A Black Market LitRPG

“Berth 9, wagon arrived ten in the morning. Attacked by small-time thugs, with light damage to its exterior. The driver says that a restaurant was doing roadworks that blocked half of the road. They are really pulling out all the stops this time.” Monica spoke quickly as she walked with Kyle and Keith through the basement, where the main logistics for the shopping arcade were handled.

The basement was filled with wagons unloading food and ingredients, as well as arcite ore from the Culdao Peaks operation. Kyle noticed some of the wagons had severe dents on the side, as well as one whose wheel had been completely torn off, having to be towed in.

“So first they raised the prices to extravagant amounts, and now they are trying to obstruct our deliveries.” Keith shook his head as he entered the administrative office, checking on the books while the clerks frantically jotted down the delivery timings. Each of them reported the timings and events to a manager, who was marking the points in the city where the deliveries were attacked.

“We’ve already lost two wagons today just from hijacking. Niko has been working hard putting guards on each of the wagons, but the manpower is getting intensive.” Monica grumbled as she looked at the map. The majority of deliveries were routed through the Ardent Cretins territory, being the shortest and quickest way out of the city. The Seven Snakes’ three districts were like an island in a sea of enemies.

“I understand,” Kyle replied as he observed the patterns of delivery hits. “The hits seem to be occurring at the same areas all the time. They have formed a net.” It was a bit of an issue – the arcite ore that was replenished by the new renewable energy setups at the Culdao Peaks was theoretically illegal.

Kyle could hardly call in the enforcers to cover it, seeing as his arcite ore would be taxed. Furthermore, word would spread among the nobility that a new arcite ore mine would be found, which would jeopardise his entire goblin operation. Gulak certainly would not be happy.

“Any hits done by the Ardent Cretins?”

“No. Every hit seems to be done by hired thugs. It seems the Ardent Cretins are being especially careful.” Keith shook his head.

“Or, it is really the group of companies opposing us that are really having a beef.” Monica pointed out. “The patterns seem more like a loosely organised attempt at disruption rather than a centralised force. I suspect the companies are working alone for various reasons.”

“Who are the companies so far?”

Keith shrugged. “Well, just about every food supplier in the South Sector has refused to do business with us. Thanks to Haui’s connection, we’re buying them from the North Sector now, but they still have a chance of getting intercepted in the Ardent Cretin’s territory.”

“Okay. Call Damian and Guang Hwa in. It’s time for some payback.”

“God damnit! Not again!” Solomon crushed the slip of paper in his hand into a small little ball as he tossed it into a basket at the corner of his office. The arctech radio on his table seemed to gloat at him as it continued to rattle off, the announcer’s voice filling the room.

[And it looks like it’s lights out for Team Rising Stars, who unfortunately has just suffered a severe arctech malfunction. This might very well be the end of their championship run!]

Fuck! I put half my savings on this bet! Solomon cursed under his breath as he quickly took out his accounting book, flipping through quickly and checking the profits. His pudgy finger traced down the column of expenses, his face scowling.

“Secretary!” He roared as he stormed out of his office, frightening the administrative clerks right outside. Solomon marched up to a scrawny’s man table, his bulky build intimidating him into a shivering mess.

“Boss, I didn’t do anything wrong! It wasn’t my fault!”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“You’re angry about the failed hijacking yesterday, right?”

“What on earth are you saying? I’m angry about the expenses we’ve been spending on amenities for the workers! Why is there a three hundred thousand rakels cost for the fucking renovations!”

“But boss, last week you said to the workers that you wanted to improve the living standards of their dormitory-“

“I want you to reverse it. Immediately!”

“The backlas-“

“I don’t care about the backlash from the workers. Cancel it immediately!” Solomon grumbled as he walked out of the office onto a catwalk overlooking a factory where potatoes were being processed manually by thousands of workers.

There were not many big specialised machines on the factory floor for mass stripping or cleaning, with the workers instead washing and peeling the potatoes to prepare them for packing, storing them away in arctech cooler boxes to keep the potatoes fresh. The largest machine that Solomon had purchased was a conveyor belt, as the cost of labour in Raktor was extremely low due to the extreme poverty many of the slum dwellers faced.

Solomon walked along the catwalk to another office, where a frustrated subordinate was arguing on the phone. “If you don’t accept the new contract, you can forget about getting your food ever again in the South Sector!”

[I’ll take my chances with the Seven Snakes – they seem to be doing pretty well with the shopping arcade. Goodbye, cocksucker.] The restaurant owner on the other end hung up, causing the subordinate to be frustrated, the veins on his forehead nearly popping.

“What’s going on? Why did he cancel the contract?” Solomon interrupted the subordinate’s solo tantrum show, prompting the subordinate to regain his senses and bow to Solomon quickly.

“Uhh, sir, remember how we talked about sanctioning any businesses related to the Seven Snakes?”

“Yeah? What about it? What’s wrong now?”

“Well, it’s already been two weeks since we started, but the shopping arcade hasn’t collapsed yet.”

“I know – that’s why we’ve been targeting their deliveries, haven’t we?”

“Yes, but the footfall there is immense – it’s drawing away customers that would have normally gone to the restaurants we supply!”

Solomon’s face twitched slightly. “That’s exactly why we did the sanctions: to prevent that exact scenario from happening!”

“Sir, it’s already happening. Today alone, we just lost five restaurants. They are all relocating to the Seven Snakes district area.”

“Fucking twats, get some hired thugs to beat them up!”

“That’s what I tried to do yesterday, but our hired thugs got beaten up instead by the Seven Snakes! The restaurants are being treated like VIPs!”

Solomon did not reply just yet, pondering as he paced the room, looking at the piles of paper of cancelled supply contracts. First, I lose half of my savings, then I lose my customers. The sanctions were supposed to bring money, not fallout like this!

“So what do you suggest? You must have a plan in mind.” Solomon asked.

“… I believe the only way out of this is to work with the Seven Snakes.”

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND?! Imagine the humiliation I will have to face for being a traitor to the other companies!”

“Yes, but think about it! Based on our current rate, we’re operating at a loss – we won’t be able to survive the month!” The subordinate retorted. “Especially considering you just blew half of our cash. Don’t think I don’t know you used the factory funds to bet on the races.”

Solomon wanted to retort but calmed himself down, thinking rationally. He’s right. At the rate we’re going, the sanctions are unsustainable. But being a turncoat is even worse… Or is it?

“Send a letter to the Seven Snakes asking for parley. If we are the first to turn over, the Seven Snakes must be more than willing to sign a beneficial contract with us.”

The subordinate immediately got to work, quickly drafting up a letter. Solomon was about to head back to his personal office when he suddenly heard a commotion from the factory floor, a loud clamour. What the fuck is going on?

“Comrades! How long will you toil under an ungrateful master? How long will you suffer and work aimlessly, only to be thrown to the side once your limbs have been dried out? How long?” An agitator dressed just like them was speaking out.

The workers were still slightly confused by the new guy who had just been hired the day before. Wasn’t he a newbie? Why is he standing on three crates?

However, the words he spoke resonated deeply with many of the workers’ hearts, and a sense of disenchantment surrounded them. “High above you, the owner of this factory grins down at you, thinking of all of you as simple sheep, mindless and obedient!”

“But the boss said last week he was going to renovate the dormito-“

“Is that true? Are you sure? Do not believe the lies of the owners unless you see them and hear them for yourself! Behold, the secretary of the boss himself!” The agitator motioned with his hand, prompting a burly partner to drag forward the secretary, captured during his toilet break.

“What the fuck?! SECURITY!” Solomon yelled at the top of his lungs, sprinting as fast as his overtly obese body would allow him to, heading down to the factory floor.

The panicking secretary immediately nodded his head as he was lifted up high by one hand, screaming out in fear. “It’s true! The boss just cancelled the renovation!”

“What?!”

“Why? He just promised us last week?”

“What the fuck is this? I promised my family we would have a nicer room to move into!”

The workers began to get more agitated, while the factory guards began to charge towards the agitator. “Don’t let those two fuckers get away!” Solomon roared.

“Damian, run!” Guang Hwa screamed, quickly sprinting away. Damian was a bit astounded at the speed with which Guang Hwa fled. He had pegged him for a man with minimal physical capabilities. When it comes to saving his own skin, he sure can put in the work.

Damian was not as fast as Guang Hwa, being tangled up in a fight with the factory guards who swung batons at him. Activating his ‘Harden’ tattoo, he shrugged off all the attacks, delivering a straight one-two punch to each of them, knocking them out cold.

Ever since Keith had been kidnapped, Damian had been tirelessly working his ass off, improving his arcia energy flow as well as synchronising his attack with his new engraving skill. He built himself into a much more muscular build, going above and beyond in his training routine. As it stands right now, he could flip an arctech wagon if he really wanted to.

With the guards knocked out, Damian made his escape easily, running in a separate direction from Guang Hwa.

Solomon was enraged, shouting and screaming at the workers. “What are you numbskulls doing! Go and chase them!”

Instead of listening, the workers all began to converge on Solomon, their eyes filled with rage.

“Where’s the dormitory renovation you promised us?!”

“What did you do with the money?”

“It’s none of your business! Back off now otherwise, you won’t have a job!” Solomon threatened, but it fell on deaf ears as the workers started to physically grab him.

“Don’t dodge the question!” One of the workers grabbed Solomon by the collar before being quickly slapped away onto the ground by him.

“You dare touch me?! ME?! I AM YOU-“ Before Solomon could enter his final form, the workers all began to attack him, throwing punches, kicks and potatoes from afar.

Solomon cowered and rolled on the floor, scampering away from the angry horde of workers as he tried to escape the factory. Fuck, I can’t die here!

The workers began to trash the factory, stealing whatever valuable parts there were from the nearby machinery. Some of the more desperate workers began hauling sacks of arcite ore out from the factory, hoping to make a quick buck.

My assets! How am I going to repay back my debts now? Solomon nearly cried to himself as he limped out of the factory, hearing the loud bangs and explosions behind. The tears he shed were not for the administrative clerks and subordinates being beaten up by the workers but for the amount of loans he had taken out to build the factory in the first place.

It’s no problem. I’m sure the Ardent Cretins will lend me more money! I just have to talk to Sebastian, and everything will be right as -. Solomon was suddenly grabbed by the collar for the second time that day as soon as he stepped out onto the street, surrounded by five Seven Snakes associates who stared daggers at him.

Kyle smiled as he lifted Solomon up with one hand despite the weight, causing his stubby legs to dangle. “You!?” Solomon was shocked.

“Hello, dear factory owner. You seem to be in trouble. Perhaps the Seven Snakes can be of assistance?”