be familiar with too. "Oh, the usual. We provide protection services to traders and stall owners in this district as well as other shops. We also trade in alcohol and own a few brothels. Or at least we used to."

"Alcohol?"

"Yes, wine, moonshine mostly. There's a citywide ban on alcohol and many other things now, so the gangs have been fighting or negotiating for every inch of territory to cash in on potential customers. That was why we were fighting for that area, Alv… Kyle. Leader, sorry."

Kyle's eyes seemed to light up. It seems that one of his first steps has already been accomplished. "How rich are we now relative to the rest of the city? Top 5%, I assume?"

"Pe-rc-ent? What's that? Actually, we've been in debt since three months ago to the Crimson Swords in the East Sector." Damian said with a sheepish smile.

Kyle's eyes immediately lost their light, but he was unfazed. There was still a chance.

"You mentioned arctech; what's that?"

"Arctech is equipment that relies on energy, specifically arcia energy that can be found stored in arcite ore."

Kyle recalled seeing the term 'arcia energy' in the intrusive purple window previously for Ulon's healing necklace. "Arcite?"

"A mineral that provides arcia energy, other than living beings like us and leylines. Something that powers weapons like your metal pipe."

Kyle checked his still bloodied metal pipe, noticing the runes on it. It did not activate when he was swinging it for some reason.

"How big is our gang? This can't be all the members, right? Where are the rest? I was told by a Red Lion member that we control an entire district."

Damian was a bit ashamed, seeing Kyle ask it with such confidence. "This is the full strength. Twenty men are all we have. We barely have any money to recruit any more. We used to be bigger."

Damian watched Kyle grip the metal pipe even harder, causing him to tremble slightly as Kyle's face seemed to simmer with rage or disappointment.

Kyle pondered for a moment before realising something was missing. "Are drugs banned? Psychedelics? Hallucinatory products?" Kyle tried every term he could think of that Damian would register.

"Ps-ki-eric-ks? Drugs? What? If you're talking about hallucinations, an engraved arctech array or a potion would be able to inflict illusions. We have alchemists in the city, though such potions are ridiculously overpriced and hard to procure. Only the well-to-do use them on the regular for parties…"

A small smile appeared on Kyle's face as he heard the keywords he wanted to hear, which only frightened Damian even more. It was the smile of a businessman knowing he'd found a hole in the market.

"Now we're getting somewhere."

 

[MGDriver]

The next day…

Kyle's entire body was aching. He had overexerted himself during the fight, and his muscles screamed for rest. He sat in an opulent red velvet chair, the bloodstains from yesterday long gone and replaced with a slightly worn formal suit appropriated from the stash of the gang. Ulon's humongous suits clearly did not fit his size.

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 had 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, and his auburn hair was a stark difference from his previous pristine jet-black hair. Clear blemishes, pimples, and terrible skin all made for what Kyle could only refer to as 'mediocre' and hardly attractive. Not an issue now.

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 he survived/woke up in another person's body.

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

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. I was not able to activate the pipe as well. Does this mean my body can't use arctech?




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 before 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. Kyle noticed that the green aura stemmed from the necklace directly rather than his own body. It seems to be using its own internal energy rather than any arcia energy within me, just like what the message said.

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

He inspected the statistics in front of him, his attention drawn to what seemed to be his body's parameters in terms of strength, dexterity intelligence and so on. How do the statistics work?

He noticed that he had a few free points, recalling a message about 'Bonus Free Points' being allocated to him, thanks to the level-up. To figure out how the stats worked, he decided to do a small test quickly.

The easiest one to test now would be strength. Kyle got up from his chair and attempted to lift the bedframe of Ulon's luxurious bed, his arms straining slightly.

Assuming the statistics are linear, let's increase strength by half. I should then theoretically get a fifty per cent boost in strength.




He tried to lift the bedframe again, expecting to be able to do it with ease given the linear boost. However, he could still barely move it himself, though he could tell he was struggling less albeit a tiny bit. Seems like the statistics are not linear.

It would be difficult to prove the equation on which the statistics work without an accurate strength meter. Kyle could not begin to fathom how to even measure intelligence without a Galactic Era Council-approved diagnosis.

He also noted how simple it was to have free points allocated, with almost no implementation delay to his body. Could be useful in a tight situation – I'll save the rest for now.

Kyle explored other features of the holographic interface, especially interested in the description of items that he touched. he tried touching a few items around, such as the chair that he was sitting on and hoping to obtain a message. However, no intrusive purple message appeared. Kyle concluded that it did not work on mundane objects.

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'd 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 with the same map of Raktor parchment, the bloodstains of Ulon cleaned up. 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, yes, but if you're looking for dictation writing or proper calculations, my younger brother can do much better than I can."

"Go."

Damian soon returned with a young kid barely eighteen years old. "He's Keith."

Keith looked up at Damian in utter confusion, mouthing to Damian silently. Doesn't Alvin already know me?

In response, Damian gave him a look that boiled down to: Shut the fuck up and play along.

"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 was slightly excited, having not been able to touch the account books under Ulon. He began to read out loud, using his finger to trace the myriad 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.

When he had learnt about the gang's power ranking in the sector, he had chosen the smallest gang possible in the vicinity – when starting from scratch, it was wise to never aim for the big guns immediately. Kyle did not think he could directly take on the Red Lions or even the Ardent Cretins, the supposed major gang of the South Sector, alone. Kyle was also not intent on being a subordinate and 'climbing the ladder'; he had far better things to do than listen to someone else.

"Ulon 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 a tenth 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 focused on Keith. "You seem like you are good with finances and accounts."

"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 cared for 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. An awkward silence filled the office now, as Kyle thumbed through the account books, while Damian shuffled his feet nervously.

A few minutes passed before Kyle suddenly spoke up. "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 and his own private mercenaries. 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 now, then 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. The same never-ending pipes and barricaded windows dominated the walls, as rickety wagons rattled up and down the cobblestone road.

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 strength of Kyle that drew Damian in, a far cry from the repulsive and irredeemable Ulon. He could not say the same for the rest of the gang members, however.

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 industry would naturally have a consortium or cartel around it. No doubt a strong association… he must have quite a backing then.

The ground around the house was carved with engravings similar to those on Kyle's metal pipe. The engravings were laid out in a circular fashion, forming a sort of defensive line that could go unnoticed as mere scribblings. Upon closer inspection, the lines of the engraving were hardened with metal to prevent accidental tampering.

"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 pretty 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, Kyle reached out 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 tiny 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 with a slight emphasis, much to the confusion of Damian.

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

"You could say that. If your offer interests me, this could be the 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 clearly not the same as what was displayed in the front. Kyle was not one for stereotypes, but the entire place looked like a stereotypical alchemist lair right out of an Ancient Earth fantasy holofilm. "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 stacked in 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 just yet. Could it be a restriction by the Alchemist Guild? With such a high value product, it was only natural for a guild or cartel to control the supply and pricing. Kyle himself had worked with other Crime Lords to artificially control the rate of mining, even though the exotic they were selling back then could be found in abundance. All for profits.

He ran his hand through the various flasks, using the holographic interface to inform him about the item's properties. Kyle still put up an act, acting as though he was oblivious to what the potions could do. As Haui explained certain potions, he continued touching as many flasks as he could, the purple message continuously updating. He only gave each message a cursory glance, before moving on to the next while Haui still talked. There is still a chance of earning more, but only if I find evidence of the right potion here. I need a proof of sorts.

He had just touched his hundredth unique 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."