A Black Market LitRPG-Chapter 42: Demise

Makoa gasped for air as he crawled on the floor, the broken pieces of his metal gauntlet stabbing into his arms. A hand grabbed his head and lifted him up, causing him to grunt in pain.

Kyle bent over and touched the belt of Makoa from behind.

[SYSTEM MESSAGE]

System Message

Lost technology created in the Galactic Era. Limited to humans under 3 meters. Usage dependent on battery levels.

Active Skill: Shield Projection – Generates a thick shield that blocks incoming attacks as well as air

Recommended to toggle lest the user runs out of air.

“Where did you get the energy shield from?” Kyle asked, lifting Makoa up by the neck with one hand alone, hoisting him over the bodies of twenty other Ilysian Punks.

At the side, Sasha spat out a mouthful of blood while she moved her own hands within her bullet wounds, prying out the embedded metal pieces that fragmented within her flesh. Without a sound, she ripped the last metal piece from her thigh, finally activating the healing engraving on her back and sealing up the wound.

“Like I’m fucking going to tell you any-“ Makoa yelled out in pain as Kyle twisted a knife into Makoa’s waist. “Just kill me and get it over with.”

“You’re a precious hostage, and I have someone here who would love to have a chat with you.”

Makoa grinned with his bloodied teeth, half of them missing from the fight. “Are you sure this is over? I’m not the only one in the Ilysian Punks, you know.”

Kyle squinted his eyes while his arctech radio coincidentally crackled into life with Adrian’s voice frantically shouting on the other side. [Kyle, they got another force coming to attack us!]

“Haven’t the Red Lions begun their assault on the Ilysian Punks?” Kyle dropped Makoa to the floor.

[I don’t know what Wrent is planning, but the Red Lions are not making a move at all!]

“Hah, fools!” Makoa laughed with a hoarse throat. “You think the Red Lions are your allies, and you could use them to outplay us? They, too, want to see you in ruins! They won’t make a move until you’ve been wiped clean – only then will they enter this district and steal your potion production methods. General Javel will clean you up and then use this district as a trap for the Red Lions!”

At the northern district, Damian and Niko fought desperately against the new wave of Ilysian Punks who were now attacking the shelter. “Wasn’t it supposed to be not more than two hundred members? Where did these fuckers come from!” Damian roared as he swung wildly with a makeshift club, his former weapon already broken in half.

Niko couldn’t reply, already slumped against the ground, breathing heavily as he tried to put pressure on his waist, which was bleeding profusely. “I… I think we’re fucked…”

“NO! Don’t give up on me, Niko! Stay awake!” Damian roared as he grabbed the arm of an Ilysian Punk and twisted it with using his body as a pivot. “Kyle will come to save us; I believe it!”

What Damian did not know was that for all the enhancements Kyle had from the System, it was not possible for Kyle to reach in an instant. It would take more than five minutes for Kyle to even make it over if he sprinted.

All around him, fellow Seven Snakes associates were falling down, the exhaustion from the hours of combat taking a toll on them and making them sluggish. Compared to the fresh Ilysian Punks, they were no match.

Even Damian was beginning to lose hope, wondering if this was how the Seven Snakes would come to its end. He grunted as he forced himself to keep fighting, trying to stem the tide of Punks. Behind him was thousands of local residents hiding in the basements. It was down to him to defend!

“ARGHHHH!” Damian bellowed as he fought with all his might, throwing punches and kicks. Soon, however, he was grappled to the ground by three Ilysian Punks, restraining him down as he thrashed.

“Shut him up!” The enemy squad leader ordered, with Damian glancing at the blue sky as a metal pipe swung downwards onto him. Just as he flinched instinctively, he heard a cry of pain as the punks holding him down were knocked aside like bowling pins.

Damian opened his eyes to see a fluttering pearlish white coat stained with grime and blood as the wearer swung a warhammer around, smashing the skulls of the punks apart with the glowing yellow tip infused with engravings. What?! An inquisitor?

The inquisitor rampaged through the street, swinging the warhammer with a single hand while her other hand wielded an arctech pistol, firing blatantly at the Ilysian Punks. “COME ON!” The inquisitor yelled, a wide grin on her face as she began to clobber everyone who got close to her.

“Shit, stop her! It’s the Mad Dog Inquisitor!”

Kitana laughed as she kicked a fallen Ilysian Punk’s chin before slamming the head of her warhammer on his head, crushing it into a paste. Her eyes glinted like a predator, marking each of the Ilysian Punks as she moved on like a one-man army, slaughtering her way through the new Ilysian Punk force.

Look at all these EXP bundled up together for me!

The Ilysian Punks were no match for her strength, some of them horrified and trying to flee. Even shooting her was of no use, as the inquisitor coat was layered with projectile defence engravings as well.

Kitana sneered at the fleeing Ilysian Punks members, slamming her feet into the ground. A rush of yellow arcia trails snaked out across the ground with her foot as the source, causing the cobblestone to surge forward and wrap around the legs of twenty or more Ilysian Punks, making them unable to move. They struggled and nearly tripped over themselves as they were all rooted to the spot.

“Wha… what the fuck is this!” An Ilysian Punk managed to exclaim before the warhammer’s head smashed his jaw into smithereens, along with a follow-up strike hitting his knees and snapping them off. The restrained Ilysian Punks were horrified while their allies fled back to their district, carrying the wounded.

Kitana smiled as she slowly walked up to the remaining nineteen Ilysian Punks. “By order of the Inquisition, you shall now be purged.”

General Javel’s face was grim as he watched the smoke plumes spiralling out towards the sky from the Seven Snakes district while Alejandro desperately tried to make sense of what was happening on the ground. “Sir, it seems our forces have been routed by the Seven Snakes. Half are either dead or captured, with the rest fleeing back into our districts.”

“And I assume the Red Lions are gearing up for an all-out attack this very moment.”

“… yes sir. The Wretches are also preparing for war, while the enforcers are aiming to raid us as well. It seems like the gamble has failed.”

“Not yet. There’s still one more card we can play.” General Javel picked up his arctech radio, tuning the frequency to a separate channel. “Sebastian, I know you’re listening on this channel.”

[Always astute as ever, Javel. But it seems that you have been exposed.] Sebastian chuckled through the arctech radio.

“Are you willing to help us?”

[And why would I do that?]

“Don’t play dumb with me. I know that while you’ve been helping us fight against the Red Lions and Wretches, you’ve also been supplying them at the same time. You want this protracted war. With the Seven Snakes tipping the battlefield, your three-way war may be gone.”

[Hmm… an interesting proposition. I accept. I will send you an elite squad, one of our very best. They will arrive at the headquarters within an hour.]

“Thank you.” General Javel ended the conversation, smirking to himself. “Alejandro, relay defensive orders to all units. Distribute all remaining military equipment to whoever is left. We’ll plunge this area into chaos and make them regret attacking us. With the support of the Ardent Cretins, we may be able to negotiate a ceasefire after a week of fighting eventually.”

“Yes, sir.” The Ilysian Punks quickly reformed their defences, preparing for the inevitable counterattack from all sides.

Soon, the elite squad of the Ardent Cretins arrived, decked from head to toe in engraved knight armour along with wielding heavy polearms. Each of them had three arcite fuel packs embedded within the armour, fuelling the heavy consumption of the knight’s armour. While their overall speed was extremely slow, they could take a big punishment.

“Good! Very good!” General Javel nodded happily. “We will have you fight against the Red Lions directly, which now poses the largest threat. Alejandro, you will-“

Before General Javel could complete his words, the closest Ardent Cretin reached out and grabbed Javel by the neck while the rest surrounded him and quickly restrained him. “WHAT? What is the meaning of this? Alejandro, stop them!”

Javel’s eyes landed on Alejandro, who did not react at all and stood quietly at the side. Realization dawned on him, a scowling expression forming on his face. “ALEJANDRO, HOW DARE YOU!”

“Under the authority of Baron Cain, I hereby arrest you for treason and espionage against the Yual Dominion. Illegal smuggling of guns to foreign powers and the formation of secret societies, as well as consistent flouting of the prohibition bans. How do you plead?”

“FUCK YOU, ALEJANDRO!”

“General Javel, you’re too fixated on your heritage to Versia. Why help a homeland that has no gratitude for you? I will not die for a home I have not stepped foot in for twenty years.”

“TRAITOR! Mark my words, once I get out, you and your descendants will suffer! Not even the Grand Waves will save you!” General Javel yelled as he thrashed on the floor before one of the Ardent Cretin delivered a strong punch to his face, knocking him out cold.

“That’s if they even let you go. Take him away and hand him over to the Magda. Bishop Vernette would be pleased.” Alejandro smirked as two Ardent Cretins hauled him away.

[Good work Alejandro.] Sebastian’s voice wafted over the arctech radio.

“Don’t forget your promise,” Alejandro warned.

[Of course, you will get your position among the Ardent Cretins. However, there is still one more part to the deal.]

Alejandro nodded, walking across the room towards an inconspicuous bookshelf. He ran his hands over the bookshelf, feeling the grooves between the books before stopping at a yellow-painted leather cover.

With a single twist, the bookshelf rumbled as it swung open to reveal a hidden elevator leading to a basement deep beneath the ground. Alejandro and two Ardent Cretins entered the elevator, which rumbled as it descended more than five floors underground.

The elevator door swung open to reveal a large storage cavern with countless crates stacked up along its walls. “This is everything the Ilysian Punks have hoarded over the last three years. Guns, potions, gold. This is the main stash. The main entrance is in the West Sector, while the exit is beyond the city walls. “

The two knights inspected the crates, noticing there were far more military technology here than just the shipment that went missing. It seems that the Ilysian Punks had actually been doing this for years rather than a recent thing.

[Ah, so that’s why the shipment of guns went past the Seven Snakes district.]

“It is easier to throw the enforcers off our trails by planting the entrance far away from our area.”

[And the exit?]

Alejandro led the two Ardent Cretins to the far end of the cavern, where the rushing sound of water could be heard.

“An underground river that leads to a cave in a nearby forest, from which couriers can easily pick it up and smuggle them into Versia. The transport route works both ways.”

[Brilliant, Alejandro, you will be rewarded.]

As soon as Sebastian said that, the two Ardent Cretins grappled Alejandro, restraining him from behind. Shocked, Alejandro struggled against the metallic armoured arms that locked his limbs. “I followed your orders to the letter and even gave you the stash! How dare you do this?!”

[The Ardent Cretins has no place for traitors like you, Alejandro. Cut him up and dump the body in the river. I’ll be there shortly.]