We were standing on the stone base of a portal — the standard destination point of Teleportation Scrolls. Thick currents of players and NPCs surrounded the platform, everyone in haste to get somewhere. It was an unimaginable mishmash of mounts, pedestrians, and carriages. Birdies soared in the air above the crowd, amidst flying boats full of passengers.
So that was the famous Bazaar? I looked around. A city stretched out before me, reaching the horizon. But was it really a city? It looked more like an enormous, bustling marketplace. Dull pillars of colossal towers shot up from narrow streets between one- and two-story houses. I counted thirteen of them, but that was clearly not the end of it, with some of them hidden beyond my sight. At varying height, those towers were surrounded with round docks for flying ships, reminding me of choker necklaces.
Aircraft... I had never seen so many at once. Hundreds of them circled the sky above the Bazaar, coming in many colors, shapes, and sizes. Endless lines of vessels, their sails raised high, flocked toward the tower docks, taking up the wharves in the order of arrival, and the other ships departed, while some continued to hover above, seemingly aimlessly. I could bet that collisions happened here every day.
In front of my eyes, an Astral Portal lit up in the sky, and a dark carcass poured out of it, the same size as the Stormbringer, but very different in look. The Pandas’ juggernaut was a colossus stylized to look vicious and battle-ready. This one mostly reminded me of a bunch of barrels tied together with a pile of sails.
“A nave!” Green explained to me. “A large-capacity freighter with its own spelljumper.”
It was a rare and expensive ship that only extremely rich alliances could afford. We couldn’t even dream about having one. In Eyre, the entire city would stare slack-jawed at that flying monster; here, its arrival was unremarkable, and nobody even seemed to notice.
I felt like a backwater youth standing at a train station in a large city. Oh, screw that. The Bazaar’s auction was inside one of these towers, and having made up my mind, I tagged along with Green, wedging myself into the crowd.
Those narrow streets full of trade stands, shops, and noisy NPCs made me think of old Eastern flea markets. Around me, everything was riddled with signboards, and babbling merchants grabbed my clothes, trying to draw me to their goods. Hawkes yelled, drumming up customers. Creatures of all races roamed the streets; the Bazaar’s NPC population was extremely multinational.
That was some aggressive marketing. Everything could be bought here: food, fruits, clothing, armor, weaponry, carpets, houseware, books... We passed through an entire quarter of magic shops, and I barely resisted going inside. A savvy tiefling almost sold us a set of Rainbow Rings when we were careless enough to stop by an amulet stand, and a half-naked girl with the body of an ancient goddess invited us in for some private time, seductively licking her pink lips. She looked really tempting, despite the animal ears sticking out from her hair.
“What a girl!” Green winked at me. “They say, beastgirls are real feisty in bed... Mind if we pay them a visit and check?”
I hadn’t been to in-game brothels before and honestly, was in no hurry to do so — hadn’t I seen enough VR girls already? It was the same old thing, only local flavor. I shook my head in refusal, Green sighed in disappointment, and we continued on our way.
Our goal was the auction.
The tower entrance was bursting with players and NPCs. Who would have thought there would be so many of them? They walked in and out, ran, jumped, and summoned mounts. Navigating in the crowd, Green and I closed in on the giant structure hanging over our heads, and the shadows of arriving and departing Astral ships fell down on us. I raised my eyes, studying them, as I had never seen so many types; at the same time, I tried to avoid losing Green.
A small and slender figure bumped into me. The two of us almost tumbled down, and he grabbed my belt to keep his footing, coming very close for a scant few seconds.
“I’m sorry,” the player mumbled, in no hurry to let go. “I didn’t want to...”
Kesson successfully used Steal against you!
You lost Big Atlas of AlexOrder!
Combat log exploded in alarm, and the shorty bounced away from me like a scalded cat, his yellow nickname turning red as he ran. By committing an unlawful act, he got flagged, and now I, the guards, and any other players had a right to attack him. Hiding his criminal status under a quickly donned hood, he rushed through the crowd, maneuvering between the hurrying NPCs with a stunning skill. In two seconds, he was gone.
I stopped in confusion. I had just been robbed. What was I supposed to do, shout “Thief!”?
“Cripes,” Green commented. “Were you robbed? Did he steal something valuable? Why were you standing frozen while he rummaged through your backpack? It’s a ten-seconds action, you should have interrupted him! Shame...”
I really regretted losing Alex’s atlas. It was a gift from an old friend given to me on my first day in the game and a really useful tool for navigating Eyre. I had heard about pickpocketing before, of course. In theory, any player could rob another by using Steal skill, but the chance of opening inventory and pulling an item heavily depended on the skill points invested into it. By the looks of it, that guy had almost perfect stats — that’s how smooth he had been.
A guard patrol headed toward us, making their way through the crowd. Upon their coming, I was wide-eyed: the guards were freshly polished metallic golems who rode mantis-grasshopper hybrids! The constructs had blue fire burning in their eye-slits and intricate runs on their bulging chests and wore first-rate gear: fullmetal shields and artifact weapons that emanated magic. As for armor...well, they were walking armor themselves!
Instead of nicknames, they had a complicated mix of numbers and letters. I had never seen anything like that before.
An even weirder entity hovered between two guards: a metallic cub with a huge eye in the center of its body. It kept closing and opening its eyelid, as if taking photos — or blinking. Four lithe metallic cables — its limbs — wreathed around the cube, their movements erratic. They had sharp three-digit holders.
“A dromont. It’s an advanced patrol,” Green whispered to me. “Be polite, they’re neutral to us.”
“A crime has been detected.” I heard a strange voice coming from inside the cub. It was as if an alarm clock was talking to us, its voice rattling, squeaky, with metallic notes. “Three-Five-Seven An has arrived to investigate. Where is the perpetrator?”
“Officer, the perpetrator has fled,” Green said.
“The perpetrator is Player Kesson. He is on the wanted list and has thirty-seven bounties,” the cube continued broadcasting. “Do you wish to put a bounty?”
“No, officer, we’re in a hurry,” Green quickened his speech, aggressively winking at me. “In a great hurry.”
“As a victim, Player HotCat receives a license for attacking Player Kesson.” It...he....Three-Five-Seven produced a parchment with colored seals and handed it to me.
“You may use it, sell it, or give it away. It is valid for a month. Please sign.”
After giving me the license, the guard lost interest, turned around, and left. I noticed translucent folded wings on the backs of the mantis-hoppers used by the Forged as mounts. So on top of everything, they could fly. Wow.
“What should I do with the license?” I asked Green.
“Use it to wipe your ass for all I care,” he smirked. “Or you can try selling it, there’s a chance someone will buy it. You’ve heard it yourself, there’s lots of bounties for this thief.”
“What were those robots?”
“The golems? They’re mercenaries from the Forgeworlds, policing the Bazaar under a contract. They’re pretty tough, I advise you to avoid them. The commanders are dromonts. They...it’s a long story, you’ll learn it yourself. They made the Bazaar a bit safer. It was a horror before them.”
“Could you warn me about other dangers now?” I asked.
“Other dangers... Lots of the
m here, Cat.” The Watcher scratched his head. “Don’t go here in expensive gear, epic or legendary, unless it’s bound. See those guys?”
He casually gestured towards a group of players uniformly wrapped in cloaks of disguise. They were sitting on birdies on the roof of a building close by, pretending to be bored. A flying boat slowly drifted toward them, losing height. It had a silvery blue banner and was manned by metallic golem guards. Languidly, like a murder of crows, the players abandoned their positions and split up, gliding above the alleyways and retreating every which way. The flying skiff raised its sails, but catching up to a birdie at a short distance was impossible. So what was that? Had the guards decided to check the papers of shady persons with hidden nicknames?
“In short, when they see anyone in expensive stuff, they kill them. There’s lots of such guys here. Some lie in wait for players they know have something good on them. So my advice, don’t show your cards, it’s dangerous.”
“The guards will immediately kill them.”
“Oh no, they have everything arranged. They have spotters who find marks, they have assassins, and they have dedicated looters. They rummage through your pockets just after you die, in the blink of an eye. As for the guards...yeah, they’ll kill someone, decrease the reputation, add to the wanted list, so what? Their stuff is cheap, but their marks have deep pockets. One lucky find will make up for all expenses.”
“Basically, they are PK scavengers.”
“Right. Oh, and be careful with chats and offers to buy something via NPCs. Nine times out of ten, it’s a scam, even if some offers are really good. Don’t get mixed with all of that until you learn the ropes. Let’s go.”
The first floor of the tower was full of elevators. A fine-tuned mechanism carried people and NPCs scurrying around up and down via special chutes. It reminded me of the bustling New Tokyo subways during rush hour, with everyone busily running about their business. The entrance was watched by the Forged, who were led by dromonts. No PKers could get inside: the guards carefully examined all guests. One of the levitating mechanoids checked everyone with a weird ray of light emanating from its eye.
“Auction. Bank. Storehouses,” said Green, pointing at them. “Here, on the fifth floor, you can rest and get a meal. And here... See the plaque? These are the offices of transporter alliances. Unless you’re making a VIP order via contracts, go here.”
We went up to the sixth floor; floors three to ten, according to the plaque, contained public auction halls, and above them were storehouses, VIP meeting rooms, apartments, ship maintenance docks, and so on.
The auction hall was plain, even if huge. NPC auctioneer stands framed the room, and slateboards provided access to the market interface. There was only one problem: the hall was fully populated, with customers clinging to all the boards. As soon as a spot freed up, it was immediately taken.
We moved up, but the seventh floor was no less crowded, just as floors eight and nine were. I couldn’t believe my eyes — were all the Bazaar towers chock-full of people? Holy shit! It was one thing to read about thirty thousand players constantly immersed in trade, seventeen million lots, and two trillion gold of monthly turnover, but seeing was something else entirely. It was truly impressive. Finally, on the tenth floor, we discovered free auctioneer windows.
“Is it always so crowded here?” I couldn’t bear it any longer.
“What did you expect? It’s the Bazaar.” Green narrowed his eyes. “It’s the merchant heart of Sphere. Buy a Diamond account, they get VIP apartments with all auction features on the top floors.”
Is that so? I decided to keep mum on me already having that status — no need to make people jealous. Under Green’s guidance, I bought everything on the list given by Damian and put on sale the clan property kept in the auction storehouses, as its selling time had already expired. Apparently, Green had been slacking for some time. It had been more than a month since his last visit to the Bazaar.
“Always check the weight and value of the cargo,” he instructed me. “If it’s more than a million, the Snails won’t accept a contract, so you’ll have to split it, so it will be more expensive. Oh, and if the combined weight is more than a hundred ton, a bark or a galleon won’t be able to move it. Find an astral nave, it’s going to be much cheaper, anyway.”
“Well, your Trade skill seems high enough. I think you’ll make it,” Green summed up after buying and selling everything we had wanted to and securing a contract for delivery of a three-ton cargo to Eyre via Escargot & Co. In three days, a bark would get our goods to the stated destination. As I had suspected, it wasn’t especially complicated: the most important things were attention to detail and a knack for trade.
“All right, so I got you up to speed, just as I promised. You can take it from here,” Green said. His hand lingered on my arm. “One more thing, Cat. Do you know what’s the most important thing for a trader?”
“Knowledge,” I said simply. I hated dramatic rhetorical questions.
“Knowing the market is important, but it’s not the main thing. Thing is, you can make millions and then lose everything and become a beggar stuck in the debt pit. Huge profits and a bankruptcy risk go hand-in-hand. Everything depends on you, on how much you want to earn and how much you are willing to risk for it. Do you get it, Cat? The most important thing for a trader is himself.”
I nodded thoughtfully. I was largely in agreement with him. Green was a pretty savvy guy, but he was one of the people preferring a small stable income to putting everything at stake.
“Here, I got you a present,” he pulled off a ring from his left hand. It was blue quality, which meant rare. “It has never failed me. Keep it safe. When I return to Sphere, I’ll take it back!”
And he disappeared, using a Soul Stone to get back to wherever he was bound to, leaving me alone inside a Bazaar auction hall, packed to the brim with people. I twiddled with the gift of my predecessor.
You obtained an item:
Ring of Keen Sight.
Quality: rare.
Material: silver.
Durability: 10/16.
Weight: N/A.
1 slot: Gems inlaid: 1/1.
Intellect: +2, Luck: +2. Gems inlaid: Star Alexandrite.
Identification: 70% chance to identify hidden properties of an item up to Epic quality. 1 attempt/12 hours.
Well, that should come in handy. With the clan tasks over, I could finally deal with my own. Thirty vials of Tincture of Fire and its recipe had been waiting in the wings in my inventory and at last, it seemed, their time had come.
The problem was, the bustling of the public auction hall made concentrating all but impossible. Local hubs like Eyre or Fairs, where I had traded before, had lots of people, too, but their auctions could accommodate them, and more. Here, the rush was comparable to Wall Street, or the New Tokyo exchange. So, what was that Green said about the perks of Diamond accounts?
I addressed one of the NPCs, an auction agent.
“Excuse me, sir. Are there any quieter places around here?”
“Quieter? Do you mean VIP halls? Of course. Floors thirteens and fourteen.”
As it turned out, everything wasn’t as easy as I had thought. Renting a VIP place inside an auction house to get some peace and quiet was pretty high: a thousand gold a day, which wasn’t much cheaper than a real-life hotel. They got a lot of nerve charging that money! I was ready to turn around and leave, if not for a nice surprise.
“Pardon me, Sir...HotCat?” the receptionist on the thirteenth floor said after checking an unseen list. “I gave you incorrect information...or, rather, didn’t check your status. Please accept my apologies.”
My status? Ah, so my Diamond account did work! Apparently, the Diamonds always got the best rooms for free. It made sense. A nice perk.
“For players of your status, we always have several VIP apartments booked. All amenities are included. After me, please.”
Well, that was not bad at all. A spacious two-room apartment
with a bedroom and a living room that doubled as a study, a wall-sized picture window, and a great view of the sunset, with the yellow-red moon descending over the horizon and a swarm of astral ships slowly soaring above the Bazaar. It also boasted direct access to the market interface, an auction agent menu, the warehouse, a button for summoning a courier, and finally, a dusted bottle of wine and a long-stemmed glass on the coffee table next to the couch.
I plopped down on the couch, uncorked the bottle, and poured myself a generous helping of wine. Then I opened all the menus I wanted, connected to the trade channels, and went to work.
Chapter 8
The Gene of the Ancients (Rogue Merchant Book #2): LitRPG Series Page 12