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. He was just cannon fodder, after all. A weak boy sold off by his parents to the gang as repayment for their loan.

"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 cross the entrance to the alleyway, but instead of backing off or trying to flee, he smirked at the two of them, locking eyes with them.

"Having a good day, sir? Hopefully, nothing to see here?" The gang member had a wide grin on his face as his hand rested on a metal pipe on his belt.
The law enforcers glanced at the gang member, recognising his outfit and equipment before slightly bowing with a bit of apprehension and fear. "Of course, nothing to see at all. You have a good day too."

"That's good. Better keep on walking." The gang member chuckled as the enforcers picked up the walking pace. He walked back to the other gang member, who was still checking the body for anything good.

"Seems like there's nothing here…."

Suddenly, the body jerked violently, thrashing in place 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 still. The two gang members glanced at each other, hesitant about what the next few steps were. Nothing particular came to mind, but in such an environment, violence was the best solution.

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

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

As the lead attacker fell, Alvin dodged another hit from the second attacker, flipping his body and recovering into a standing position while still gripping the wrist of the lead attacker, twisting it slightly, making the man wince in pain.

With a stomp, the arm of the lead attacker was broken cleanly, allowing Alvin to retrieve the pipe and fend off the second guy. A single parry was all that was needed to catch him off guard before Alvin performed a frontal stab with the metal pipe, knocking the man back onto the ground.

In a fluid motion, Alvin lunged at the second attacker before he hit the ground, grabbing his face and slamming it down into the hard concrete, knocking him out cold.

The lead attacker watched in horror as Alvin began to turn around and walked back slowly towards him before kneeling down on his broken arm. Alvin rested the tip of the pipe on the lead attacker's thigh while the man 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 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 enchanted metal pipe slammed down hard onto the thigh of the lead attacker, causing him to scream out loud in pain before Alvin used the pipe and smacked his cheek, ripping off a bit of skin.

"Answer the questions."

"I…I don't know who the fuck Xanius is! What the fuck is an exosuit?" The lead attacker yelled back as he thrashed on the spot, a reflex from the incredible amount of pain that arced through his entire body.

Alvin looked carefully at the lead attacker's eyes and expression for a good twenty seconds before finally releasing him. The lead attacker let out a sigh of relief, watching Alvin walk back to the unconscious second attacker.

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

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

The lead attacker did not wait around, 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; his shin fractured by the kick from Alvin. How had he suddenly become so strong?

Before he could move any further, a strong grip lifted him from his collar, tossing him back against the wall with a loud thud.

Alvin knelt 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, too, though there seemed to be clear signs of a second fight. Blood that was much fresher and more recent.

That detail put him on guard, holding his pipe at the ready. "I don't care who the fuck you are, don't think you can just mess around on the Red Lion's turf!" Riker shouted in bravado.

"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, 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 he bore the brunt of the pain and recovered into a fighting stance. The sight shocked him, however. "You? The idiot?"

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

Alvin was already on top of him, swinging the metal pipe down with the utmost precision, targeting all the major limbs and joints. 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? Don't you know who I am? The Red Lion 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 with a stern expression, 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."

---

 

[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.

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.

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.

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."

 

[mgdriver]

"Sir, are those potions really worth it? Mind-bending doesn't last long, and that's a bit too many Stamina Recovery Potions. Sure, the Stamina Recovery Potions are relatively 'cheap', but they will be impossible to reverse engineer as well. Alchemy has always had the highest failure rate in terms of industries. Too much prior knowledge is required to make even a basic potion… sir."

Damian was still coming to terms with how much Kyle had spent on the potion, twelve thousand rakels, despite the fact that they were still in debt.

Kyle did not reply. With the scientific knowledge he had from his former life, distillation would be a cinch. He did not need Damian's approval either for now.

The food market was still just as crowded as when they first arrived, hectic and bustling with activity. The locals seemed to be on lunch break, gossiping about everything under the sun. Kyle took a slower walk, keeping his ears peeled for any rumours. A vital skill in a foreign environment.

"Did you hear? The Veiled Angels subjugated three gangs in a row in the West Sector!"

"Wow, so the Violet Devils are neck and neck for domination, aren't they?"

"Yea, they both hold twelve districts each. I feel bad for the gangs trapped in the last remaining six districts. A bloodbath is going to happen over the next few months, for sure. I only hope the Sanctum of Yual would not intervene this time; it would be even worse."

Thirty districts in a sector… Kyle was listening intently when Damian slightly tugged his shoulder to the side. "Sir, see those two? Local enforcers of the Sanctum."

He pointed to two men nearly covered in white from head to toe, only the engravings of gold and red on their shirts, pants and shoes breaking the monotony. They were simply patrolling, checking the stalls of the food market.

"Sanctum?"

"The main religion of the Yual Dominion." Damian sighed internally, now truly believing Kyle was a completely different personality of Alvin. "They enforce the law of the Yual Dominion around here, though the local enforcers usually close one eye on gang activity. They are far too understaffed to make a difference here even if they wanted to, though it would be best if we do not directly conflict with them."

Another significant power to watch out for. Kyle frowned. He had long forgotten the feeling of being a small fry in a big pond. Back in his former life, he had been the most prominent crime lord for a long time, dominating entire clusters of stars. Perhaps that was why I was so easily betrayed at the end…

The two walked back to the gang's base through the food market.

As they neared the entrance, Kyle suddenly spun around and faced Damian directly. Damian gulped, reminded of how brutal Kyle was against Ulon, the same stern expression worn on Kyle's face as he stared hard at him.

"Damian, was it? I understand none of the gang members have been formally educated nor trained, with the exception of Keith."

"Huh? Yes, indeed. We never had the money to."

The best underlings are loyal ones who are competent. As of now, they seem to be lacking in both physical and mental training…

Kyle frowned, not replying and re-entering the Seven Snakes base. He did not really pay attention to it the first time he entered, but now he focused more on the décor, layout, and furnishing.

"How big is this base?"

"Sir, we own the entire basement floor of this building. It is only one floor though, a downsize from our previous five-storey building that was lost."

"I assume lost because of debt," Kyle remarked.

Damian nodded timidly. Why was he feeling ashamed of how far the gang had fallen? Perhaps it was because he had been singled out as the oldest gang member, making everything seem like it was his fault.

"Show me around."

"Sir, you've already seen your office and your –"

"I meant everywhere else. I want to see the rest of the base."

It was unheard of for gang leaders to actually leave the vicinity of their rooms and office, much less tour the quarters or common areas shared by the members. What if they poisoned him? Backstabbed him?

Damian glanced at Kyle's face, who didn't seem to give a shit. He conceded, bringing him on a tour of the base.

The base layout was exceedingly simple. The entrance led into a short hallway, immediately splitting off in a T-junction. To the right was the gang leader's quarters, including the office, personal room and shower. Left was the rest. A big, bold red sign indicated that clearly.

Upon turning left, the two entered a large open common area joined to rooms along the side. The common area was filled with junk of all sorts. Heaps of broken metal, twisted wooden frames and half-crushed pipes were stacked on the corners.

At the centre, the gang members were out in force, playing games with each other on snooker tables the size of a room or training on sandbags and weights in the middle. A stolen arctech speaker playing garbled music echoed against the carpeted floor and dusty walls. The layout was extremely haphazard.
Most just lazed about, lying or chilling on one of the many benches and sofas laying about, some obviously stolen from an aristocrat's setting, with the prior pink fluffy colour now a diminished brown-stained mess.

Kyle's eyebrow twitched slightly upon seeing the rampant mess. He was not one to fret about cleanliness, considering that he had been regularly covered in blood since day one. However, it was the sheer disarray and lack of organisation amongst them that really got to Kyle.

"Damian. I would like to ask you a simple question."

Damian froze, noticing the fearsome expression on Kyle's face. "…Anything, sir."

"Are you invested in making this gang better? You've been here the longest."

It was a hard question. In hindsight, Damian knew he could have left the gang anytime. There used to be people that he cared for in the gang, but five years of continuous fighting and hustling was a long time. Now he was the last of his generation. Should he jump ship with his younger brother?

Damian immediately disregarded that thought. He owed it to his former friends to make the gang the best he could. This was the reason why he even stayed on when Ulon was the gang leader. He was still slightly on the fence about whether Kyle would be a good gang leader, unable to shake the impression of the formerly weak Alvin.

"Yes, sir, I am." Damian resolved himself, answering truthfully.

"Good. From now on, you are in charge of discipline and training."

"Discipline? What?"

"Let me provide an example. Gather everyone here."

Damian began to gather everyone while Kyle waited patiently, standing near the entrance of the common area. It took close to ten minutes or so for all twenty gang members to assemble, and even then, they were standing in a disorderly manner, some yawning and scratching their heads. Only Damian and Keith were standing firmly.

"It's the second day since I took over the leadership of the gang." Kyle began.

"I've noticed a clear lack of discipline, training and organisation among you all. You two, run over to the other end of the common area, touch the wall and come back." Kyle pointed to two random gang members.

The two gang members looked around, trying to figure out whom Kyle was pointing to before they realised it was them. The request didn't click in their head, making them confused.

"Huh? Me? Why the hell would I do tha-"

"RUN!" Kyle suddenly bellowed with such force that the two random gang members nearly shat themselves before they began to run, reminded of the sheer brutality Kyle had inflicted on Ulon just a day ago. The other gang members were shocked at the strength of Kyle's shout.

They ran as fast as they could, touching the wall before coming back, but they began to slow down upon returning, obviously tired from sprinting the distance.

"How far was that other wall?" Kyle asked Damian, who looked lost, trying to estimate the answer in his head.

"About 25 meters from here, sir," Keith answered.

"You're telling me two of our members who are involved in protecting stalls, traders and our businesses are unable to sprint for more than twenty-five meters?"

No one replied, their heads kept low, ashamed by the performance of their fellow gang members. Some even felt they might not do any better themselves either. The two returning gang members panted and heaved, looking as though they had just finished a marathon.

"Hey, fuck you, Alvin!" One of the braver gang member stood up to Kyle, incensed at the entire thing. "You think you're a bigshot now just because you got lucky in killing Ulon? We ain't all pushovers nor dumb – you must have drugged that bitch to hell and back!"

"Are you crazy? Keep your head down!" His friend tried to convince him, but he shrugged it off.

"Hell no! We really gonna let this weak Alvin fucker just walk all over us like that? Ulon is one, but this fodder? We all know he cheated!" The brave gang member postured, pushing his way past the gang members to stand in front of Kyle, bravado leaking through.

Kyle smiled as though he had already been expecting this, though he did not make a move.

The brave gang member grinned. "Look at this, lads. All this weak cunt can do is stand and smile, there's no way in hell he beat Ulon fairly in a-"

Before he could continue, Kyle grabbed the gang member by the face and swept him from under his legs, slamming him down hard onto the ground with a loud crash. The gang member barely moved, unconscious from the sudden attack. Kyle let out a deep sigh, returning back to his original position as though nothing has happened.

The rest of the gang members tried their best to avoid looking at the fallen gang member, though it was clearly impressed onto them that Kyle was most likely even tougher than Ulon had been. No one dared to step out against him now.

"Next, you two. Lift that sofa up and move to that position. Before placing it down, hold it for thirty seconds."

The next pair didn't hesitate this time. They lifted a heavy three-seater sofa but could barely lift it and dropped it onto the floor within ten seconds.

Kyle sequentially gave each pair a different physical task in the common area, with the gap between tasks reducing with each passing minute, causing them to exert even more strength. Moving things, sprinting, lifting, shuttle runs to pick up random pieces of trash. Even Damian and Keith were not spared from the physical tasks.

The gang members were not dumb: they were clearly aware that they were being forced to clean up the place. Little by little, they saw the direct result of the work, some even beginning to joke among each other as they picked up litter and rubbish from months ago.

After thirty minutes, the gang members were all tired and sweating profusely, staining the armpits and back of their shirts. Yet they were not angry at all at Kyle, instead feeling good about the place being cleaned up.

They stood in a loose group, marvelling at the transformation of the common area from a literal trash heap to a functioning room, furniture no longer haphazard and wildly placed. Even the trash and litter on the floor and the bulky heaps of broken metal were all nicely aligned to one corner.

"Holy shit, have you ever seen the common area look like this before? I didn't even know it could look like this." They murmured among each other for a minute, admiring the work they'd done. Ulon had never done anything like this before, and suddenly Kyle did not seem like such a bad leader after all. They knew they would have never cleaned up the place if it were not for his orders.

"Every day." Kyle suddenly spoke, causing the gang members to turn around and face him.

"Every day, I will come into the common area. If it does not even look remotely like this, Damian will be responsible. You will all report to me in this manner, standing in a row every morning at the crack of dawn, understood?"

"Yes sir!" The gang members were much more receptive now to Kyle, after witnessing the good results of their work.

"The structure of membership is now redefined. All of you are associates, except Damian who will act as both underboss and acting captain from now on. Through the training and a vetting process, you will then be inducted in as 'vipers', proper members. Work hard."

Damian's face glowed tremendously, knowing how big it was to be declared as the underboss, the effective second-in-command. Ulon had never allowed anyone to be the underboss in his entire reign.

The gang members, now associates, were also slightly excited about receiving training. None of them wanted to remain weak and dishevelled like they were under Ulon, or be as dumb as the brave gang member who was still knocked out unconsciously, stacked along with the trash pile. Already among them, there were some bets on who could become a viper first.

Kyle beckoned for Damian and Keith to follow him, returning to the office. "Do you understand now?"

Damian nodded vigorously. "You provided seemingly meaningless orders, but all the small little tasks eventually became something great. It instils into them a simple idea: ' if I listen, good things will happen.'. The membership hierarchy is great as well."

"Not as eloquent as I would put it, but yes. All tasks I provide will point towards a greater goal or objective. Moving on, the physical training regime shall be done in this manner, with the objective of strengthening their overall physical capabilities first and foremost. Write down what I am about to say."

Keith nodded, sitting at Kyle's desk and scribbling down whatever Kyle dictated. Some of the words flew way over his head and had to be replaced with something similar. Soon, the training regime was completed on parchment, with Damian going over it once.

Damian's eyes bulged as he continued reading each line. "This… this is madness! No human can exercise this long without assistance! How can we possibly complete this?"

"You will." Kyle retrieved the dozen Stamina Recovery potions he bought in from Haui's shop, placing them on the table.

 

[mgdriver]

In the Red Lions' base…

The Red Lions were much larger than the Seven Snakes. The gang controlled four districts in total, with more than three hundred men in total.

Each of the three subordinate districts was controlled and managed by separate sub-leaders. They were now eyeing the Seven Snakes district, which would be an easy kill. However, they were not the only enemy facing the Red Lions, with both larger and smaller gangs trying to test them with small skirmishes.

No gang wanted a full-out bloodbath between gangs – they were here to make money, not to be mass murderers.

At this very moment, the sub-leader of the adjacent district to the Seven Snakes was training hard against a wooden dummy in a massive training yard nested between buildings. Winding up a punch that caused the reddish armour set to elicit striking neon blue lines reminiscent of arcite fuel, he delivered a devastating strike, cracking the wooden dummy figure into half.

Two Red Lion associates ran up to him, getting down on one knee while waiting for the sub-leader to acknowledge their presence. He panted slightly, grabbing a towel from a servant and wiping off the sweat on his scarred forehead. He ran his other hand through his spiky dark red hair before tossing the towel back and nodding towards the two underlings. "Speak."

"Boss Wrent, we still can't find any trace of Riker. We suspect another rival gang has imprisoned him."

"Who did it?"

The associates looked at each other before one gulped and bowed lower. "Boss, I think it's the Seven Snakes."

A loud bellowing laughter roared through the yard. "Ridiculous! Against us?! The Left Paw of the Red Lions?! That fat slob Ulon and his measly twenty men would never be able to pull off such a feat."

"But boss, Riker was last seen heading towards their district, where we recently took over ownersh-"The associates paused as Wrent raised his hand.

"Or maybe a bigger gang has impersonated them and is trying to get us to fight each other. I would not put it past the Ilysian Punks or the Wretches, and it won't be the first time they did such a thing. Our main headquarters is still at war with them. Focus your search on the punks from Versia."

"Yes, boss. What do we do about the Seven Snakes now?"

Wrent currently had more than sixty men under him, three times the number of the Seven Snakes. However, a cornered animal was just as dangerous as a wounded one. Wrent was playing the slow game. Any pyrrhic victory would leave him weak and vulnerable to the other sub-leaders and external rival gangs.

If I can subjugate the Seven Snakes while the headquarters and other sub-leaders are busy with the Ilysian Punks and Wretches, it would be a big boost to my reputation and allow me more of the take.

"Carry out my orders. Keep an eye out for any booming businesses of the Seven Snakes. The moment any of them stand out, we will slowly target them one by one with persistent harassment, crippling their finances. They are already in debt, which would eventually force them to capitulate without a single loss of life on our side."

The next day…

Kyle observed intently as he poured out a tenth of the Stamina Recovery potion, mixing it with stored rainwater as the base, representing nine parts. He then swirled the mixture around before pouring it into an empty flask, filling it to the brim.

Kyle immediately put down the diluted potion and picked it back up.

"Finally, the entire list of ingredients is visible to me. The exact recipe might be missing, but it's a start." Kyle quickly retrieved the Mind-Bending Potion.

The description had barely changed, much to his frustration. "Looks like I don't have the necessary skills to see such a complicated recipe yet." Kyle mused to himself, noting a difference in the number of ingredients between the two types of potions.

He repeated the process of diluting the Stamina Recovery Potions, but no new titles, skills or information appeared. "I'm relying a bit too much on this holographic interface, it seems, a very addictive approach. Perhaps when I get back to the Melsura Star Sector, I should buy out the VR game industry as much as possible…"
With now a hundred and twenty diluted potions, he ordered Damian and another gang member to distribute them to the training gang members, who were now undergoing a hellish regime.

Kyle called for Keith. "How much cash reserve do we have?"

"Uhm, about twenty thousand rakels since you spent the other half on the potions. That was last month's revenue." Keith was much more receptive to Kyle now as they had witnessed the relative increase in competency, especially with the increased discipline.

"What are our current expenses?"

"Hmm, food, utilities, equipment maintenance. It should amount to ten thousand rakels, assuming five hundred for each gang member. This also considers that there would be no future fights with the other gangs."

Kyle was reminded that Riker was still imprisoned by them. If I let him go, the Red Lion would come running at us. I can't afford a fight now. Seeing as they have not approached us yet, no need to stir the pot now. Let's keep it that way.

"Are you familiar with Poair Leaf and Greis Powder?" Kyle asked.

"Huh? Oh yea, they are pretty basic ingredients. Used quite a lot in simple bandages and as a spice for food. It is quite abundant in the food market area."

Kyle's eyebrows twitched slightly. He recalled seeing a large amount of Poair Leaf crates in the alchemist's basement. Each crate could probably hold about a thousand kilograms based on his estimates, and judging by the size of the potion, not many need to be used for each potion. Very interesting…

"How much is each of the ingredients?"

"Erm…" Keith tried to recall in his head. "Maybe about a thousand two hundred for a sack of Poair Leaf, two thousand four hundred for the Greis Powder."

"Good, go out and buy a sack each and come back. Try to remain inconspicuous as much as you can."

"Yes, sir."

"Wait. While you're out there, buy a sack of Euria Seeds."

"Raw or crushed, sir? Do you need a smoking pipe as well? It will cost about six thousand seven hundred."

"Raw. No, no pipe needed."

While Keith was gone, Kyle quickly calculated. Each Stamina Potion was sold to me by Haui for six hundred rakels. Assuming I can nail down the recipe, I can potentially enter a price war with him. However, I will have to add something more unique to the concoction…

The sacks arrived, though they were a bit too bulky to be placed in the office, so they were stored in the common area. The associates were currently resting from their training, gulping down their diluted Stamina Recovery Potions. It was not super effective, but every little bit helps.

Some of them watched as Kyle scooped a handful of each into separate smaller bags before heading into the kitchen. "What the hell is Alvin up to now? I'll like to say that I prefer this personality compared to the weak one before, but isn't this too drastic of a change? Is he a chef now?"

"Better than the shitty Ulon who just lazed around. I actually feel more productive now. I can somehow see the makings of a great gang."

"Man, I joined the gangs to fuck around, not get drilled this hard." One of the associates was still reticent about the entire training regime, lolling about on the sofa. However, he still secretly appreciated the clear growth plan set forth, already fantasising about him becoming a bigshot in the future. He just did not want to work that hard for it.

"Rested enough, associates?" A stern voice suddenly spoke from behind. "If you have time to chat, you have time to train and get stronger. We haven't completed the exercises today. Move!" Damian ordered.

As the associates continued their first training under the supervision of Damian, Kyle was in the kitchen, arranging the ingredients out nicely.

Kyle grabbed a single seed, looking around the kitchen to find anything to crush it with. However, the kitchen was extremely barebones, only having the basic utensils. In fact, it looked like they barely cooked at all. Kyle now understood why they had been buying food from the food market.

None of the gang members knew how to cook nor had the money to hire a cook.

Instead of being angry, he focused his efforts on the current task. He placed the seed in a small stone bowl, using his metal pipe's tip and smashing it slightly, careful not to break the bowl as well. The seed was now flattened, with the oil squeezed out.

He carefully poured out the oil into a flask before holding it up to examine.

He crushed a few more seeds in this manner before collecting enough to fill a flask. The description did not change, prompting him to boil it over a stove.

A copious amount of blue smoke began to waft out of the kitchen, attracting the attention of the exercising gang members. "That's… that's a lot of smoke for a Euria pipe. Should we check?"

"Maybe he runs on Euria fumes?"

"Idiot, you want to antagonise Alvin when he's in this state? No fucking way!"

Kyle waited until nothing was left to boil, only a dark yellow residue left behind. After the flask had cooled down, he picked it up to check.

He then used a separate flask to mix the Poair Leaf and the Greis Powder along with water, trying to get the ratio right. Too many leaves, and it was simply tea. Too much Powder, and it was more of a sludge. Too much water and nothing at all. Each flask could only hold two hundred and fifty millilitres, based on his estimate.
He soon had five flasks going in sequence, boiling them in tandem for different durations. He checked them all, frowning when the holographic interface did not pop up, which meant he failed.

However, with the sheer brute force of combination, he finally managed to figure out the recipe. "15% of each, the rest water, boiled for three minutes."

He did not receive another title or skill, but it was good enough. He then took the dark yellow residue, dropping a small amount into the potion.

A small smile appeared on Kyle's face as he read the description. "Our first drug. Time to begin."