A Black Market LitRPG-Chapter 83: Democracy

The ravaged strip club that was the Nest hideout was in complete shambles – bodies, broken pieces of glasses and slave collars, pieces of flesh hanging on chairs and bloodstains creeping onto the main stage.

Soldiers were already investigating the place, half of them being Nest hitmen who were secretly picking up evidence. They were slightly shocked at the scale of the damage, not believing that a single person did all of this.

“Is there really a Ghost of Tenar?” One of the lower Wolf-Class hitmen muttered as he checked a dead Nest Guard’s body, entirely stripped of any valuable weapons or equipment.

“Don’t be stupid – we know it was a mercenary hired by Clouds. Just account for everyone – the boss doesn’t want anyone running away. Not like they can.”

They accounted for the bodies, with some that were carved into pieces, a target for the slaves’ outrage at their imprisonment. Scouring the area, they soon reached the VIP room, where Lady Yona was supposed to be.

All they noticed was a single pair of bloodied footsteps walking out like the trails of an evil spirit come to haunt them. Even those who initially laughed at the idea of the Ghost of Tenar began to doubt themselves, witnessing the sheer carnage wrought by the fight in the VIP room.

“Seems like they died in short succession; whoever killed them did it in a few minutes at most. Did not even look like a struggle.” Another Nest hitman remarked.

“That’s nuts – only the boss can do that.”

“Hey, come check this out.” A hitman at the far end of the room beyond the crashed sofas motioned for the rest to come. He held up a piece of Lady Yona’s ripped dress, the ornamental design on it clear as day.

The implications struck them like lightning, their bodies tensing up. “Find her body.” The leader of the hitmen quickly ordered. “Search the entire place quickly! If she’s not here, the entire Nest here in Tenar will be compromised!”

In the government palace, Vice-President Mornero was working through the night, sorting through the paperwork. His secretary was also working hard, toiling away on a separate desk to handle governmental affairs. Both of them were clearly tired, yet the pile of work in front of them seemed never to diminish. Mornero had already lost count of the number of days he had spent sleeping on the couch in the office.

The arctech phone on the secretary’s table rang loudly, shaking Mornero out of his focus. The secretary quickly picked up the phone.

“Vice-President Monero’s office, speaking… What? You still haven’t found the President? Double your efforts – if the public finds out about this, it would be a public disaster for us, do you understand? I don’t care if you have to work through the night – find him!” The secretary slammed the phone before leaning back and rubbing his nose bridge, the sluggishness of long work hours beginning to catch up with him.

“Take a rest, Kalian. Go home. Isn’t your wife waiting for you?” Mornero smiled weakly as he picked up his pen once again, writing down issues he had with a proposal that came from another city council requesting subsidies.

“Are you sure you can handle this on your own?”

“It’s fine. Take it from someone like me – treasure your family while they are still alive.”

Kalian did not know how to reply, knowing very well that Mornero’s entire family had died in the revolution and subsequent war with the Yual Dominion. He did not know the exact details, but he knew better than to pry too deep into his boss’s private life and history.

“Then good luck, sir. I will return earlier in the morning to pick up the slack.”

“No need – this government hardly pays overtime.”

“Then I shall work for free. Good night, Mr. Vice President.” Kalian bowed and took his leave.

Mornero was left alone in the office with the mountain of paperwork in front of him. “I need some fresh air.” He got out of his office chair and walked over to the open balcony. It showed a grand view of the city of Tenar, its brilliant lights and nightlife still bursting with brilliance as the radiance illuminated the low-hanging clouds above.

He took a deep breath, holding it before releasing it slowly, his face relaxing as he watched Kalian leaving the government palace. Suddenly, a light thud could be heard behind him, though he was not frightened nor wary at all. “I already ordered the military to intervene – did you find anything?”

“We have a problem. Lady Yona is missing. Potentially taken by an unknown mercenary.”

“The Ghost of Tenar?” Mornero turned around to face the voice behind him, revealing a well-built man dressed completely in black, a stark contrast to his own brown government suit. “Let’s talk inside.”

The two of them headed into the office, closing the doors while the man from Nest examined the room, ensuring that no one could overhear them.

“Please tell me you know who he is.” Mornero began, sitting back in his office chair. It was obvious the Ghost of Tenar was a weird nickname that was being spread.

“Kris Greyborn. Herbalist from Raktor. Disappeared into the goblin-infested area, never to be seen again. Heard rumours of a forest bandit fort being destroyed, though it was nearly a week later.”

“You’re telling me a herbalist managed to take down more than fifty guards and Lady Yona in one fell swoop? This is a joke, right? What the fuck do I even pay you guys for?”

“He reappeared five months later in the town of Ocra, where he subdued a gang and used them as guides to enter the capital. We have already captured all of the gang members involved, though none of them knows where exactly he came from.”

“All I’m hearing from you are excuses. Are you not the leader in charge of the entire Nest splinter cell here in Versia? This incompetence is starting to irk me. Do you understand the scale of your failure, Mr Nox?” Mornero stood up, glaring at him.

Before Nox could reply, Mornero continued his berating. “Firstly, you failed to capture Minister Dekar at his most vulnerable. The outskirts of the factory district were the best place you could catch him, yet you were unable to even with the improved weapons.”

“Next, you failed to catch him when he was spotted by your very own men running around in the main district, allowing him to re-enter the catacombs. The only thing you have done right so far is riling up the people to place a scandal on the Minister, along with kidnapping the President. If you had fucked that up as well, we might not be having this chat.”

“I can only promise to do better. I will double my efforts at no charge to make up for our failure.” Nox bowed apologetically, apparently sincere.

Monero let out a deep sigh before recomposing himself. “As long as we’re clear on the problem. Don’t you dare let the former President escape – the entire plan hinges on him being in captive.”

“Yes, sir. We have him held at a secure location far from Tenar. He won’t be able to interfere at all.”

“Good, good.” Mornero nodded as he paced the room.

The plan was exceedingly simple from the get-go: remove the President and have any opposing voices silenced as he became the Acting President following the constitution. This would allow him to garner more popularity and more favour. The industrialists backing him have already corrupted the parliament, helping him to achieve a majority. He could propose any bill then and pass it through immediately.

However, this plan was now in jeopardy due to Nox mentioning Lady Yona’s disappearance. “Are you sure Lady Yona was not killed?”

“Her body was not found in the raided Nest hideout. Only signs of her dress being ripped off, which leads me to believe that a hostile force has captured her.”

“Don’t all of you have a self-destruct engraving?”

“Until I find remnants of her charred body, I will not give up the search.”

“What do you need me to do?” Mornero asked. Despite his reluctance to help others clean up their problem, he needed to solve the problem up front – if Lady Yona leaked his plan to the public, it might turn public opinion towards him. As of now, he had to move under the assumption that the plan had already been leaked. This would mean I need to execute faster before the enemy catches on.

“I need the entire incident to be framed as a crime, with the military targeting the Clouds.”

“Clouds?”

“Kris Greyborn was last seen entering and leaving one of their known hideouts, leading us to believe that the Clouds had paid him to attack us. We have confirmation that all of our merchandise is currently under their control.”

“I’ll give the order. We strike tomorrow. Anything else?”

“No, sir.”

“Good, you may leave.”

Nox bowed again before leaving through the balcony, jumping onto the nearest tree before disappearing into the nearby park. The agility of Nox hardly shocked Mornero – the leaders of the Nest were all of top-notch abilities.

Mornero frowned as he contemplated the current progress of the plan. With Lady Yona on the loose, his timeline of four days was far too slow. He had been waiting for this moment his entire life since he joined the revolution as an orphan. He spent twenty years waiting, plotting and acting like part of the original revolutionaries, sharing in their dreams and their ideals. But deep down, his heart continuously burned with a vengeance. The stacks of requests from farmers, towns and city councils lay in front of him on the desk, further fuelling his hatred even further. Useless scum, always asking for handouts or subsidies in a never-ending escalation.

At the corner of the desk was a single hand-drawn portrait of his family, with his father standing proudly. The edges of the photos were slightly burnt, a remnant of the fire that had burned down his entire mansion, killing all but him.

What did my family do wrong? Were we not good caretakers of the land? Were we not loved by the people? His family had owned the land since time immemorial, themselves being Verisans who were given titles of nobility from the Yual Dominion during the first conquest.

Even then, they ensured the prosperity of their people, never taking more than what they needed. His father remained humble, with Mornero and his siblings even regularly helping the farmers and the villagers solve their issues with haste.

Yet despite their centuries of heritage managing the land in harmonious relations with those living under them, they were beset by the fires of revolution, with a foreign revolutionary group from another city coming and asking for their head. The villagers that tried to shield his family from the chaos were slain on the spot, the revolution having no mercy for sympathisers.

And at the head of all of this was the current President, Johan and his lackey, Dekar. Mornero gripped his fist tightly, the anger raging within him. For twenty years, he assimilated into them, hiding among them and helping them. His skills in managing people and logistics made him a suitable candidate to become one of the key figures of the revolution, eventually making him the Vice-President, making it even more ironic as he began to sway people to his side with money and power.

His hatred was directed not only towards the leaders of the revolution but to the common folk as well, who were easily swayed. To him, they were merely sheep and cattle, going where the wind blows with no motives or no convictions of their own. It was the mob mentality that got his family killed and his entire village slain, turning those left against him.

He had lost his name, his bloodline, his heritage, and his belonging. All that mattered to him was to reach the top and flip the entire disgusting state on its head. The people do not deserve to vote! They should have no say in how Versia is run! Why should I listen to every uneducated, homeless citizen on how to run the country, on how budgets should be allocated? All they know is how to form a mob and lynch others as soon as a target, an enemy is painted. Look at how easy it was to pay off a few hundred protestors to commit a public execution to no reason or rhyme.

The thought of the Minister and the President being overthrown by the same methods they used to overthrow the government gave such an invigorating rush to Mornero, his face breaking out into a wide grin as he chuckled to himself over the irony of it all. Once he becomes the President, he will fix the wrongs of this world and restore Versian society to its natural order.

Now… Now it all comes under me!