Chapter 146 - Envy

"Nice office. Clear view of the skyline, glass windows. A fitting environment for you. At least you could string more than three words together now." Sebastian surveyed the office on the top floor of the shopping arcade, each step measured as he walked with the air of nobility, using his cane to tap the furniture around gently.

"It's not booby-trapped." Keith pointed out as he took a seat behind his desk.

"Ah, can never get anything past a scholar. Even if you were never officiated as one, I knew you always had that spark in you. You know, my offer from a year ago still stands. I pay well, and we offer great benefits too."

"No thank you. Now cut to the chase. What are you here for?"

"There's no need to rush. Ares and Damian wouldn't be done anytime soon. We got at least an hour on our hands." Sebastian settled into a plush velvet chair, making himself at home.

"Well I would very much prefer if you leave as quickly as possible."

"Why all this hate, Keith?" Sebastian grinned. "You and I, we're just businessmen, trying to make the most of what meager power we have to make the world a better place."

"You call that embargo making the world a better place?" Keith shot back.

"A body's immune system holds no ill will towards the illnesses that it purges. It merely marks a danger and eradicates it to the best of its ability." Sebastian twirled the handle of the cane around its length in his palm.

"And are we the supposed 'illness'?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Even the most toxic of herbs can be used as medicine if applied properly."

"Enough with the fucking metaphors." Keith slammed the table. "Get to the point or I'll have to ask you to kindly leave."

"Looks like Kyle has had a severe influence on you. Fine. I have a deal for you." Sebastian sat up straight. "In exchange for lifting the embargo, you must pay me a 30% tariff on every good being exported or imported into my districts."

Keith was about to exclaim in pure shock, but he held his tongue as he considered the implications of it. Sebastian let out a wide grin as he watched Keith come to terms with the potential profits. "I knew you would understand." Sebastian nodded with a satisfied face. "Kyle has certainly taught you well."

"The lifting of the embargo will include not suppressing the business owners from trading with us?"

"Of course not."

Keith nodded in contemplation, but he did not accept immediately, his brain racing through all the possible ramifications of such a deal.

"Consider that under the current embargo, you earn nothing. 30% tax is minuscule in comparison to the profits you can make." Sebastian pressed his advantage.

He's right. The population of the Ardent Cretins' ten districts is a sizeable population to monetize. If this was any other gang, Keith might have capitulated and said yes immediately, but this was Sebastian he was dealing with. There was always an ulterior motive with the vice-leader of the Seven Snakes, Keith feeling like he was falling into another trap. "Just what is in it for you?"

"Money. The war is taking its toll, and once it ends, it's whoever has the biggest pockets that will come to rule." Sebastian said bluntly. "This deal is more than a simple tariff. I'm offering a working partnership to be on my side. Surely you don't want to fight us any longer?"

"You're the one who started it."

"And I simply needed time to adapt to the circumstances. It's not every day you get a savant as a rival gang leader." Sebastian smiled. "Now that we're settled in, I believe collaboration is far more profitable than competition."

Something isn't right. He has been at loggerheads with us for a year, and then now he's suddenly changing tact? It's too dangerous. "This deal is far beyond what I can agree to on my own. I'll have to consult Kyle."

"By all means. But this deal won't last forever. Perhaps Kyle might be too far away to have a say. And it is times like this where the others have to step up, like you and Damian. Surely you want to be more autonomous than just listening to every word Kyle says."

"If you're trying to get me to betray Kyle, it's not going to work."

"Ah, if I could only foster such loyalty in all Ardent Cretins. Kyle has certainly done a fine job. Well, if you have trouble deciding, I can give you a piece of information that may help you run your fundraiser more efficiently, and hopefully, you will remember this show of goodwill."

"And why would I believe you when you're the one holding back the nobles from investing."

A flash of confusion crossed Sebastian's face, the first time in the entire conversation, before breaking out into laughter. "HAH! You'll be foolish to think that we even have such influence over the nobility. Ridiculous. You have far more enemies than you know about. I'm doing you a favor by giving you this. Remember that." He rose to his feet and pulled out a sealed letter from his pocket, handing it to Keith.

Keith took it in his hands, flipping the letter over to see that the seal was stamped with a strange emblem that he swore he recognized. This... this is a Versian stamp? Before he could ask another question, a sudden violent tremor shook the very foundations of the shopping arcade, as though a wrecking ball had slammed right into its central pillar. Keith glanced around in surprise, while Sebastian merely began walking to the door.

"Well, it sounds like Ares is done. Shall we head off now?"

Keith couldn't find the words to say, following Sebastian out of the office back down to the foyer where Ares was already waiting for Sebastian. "Good fight?" Sebastian asked Ares.

"Not that good. But decent enough for a warm-up." Ares shrugged as he stretched his arms up high, extending past some of the shorter trees planted in the vicinity.

"Well then." Sebastian turned to give the escorting Keith a slight nod. "We can find our own way back from here. Perhaps you should check up on your brother. Don't forget the favor I've done for you."

Ares fought Damian?! Keith nodded, before leaving hastily back into the training arenas within the shopping arcade. "Adrian, you listening in?"

[Yes, you want me to keep an eye on Sebastian and Ares?]

"Make sure they aren't up to anything funny. I want a full report of where they have been and where they are going by the end of today."

[On it.]

Keith raced towards the source of the sudden tremor, entering the training arena where there were already countless recruits swarming about an impact mark on the wall. A spiderweb of cracks ran along the fortified walls meant to resist any damage that was a result of training. Keith noticed that the boundary strings marking the border of the arena had been snapped cleanly. Already the clamoring recruits were discussing the results of the spar with great vigor, and half of them were clearly concerned by the ending.

"Fucking hell, Ares barely threw a punch. Just what in the world is he using?"

"I never heard of a giant being able to wield arcia. Is he the first giant mage?"

"No fucking way, there must be a trick up his sleeve."

"But if Damian couldn't even get close to him or land a single hit, then what hope do we have?"

"We still got Kyle, we still got Kyle. And worst case, we just shoot the hell out of him."

Keith ignored the blabbering remarks of the recruits around, shoving his way to the front to see a slumped over Damian, leaning against the wall gulping a health potion. "Damian!" Keith shouted, squeezing past the medical team who were checking him for wounds and damage.

Damian smiled weakly at Keith, giving him a thumbs-up. "Lasted more than ten seconds."

"That's not something to be proud of, you're in bad shape!"

"Ah, I'll be fine after a good night's rest." Damian finished the remains of the health potion, tossing the empty flask to one side and shrugging off the medical team crowding around him. He stood up to his full height, looking like he had never suffered a hit in his life as he flexed his shoulders "More importantly, what the hell did Sebastian tell you?"

Seeing Damian in good condition sent a wave of relief through Keith's heart. "A lot, but we need to have that meeting now. Adrian, gather all the vipers and leaders available for an emergency meeting."

The vipers didn't slack around, quickly convening in the meeting room to discuss what had just happened. Niko was still on the radio checking up on security patrols and checkpoints to make sure anything funny didn't happen, while the rest were brooding over the proposal Sebastian had given them.

"I don't buy it. That man always has a card up his sleeve. There's no other reason why he would suddenly play nice with us." Monica crossed her arms, leaning back on the chair. "He must think he can get a use out of us."

"The question is to what end?" Gordon mused. "If we can figure out his end goal and motivation-"

"Hah, figuring out Sebastian, the idiot who tried to sabotage us and embargo us to keep us down? There's no knowing what runs through that fool's head." Niko interjected. "Why do we even care what he gets? We should be focused on what it means for us! Is it a good deal or not?"

"It's good, without a doubt. Access to Sebastian's larger market would supercharge our businesses. And most likely, such a partnership would reopen the floodgates of potential noble investment into our holdings." Reese asserted. "This embargo has basically divided the economy of the South Sector into two halves - and we're certainly not winning."

"At a 30% tariff rate. Both in and out." Monica warned. "I might not be trained in finances, but even I know a hefty fee when I see one. Not even the pirate kings of Proco levy that much from merchants."

"Compared to zero access?" Reese raised an eyebrow. "Right now we make zero income from his market. We should seriously calculate the value of the deal and whether we make money from the 30% tariff rate."

"Damn right." Eric Dicar nodded in agreement with his fellow professor. "Think of just how much more alcohol we could sell to people living in Ardent Cretins' territories."

"Wouldn't Sebastian be upset that his own alcohol businesses are being pushed out if that actually happens?" Monica countered.

"Doesn't matter what he does next, all I know is that once they get a taste of our products, they'll be clamoring for more." Eric Dicar smiled. "Besides, we'll at least make a killing for a brief moment."

"But even if we make money, what are we even losing in the long run?" Gordon was still hung up on his original point. "Just what is Sebastian gunning for?"

"The real question is, what would Kyle do?" Adrian spoke up for the first time.

That put the meeting in an awkward silence, the vipers finally realizing that they were basically on their own for the first time in dealing with a potentially game-changing deal. Each of them tried to contemplate the exact steps Kyle would take.

"I could have been a viper for a thousand years and still not really figure out what Kyle would do. All I can imagine is him saying yes immediately and then somehow getting the upper hand regardless in the long run." Niko shrugged.

"No, Kyle wouldn't say yes right away." Damian asserted. "If I were him, I would see such a deal as playing second fiddle to Sebastian. Kyle would consider this as subjugation. And as far as I  know, Kyle is very much against being under somebody else."

"How so? Aren't we looking to profit off them?" Reese asked. "We're the ones winning here with the expanded market size."

"And so would Sebastian. For almost no effort at all, he would earn a 30% tax income from our business activity with his territory. And as time goes on, our business would become more reliant on the Ardent Cretins." Keith was picking up on Damian's train of thought. "Even if the nobles started to invest in us, they would be looking for growth over time as new shareholders and bondholders. This means Sebastian has power over us, him being able to turn off the tap anytime with another unilateral embargo."

"It doesn't make any financial sense for Sebastian to suddenly levy a follow-up embargo in the future. He would suffer a loss of his tax income, too. The increased business opportunities and growth go both ways. He would be hurting himself as much as we do." Gordon pointed out.

"What about political sense? What if he seeks for us to capitulate?" Keith countered.

"This is all going over my head as per usual, but the gist of it is that we need to find a way to raise funds while not relying on Sebastian." Niko pushed the discussion ahead. "Clearly the deal with Sebastian is too suspicious to consider seriously now. We should be looking for alternatives instead."

"Before we move on, there's one more thing. Sebastian gave me what he called a 'tip'. A letter with a Versian stamp." Keith brandished the letter out of his suit pocket, handing it to Damian, who opened it to read.

"Conflict from a foreign land has your envious enemies vicious." Damian read out the letter, himself unsure of the contents. He flipped over the letter and held it up a bit to the light to see if there were any more letters, but that was the end.

"By all that is Yual and holy, this Sebastian has got to stop with these stupid sayings. Just say it's Harrison!" Niko groaned, slapping his own forehead in annoyance. "First some stupid ship in a bottle, now this. Sometimes men should just say things straight. Are we sure he has the right genitals between his legs?"

“Are you implying something, Niko?” Monica rolled her arm sleeves back.

“No… just a figure of speech.”

“Something you should keep to yourself.”

"Hey, focus! Does this imply that the one restricting our fundraising is Harrsion? How could he still have ties or even influence over the actions of the nobles here in Raktor? We're at war!" Reese scratched his greying hair in confusion.

"It doesn't matter. We're not here to play a guessing game." Monica waved her hands dismissively. "We should just be aware that its either Sebastian or Harrison that are the ones fucking with us. Maybe our ranks have already been infiltrated with spies once again. Perhaps even among us."

"No. We're not doubting anyone here anymore. I think we're already long past that." Damian shook his head. "But you're right. Niko, you will increase the patrols and keep an eye out for newer, untested recruits. The rest of you should do the same. Keith and I will begin preparations for the fundraiser. We won't give a reply to Sebastian until we know exactly what is happening."

The vipers nodded in agreement, the meeting adjourned as they returned to their separate tasks. Damian and Keith immediately headed to a new extension wing that had been built as an add-on to the shopping arcade, intended to serve as a conference or hosting venue for dignitaries and guests.

"Just when Kyle is away..." Keith muttered under his breath as they paced through the connecting hallways that were still dimly lit. The walls were bereft of any decorations or furniture, the construction only having furnished it with the barest of minimum.

"We can't expect Kyle to do everything. He appointed me and you as the underboss and accountant for a reason." Damian pointed out. "The two of us running a gang numbering in the thousands, can you imagine that? You remember when we used to have twenty?"

"Stop reminding me of that, I was living under a rock then." Keith scowled. "A stupid kid who still wanted to go to university."

"Having a different idea? It's been your childhood dream to be a professor."

"After seeing what is possible? Besides, I only wanted it so I could tell the world that I was smart. Now I know that intellect is nothing without wealth, and money is the only real language the world has." Keith declared.

Damian nodded in agreement, himself never having placed much priority on his own education. Still, he couldn't help feeling that his little brother has changed in ways he could never expect. Though I suspect having millions of rakels under your disposal would do that.

The two of them entered the newly constructed extension wing, the furnishing still in the final stages as workers ferried chairs and tables to and fro. Their footsteps echoed through the large, expansive space of the newly added marble tiles with satisfying clicks. It was certainly a far cry from the shabby Seven Snakes bases the brothers had started out in, Damian getting a sense of whiplash from just how far he had come. Tableware and dining cutlery were laid out on top of circular buffet tables, while placeholder trays mimicking food placements adorned the multiple counters.

Keith inspected the layout and the quality of the setup, while Damian checked to make sure that any security guard would be able to have a clear view of the scene. However, both of them felt something was clearly off, convening again to discuss what was wrong. "I can't put my finger on it. Something is off. There isn't much of a nobility feel. It doesn't feel the same as the Magda or even Baron Cain's mansion." Keith tapped his chin, glancing at the glittering chandelier that he had purchased.

"Should we still go with renting the ballroom in the Central Sector?" Damian asked.

"I'll die first before I pay their asking fee of 10 million rakels, and I'm sure as hell I'm not going to give any money over to that condescending bitch. You know how many books I could buy with that?"

"Two?"

"Shut up."

Damian surveyed the area, this time looking at the construction. Due to Keith's clear dislike for any venue in the Central Sector, the Golden Snakes had been tasked with building up the new extension wing. Unfortunately, their expertise was with building factories and apartment complexes, not grand banquet halls or intricately designed ballrooms meant to amaze. This resulted in the construction being very much uninspiring, with only a few arches high above without much decorations nor furnishings save for the chandeliers and arctech lamps. Most of the lighting looked like they were superimposed from regular factory lines, while the walls were devoid of any attraction.

"We're missing lots of paintings." Damian finally concluded. "Like, a lot. And we need gold."

"So we're simply lacking a lot of luxury items that we should show off. You're right. We need landscape paintings and an exhibition of sorts at the same time of the fundraiser." Keith nodded in agreement. "Something to show off that we're more than comfortable, enough to start a prestigious collection."

"That's going to be hard. We barely have a collection of anything, save for former gang armbands and emblems. Maybe we can display a few ill-gotten gains? Or we can have Eric brew up a medley of unique alcohol to serve."

"This isn't the time for jokes. We are not going to display or offer anything that is Sanctum-prohibited. This is an event with hundreds of potential investors."

"Right... so what's the plan?"

"You tell me, you're the underboss. I'm at my wits end here." Keith gripped his own hand out of anger. "It's like the problems never stop coming, and there's no obvious path to solve it. When Kyle was here, everything looked like it fit into place, even when there were times I didn't agree with him. Just exactly how did he do it...?"

"Now that you mention it, it's been a while since his last communication with us. Almost four months now." Damian muttered. "Do you think-"

"No fucking way he's dead. Most likely he's stomping Harrison to pieces in Versia. My main gripe is that until now, he has yet to send us any earnings from the war. Wasn't he supposed to smuggle something back?"

"Still, we can't rely on his help." Damian snapped his fingers in a moment of eureka. "We need to get Baron Cain onboard. If we can get him to be the main face of the fundraiser, it would add much more credibility."

"I already tried, we don't have enough money to buy his help-"

"Sir!" An out-of-breath messenger ran towards them. "We received a message!"

"A message? From who?" Keith asked.

"No idea, but I was given this." The messenger handed them a letter, this time the stamp seemingly being issued by an unexpected noble. Keith was taken aback by the emblem, recognizing it clearly. Count of Proco? What does he want with us? I don’t even recall what he looks like!

"Understood, thank you. I'll take it from here." Keith nodded at the messenger, dismissing him while he opened the letter with Damian, reading quickly.

They didn't exchange a single word, their eyes only lighting up with joy as they read each line. "This.... this is it! The fundraiser can be saved! We'll be able to get Baron Cain's help now!" Keith nearly jumped in place from sheer relief.

"Damned Kyle still helping us even from afar." Damian grinned from ear to ear. The moment they reached the end of the letter, Damian didn't hesitate to turn on the arctech radio, barking orders in. "Niko, Monica. Drop whatever drinking plans you have tonight. We got a job to do."

***

That night...

At an old quiet rustic alley in the Central Sector, a lone wagon sat still, its arctech engine giving off a low hum while its shaft turned smoothly. A single flash of arcia flame could be seen for a brief moment in the driver's cabin, trails of Euria smoke wafting out through the gaps in the windows.

"You know, it's been a while since it has just been you and me." Niko puffed on an Euria pipe, relaxing in the passenger seat. "Still remember that time you beat me up well in the Culdao Peaks. Good times, huh? Say, Monica, you got a boyfriend?"

"I'm not interested in chit-chat. Focus."

"Is it Adrian? Or Eric? I'm not sure what kind of history you got going on there, but it's kind of weird. Are you doing some sort of polygamy thing?"

"Will you shut the fuck up for once?"

"What's wrong? I'm just trying to have a talk with a fellow viper. You're the only female viper here now, you know?"

"You got a problem with that?"

"Nope, just carrying the conversation."

"There is no conversation."

"And looks like I succeeded."

Monica rolled her eyes, her grip on the driver's wheel tightening before she finally slammed it. "Fine. You want a conversation? How about the fact that you can't even do a simple job without shutting your goddamn flyhole instead of letting your lips flap non-stop?"

"Hey, it's boring here. We've been sitting here for three hours in dead silence!" Niko complained.

"I don't know, go stare at someone else or something. Maybe you'll find a pretty Central girl who can stand your nonsense."

Niko held an offended expression as he motioned violently to the clearly empty streets, it being the middle of the night. "There's not even a single fair lady here to look at! The only people I've seen so far are old hunchbacks that should have been in a grave maybe thirty years ago. None of these geriatric fucks living here can even take a step without the help of their servants! I'm surprised the servants don't just slit their throats and steal all the money."

"And if you keep distracting me, I'll make sure you're in a grave too. Don't try me." Monica warned.

"Fine. But at least tell me why we're even here three hours earlier?"

"Idiot, I already told you twice. It's a stakeout. Part and parcel of every pickup. You wanna watch for any movements and get a lay of the area before meeting. How the hell did you even become a viper?"

"What movements?! Watching a granny creak up the stairs with an arctech walking aid?" Niko whispered angrily.

Monica didn't bother replying anymore, simply continuing to eye the area for a little while. Soon, however, she began to hear a low rumbling sound coming from outside the wagon. Niko stuck his head out to peer behind, spotting a growing illumination from the end of the alleyway. "Enforcer patrol." Niko muttered.

Monica nodded, kicking the wagon into gear and slowly moving off, restraining their speed to make sure they didn’t produce too much of a sound as they hid out of view behind a pile of trash. The beams from the patrol's arctech lantern flashed around the alleyway, missing the wagon entirely while Monica and Niko waited patiently.

Five minutes passed in silence until the patrol was finely out of earshot, the two of them relaxing. "Looks like you can shut up if you really want to," Monica smirked. To her surprise, Niko didn't reply with a snarky comeback, instead tapping her on the arm violently. "Hey, don't even think about trying to hit on me-"

"No, look! Is that a kid?" Niko pointed ahead to a barely visible shadow fifty meters ahead of the wagon. Monica squinted her eyes, trying to make it out but could only see its outline.

"Ah, looks like a regular slum kid. Nothing to worry about."

"What? Nothing to worry about?" Niko exclaimed in a whisper.

"If I lost my marbles over every single kid I spotted on a stakeout, I would be in an asylum by now."

"Monica, think! Why in Yual's name would there be a slum kid in the Central Sector of all places! The Central Sector has no slums! The nobles would throw a fit if there were any on their side of the river!"

Monica's eyes widened in realization, reaching for her Aspis MK2 repeater stowed next to the driver's seat. "How long more?"

"Thirty minutes till pickup." Niko asserted after checking an arcia pocket watch.

"Okay. Let's wait a bit longer until-"

Suddenly a louder roar of two wagons drove past the exit of the alleyway, Monica and Niko exchanging a confused glance. "That can't be our pickup, right? They are way too early."

"You're right. Dealers don't mess up timings, and they certainly don't linger around longer than they need to with the merchandise. We need to go, now."

The two of them got out of the wagon as silently as they could, careful not to wake up any of the inhabitants nearby. Monica slung the repeater behind her back as she walked up to a nearby escape ladder, clambering up to the roof of the building. Niko followed suit, the two vipers tiptoeing across the dusty concrete roof and avoiding dilapidated waste eroded by wind and rain. They cautiously moved from one connecting roof to another, trailing the cloaked kid who was moving through the open street in plain view toward the pickup point.

"If it's the enemies Sebastian's letter warned about, they aren't doing a very good job," Niko muttered as he kept low to the roof, preventing his figure from being spotted easily. Soon, they made it onto the roof of an office building where the pickup was arranged. Monica moved over to the stairway access door, trying the handle and realizing it was tightly shut with a padlock. Without hesitation, she gave the padlock a stern hit, the engraving on her knuckles glistening for a brief moment before she immediately encased the padlock in her palms.

The padlock jittered a little, before a secondary impact from within shattered the padlock apart. Monica's hands prevented the padlock's fragments from causing a ruckus, Monica carefully setting them aside down on the ground.

"Cool party trick." Niko quipped. "How come I never got anything that cool?"

"Maybe 'cause Kyle thinks you're trash. Also, heads up. If the kid does anything wrong, I'll shoot to kill."

"Didn't take you for a slum killer."

"I do what I have to. Besides, like you said. No slums in Central. Where's the kid?"

Niko peeped over the edge of the roof. "Uh, still here. But he's not alone now."

"What? How many?"

"About six kids, it seems."

"That's not good. We need to go, now!"

Niko nodded, following Monica into the office building proper. It was a four-story building, segregated into their individual rooms. They moved quickly with urgency despite being more than twenty minutes earlier than the meeting point, racing down to the basement where the pickup point was.

Just as they were about to exit the stairwell, pellet shots and battle shouts could already be heard. The two vipers readied their weapons, pushing out past the door only to see a gunfight breaking out between the cloaked kids and the dealers, with one of the wagons already leaving the basement. Ricochets bounced off the walls, impacting against the stacked boxes that lined the rows of metal shelves surrounding a central space where the battle still raged over the last two wagons.

"Shit!" Niko jumped into action, brandishing two custom handguns and immediately targeting the cloaked kids. Whatever hesitation he had for killing them was long gone when he saw one of them crouched behind a pile of collapsed boxes, wielding an Aspis MK2 repeater. How did they get the guns?

The dealers were clearly pinned down, cowering behind their own wagons while the cloaked kids expertly moved from cover to cover, as if they had been trained as such. Niko found the movements to be uncannily familiar but he didn't let that distract him. "We need to save the dealers!" Niko urged.

Monica nodded, rushing out with her own repeater and firing straight at the nearest kid, who somehow managed to duck behind cover. The suppressing fire alerted the kids to the presence of the two new vipers. Instead of the kids turning to fight the vipers, they hurriedly shifted over to another empty wagon, boarding it with haste. "Don't let them escape!" Monica roared.

Niko sprinted as hard as he could, ducking and weaving through the lines of fire, trying to get a clear sight of the wagon's driver. He aimed his pistols at the driver's cabin, firing into the glass and shattering in. However, he didn't see any blood, the wagon still turning on and beginning to lurch forward toward him. As the wagon threatened to slam right into him, Niko leapt up onto the bonnet with a flip, finally seeing clearly just who the kids were. "Goblins?!"

"The human spotted us!" The goblin driver exclaimed, pulling out his own repeater. Before he could aim it at Niko, two fast pellets from Niko's pistols bore bloody tunnels into his eyeballs, ripping through his head in a stunning splatter. The driver's body slumped back, the wagon accelerating faster and forcing Niko to jump off the bonnet while the wagon crashed spectacularly into the basement wall with a loud bang.

Niko tumbled and rolled onto the ground, his back hurt by the rough impact onto the coarse concrete. He recovered into a shooting posture, taking aim at the back of the wagon where the remaining goblins staggered out in a daze. As soon as they appeared, Niko shot pellets into their limbs, maiming them and preventing them from moving any longer. However, he only spotted two goblins. "We're still missing three more!" He called out to Monica, who was already walking over to the dealers.

"You fucking snakes!" A disgruntled dealer swept his messy hair back, clearly unhappy about the scuffle. "First you shift the meeting at the very last hour, and then we get ambushed by goblins? I should have never taken this contract."

"What do you mean shift the meeting? Nobody said anything about a change in meeting time." That was the one thing that Monica was confused about. Only the Seven Snakes or the dealer could have shifted the timing, but yet the goblins were able to.

"I have it right here. I got this letter two hours ago!" The dealer waved a crude letter. "Signed right here by the Seven Snakes!"

Monica stormed over, snatching the letter out of the dealer's hand and checking. Sure enough, the letter was stamped with the emblem of the Seven Snakes, something only the vipers and a few of the other higher-ups would have access to. Still, there was no point trying to guess - Niko had already taken down two goblins who could be questioned.

"You better have compensation ready for this trouble!" The dealer warned. "Else you can forget about this stupid transport deal!"

"We will. But first, I want to see the goods."

"Oh no. Money first." The dealer and his men brandished their weapons. "We're not going to be played by fools again, I had enough trouble tonight."

"Alright." Monica didn't try to cause more tension, slowly taking out a pouch of rakels from her pocket and tossing it over to the dealer. The dealer caught it with a wary expression, handing it to his men to check. A few moments passed before his men nodded back to him in approval.

"Good. Take the whole wagon. We're leaving, don't want the enforcers tracing us through all this ruckus."

Monica nodded, watching the dealer and his men leave the basement with caution. Once they were clear, she quickly checked the back of the wagon, where there were stacked crates, all seemingly packed from Desham. She pried open one of them, her jaw dropping at the sheer glow of the jewelry and precious metals inside. "Niko, you got to see this!"

"Not yet." Niko was far more concerned with interrogating the goblins. "Who tipped you off about the pickup? Which viper?!" He pressed his pistol against the head of a goblin while he knelt on their arm, pinning their movements down.

The goblin merely grinned despite bleeding copiously onto the basement floor. "Glor...."

"Glor...? Gordon? I knew that no name punk always had it out for us-"

"Glory to the true king!" The goblin spat a bloodied glob, before a strange light began to emit from his stomach, the green skin glowing red-hot from heat until it almost scalded Niko.

Niko barely rolled out of the way as the goblin's body exploded into a bloody rain, pieces of flesh scattering everywhere. The other maimed goblin's body also exploded in an apparent suicide, shocking Niko into a daze as his face was splattered with goblin blood.

"What the hell was that?" Monica jogged over, seeing the carnage.

"Not a single fucking clue, but I’m pretty sure we won’t be getting any more answers out of him," Niko grunted as he stood back up, trying to wipe off the blood. "Did we get the goods?"

"Yep. Don't think the goblins managed to get any of it."

"Right." Niko walked over to check the crates, equally amazed at the sheer wealth inside. "Well I'll be dammed. It looks like we won't have a problem with the fundraiser after all. Fuck me, do we even need to raise funds? We could buy over an entire block of buildings with this!"

"That's the least of our problems now. We got armed goblins running free in Raktor, and they managed to forge a Seven Snakes emblem stamp. Worst of all, they knew about the pickup." Monica slammed the crate’s lid shut.. "We might very well have a goblin insurgency on our hands."