The Gene of the Ancients (Rogue Merchant Book #2): LitRPG Series by Roman Prokofiev (top books to read TXT) 📕

on me from above, not making a sound. It was a vile thing — if thrown correctly, it could bind you hand and foot. I gripped the handle of Aelmaris, but the bunch of hooks peppering the net sunk into my skin, hindering my movements. In the next moment, a harness appeared around my shoulders, and I was immobilized. A heavy body slammed into me, kicking me down, and I felt cold steel against my throat.

One, two, three. For some reason, I wasn’t dead yet. Then the unseen enemy huffed, put his blade away — I was able to notice it was a bluish curved scimitar — and scrambled up behind me.

“I had just one kill left to reach the daily plan!” he said somewhere above. “Cripes!”

Somebody gave me a gentle nudge. The effects of the nets and the harness disappeared.

“Stand up, Cat, what are you lying around for?” the same voice continued.

I flipped over and exclaimed in honest surprise, “Thirteenth?!”

“Who else could it be? It’s my domain,” he confirmed loftily. “Jeez, only one kill! So much work for nothing...”

Yes, it was one of the Nonames, the PK clan whose members I had happened upon not that long ago. Back then, we had hit it off well enough. The fact that Thirteenth, a real piece of shit, a kill rating addict, hadn’t killed me right away, spoke volumes. And that was great, because I had an offer for Black Don’s people.

“How did you find me?” I asked, standing up.

“How else? Maura found you,” Thirteenth pointed at a scrawny dark-haired girl huddling behind his back.

“She’s a pawn and my scout,” he explained off-handedly. “Hey, who were you chatting with in the temple? I didn’t hear the conversation, but Maura swears she saw only your signal on the search screen.”

“Talking to myself,” I replied. “Listen, Thirteenth! I have a million terro proposal. I need to talk to Don.”

Thirteenth paused for a second.

“He’s offline,” he informed me. “I wrote to him, he’ll log in soon. Let’s go, I’ll take you to our lair.”

The Nonames had taken refuge in the ruins of a burned outpost. It had been destroyed only recently, going by the scorched soil around it. There were only twelve of them, and their spirits seemed low.

“We’re hard pressed,” Thirteenth explained. “All because Blackie enlisted noobs, half of which skedaddled after the first fail.”

After talking to him, I learned that Wild Field was again in turmoil. A new Attila the Hun had risen. Somebody named Token had combined a few large clans into a battle-ready alliance and started a bloody vendetta against everyone who had refused to submit to his yoke. The Steppe had seen such attempts more than once, and each time, the coalition had broken down eventually, the clans turning on each other, as the cave was too small for several bears. But so far, war was in full swing, and the Nonames, plus a few other clans, had been driven out of their old haunts, only occasionally raiding their former turf.

After meeting Black Don, I laid down my offer, with Arrow and Thirteenth also present. After seeing their reaction, I knew that I struck home. Their eyes lit up with a predatory glow. Thirteenth even sprang up and walked up and down, excited. He was probably already imagining fat kill scores in the rating, robbing rich caravans, and carebears running away in horror...and the glory, the infamy of the top player killer that so many Sphere die-hards were itching for.

“An interesting proposal, HotCat,” Blackie said, speaking through his teeth. “Very interesting. I need to think.”

“What’s there to think about?” Thirteenth exploded. “Blackie, people are leaving the clan in droves, don’t you see it? They’ll either jump ship to Token or kick us out of here. Probably both!”

“Quiet!” the leader of the Nonames shut him down. “That’s not a decision to be taken lightly. It requires some consideration.”

“I have a question,” said Arrow softly, staring me in the eyes. “The places you’ve marked on the map are controlled by Watchers. They’ll be hunting and killing us.”

“They won’t. Or rather, they won’t catch you,” I sneered. “I guarantee it.”

“We don’t have enough people for that, Blackie,” Arrow narrowed his eyes in doubt.

“I could try talking to the Artist,” said Thirteenth. “His guys will totally be up for it.”

“A couple of small clans will be helping you,” I added. “You’ll need to vouch for them.”

“No problem,” Blackie brushed it off. “The main thing I’m worried about is your agenda in all this, Cat. See, I don’t believe that you’re selfless.”

Typical. Why did people always accuse me of being self-serving? Maybe it made their lives easier? Whatever, I wasn’t going to dissuade them. If the Nonames wanted to fork over a percentage of their future spoils, let it be so. Three percent? Five? Might as well ask for five.

Chapter 12

“HEY OLAF, aren’t you supposed to be smart? Could you explain something to me?”

The clan analyst gave me a cold look. I am smart, it said. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to waste my time on some HotCat.

“Fine, but make it quick,” he finally deigned to say.

“We are controlling our region, aren’t we? Then why aren’t we buying out our tenant’s resources in bulk, right on the spot? We could make good money on this.”

Olaf stopped to think.

“There are a few reasons. Which one should I tell you first?”

“The main one.”

“First, the carebears don’t agree to this. After all, it’s not like they’re our servants. They can sell their stuff wherever they want to. Some of them find shipping and caravans and all that stuff fun. If we made such a condition upon leasing them the territory, nobody would have joined us. It’s kinda like slavery, get it?”

“I see. What are the other reasons?”

“Well,