The Gene of the Ancients (Rogue Merchant Book #2): LitRPG Series

by Roman Prokofiev

  “So Brethren and Varangians are fighting, Watchers cannot interfere, and Heroes and Enemy don’t want to get involved. Am I right?” Crow snickered. “It’s ridiculous, gentlemen. Two clans are nothing against ten thousand orcs plus PROJECT.”

  “Bring aboard the farmers. They want to fight, too,” the leader of Enemy smirked.

  “We did try to use the farmers in PvP raids. Do you remember the result?” Komtur said sharply. The alliance leaders exchanged glances, and a shadow appeared on some of their faces.

  “That’s what I’m talking about,” Komtur chuckled, satisfied. “But I have an idea that will satisfy everyone. Now that we’re all finally gathered in one place, we can discuss it.”

  “What are you talking about, Komtur?”

  Olaf and the leader of Watchers looked at each other, and the analyst opened the door to let one more player into the hall.

  * * *

  I was having a bad day. As soon as I came down into the tavern, Kirana put a clay bowl of stew and a foaming mug of beer in front of me and a slender figure in a cloak of disguise sat down opposite me. I was starting to hate those robes, even if I wore one of them myself. Only people who had something to hide — namely, their nickname and status — used those.

  I recognized the features in the shadow of the hood. A triangular chin, pink lips twisted in a smirk, piercing green eyes... That was Roahildorn, the associate of Jerkhan from Steel Guard. Pandorum. I didn’t expect anything good from them.

  Under the table, I reached for the hilt of Aelmaris and slowly, inch by inch, started to pull it out of its sheath. That was bad. They had found Karn’s inn, my home in Eyre. I didn’t want to move. I liked the people there.

  “Don’t twitch, Kitten!” she snorted derisively. “I just came to talk.”

  I looked over the room. It was empty, except for two local NPCs, Kirana, who was bringing them their order, and the innkeeper behind bar. And yes, Roa hadn’t come alone. Next to the entrance, one more cloaked figure was sitting with his back turned toward me. It was a burly man, going by the build. Maybe an ogre.

  As she noticed my tense stare, the girl gave a slight nod.

  “I’m here on behalf of the Pandas, Cat. Not just the Steel Guard, but the entire alliance. We want to make you a proposal.”

  “Thanks, but I’m already married,” I smirked in turn. “But hey, you’re real risk-takers. What do you think, should I beat you down myself or together with the guards?”

  Roa laughed.

  “Beat me down? You’re funny. Maybe you’ll hear me out first? We’ll always have time to duke it out later.”

  “Talk.”

  “I’ll be brief. You have an Eater. We need souls. Pandorum wants to work with you. We’re even prepared to have you join one of our clans. Abandon those local losers and come to us. Although it’s not mandatory. We can just buy souls from you.”

  “A million for a hundred?”

  “The terms are negotiable. What do you say?”

  I had already considered that option. I suspected that sooner or later, the Pandas would offer me something like that. It seemed like easy money. However, for starters, eating souls dealt a heavy blow to my reputation with all NPC factions. After just a hundred, I lost five percent, and what would happen next? If I walked down that slippery slope, I would become a pariah, hated by all Sphere NPCs without exception. How would I keep doing what I loved — trade — in that case? Nope, no go. Second, I had received repeated warnings that the “procedural generator” could respond to soul eating in a very painful way. The Pandas had their own soul eaters; why weren’t they using them? The answer was clear: that was too dangerous and ripe with serious repercussions. That’s why they preferred to make a cat’s paw of other people, no pun intended.

  “My answer is no. No souls.”

  “Why?” Roahildorn asked in a sing-songy voice. “It’s such a good offer...”

  “You know very well why.”

  “Refusing us is dangerous, Cat,” she said softly, but with an obvious threat in her voice. “Very dangerous. We know who you are, where you live, who your friends are. Think about it. Remember, we care nothing about the rules and conventions of the game.”

  “Neither do I,” I said as I leaned over the table and removed her hood. I was quite tired of that charade and her stupid threats. A red status flashed above the mercenary girl’s head, informing everybody that Roahildorn was a player killer and a wanted criminal. Kirana gasped and dropped the tray. Glasses rolled across the floor of the tavern. Karn cursed behind the bar, reaching for a weapon.

  “We tried to play nice, but I see you prefer the hard way,” Roa hissed. “Dargesh! We’re leaving!”

  The huge ogre jumped up, almost touching the ceiling with his head, and bared the fangs on his muzzle. With his size, he was blocking almost the entire passage. A black round shield with a jagged edge appeared in his left hand, while his right held a heavy, one-edged axe.

  “Wait, you’ve forgot something,” I said. “You owe me.”

  “We? Owe you?” Roa snorted.

  “Exactly. A kill!”

  With these words, I leaped up, trying to turn the table upside down and block her escape, and simultaneously lunged with my sword right at the green eyes glowing with anger. I heard dishes shattering, furniture creaking, and Aelmaris the Blue lit up only to hit the air, as the girl dodged in an incredible back flip, as if breaking in two.

  “Karn, call the guards! Guards!”

  Dargesh was already there. Like a bulldozer, he swept several tables and benches from his path, scooping them up in a giant pile that he planned to bury me under. His Strength value was astonishing. In several seconds, Dargesh crushed most of the sturdy furniture in the inn. I was fast enough to run up the mountain of tables, chairs, and benches and in a truly catlike somersault, move aside, blocking the Steel Guard from the exit.

  “Don’t aggro, Dargesh! Fall back!”

  Dammit. They were smart. They didn’t attack me, knowing that in ten seconds, that would trigger the appearance of NPC guards who would slice them into little pieces. Truth be told, that’s what I had counted on when I started the fight. As it was, lack of aggression, even despite the red nicknames, meant that the guards would take their time getting there.

  I aimed the tip of my flaming sword at the retreating couple. Fiery Lightning! A stream of blue flame sprang at the target, but they seemed to have been waiting for it, as they immediately dodged with the true fire only burning a huge hole in the wall. The second lightning was reflected by the ogre’s black shield. Suddenly, he propped it against the floor and stopped, Roa hiding behind his back. A strange dome enveloped them, and I saw my reflection in its mirrored surface. A moment later, it faded away, the shapes of Roa and Dargesh growing dim. I had already seen that animation. They were escaping with the help of Soul Stones, and I had less than ten seconds left to interrupt the casting.

  One more Fiery Lightning came from the sword, hitting the ogre head-on. Before I could understand anything, a flash in front of me slammed me back across the entire room, smashing me into the opposite wall. I crumpled to the floor, wincing with pain, and the sword in my hand twinkled, shrouded in an acrid cloud of powder fumes. The Pandas, still unharmed, finally faded away, having fled via Soul Stones. What in the damnation had just happened? Why didn’t the Fiery Lightning work?

  Frowning, I got up and opened the combat log. A red line immediately drew my attention.

  “Fiery Lightning” was reflected by “Mirror!”

  “Mirror.” So that was that dome animation. Apparently, that was a scroll or an ability of the ogre’s equipment — a spell reflecting magical attacks. I had heard about it. It wasn’t especially popular: the maximum chance of reflection was around 60-65%, and that’s for the most powerful water mages. It wasn’t nearly enough. So they were simply lucky to have Mirror reflect my Fiery Lightning, and I was lucky that the retaliation was aimed not at me, but at the sword that I had reflexively held in fron
t of myself. Otherwise, I would have been blinded by my own skill...what a shame. Kirana’s voice drew me out of my stupor.

  “So you’re a wild sort, Sir Cat!” the innkeeper’s daughter spoke up with a hint of admiration as she surveyed the destroyed room. “I hope you’ll pay for the damages?”

  The first floor of Karn’s tavern was completely demolished. The furniture was broken and sprawled around, pieces of kitchenware crunched underfoot, and curious onlookers were already peeking into the smoldering hole created by the Fiery Lightning.

  “Me? But I haven’t broken anything!” I objected.

  “But it was you who started the fight,” Kirana retorted reasonably. “And then, the ruffians are gone, and you’re here. That means you’re the one to pay.”

  That was some airtight logic. Looking at my long face, the girl laughed, dived into the pocket of her apron, and pulled out a small sealed envelope.

  “Oh, I’ve almost forgotten. There’s a letter for you here.”

  It was sent by Weldy: I immediately recognized her round childlike handwriting and the painstakingly drawn vignette serving as her signature. The girl from the magic shop was asking me to come as soon as I could.

  Merciless Karn counted down the damages at five hundred and forty gold coins. Grudgingly, I paid it and went outside. The Pandas’ visit left a bad taste in my mouth, and I really needed to feel something nice. Maybe I should go to Weldy, if she was inviting me? Especially since the deadline for her quest had long since been over.

  * * *

  Upon entering the magic shop, I saw a crowd of customers — mostly NPCs and newbies drawn in by word of mouth. When they left, Weldy barraged me with a pile of news. She looked tired, but her eyes shone like two emeralds.

  Quest completed: Business Plan for Weldy.

  You receive 10,000 XP!

  Your reputation with Weldy Nialit increased by 500! Current value: 40/3000 (Revered)

  Everything was fine. The shop’s weekly revenue was more than a thousand gold, buyers came in droves, and shipments of elixirs got delivered to the castle without fail. Moreover, Weldy had managed to get the herbalist from Davna to brew rare potions just for her.

  “Imagine, HotCat, I will be the only one to sell them!” she was telling me, fire in her eyes. “In the entire city!”

  “I’ve no idea how you talked down that old hag,” I couldn’t help but say. The ill temper of the herb-wife from Davna was a well-known fact.

  “Don’t say that, she’s a good woman, in her heart. She just doesn’t have a family,” Weldy replied with a sigh. “But I found a way to connect with her! I have an aunt just like her in Ardat. I know how to approach old maids.”

  She laughed, clear as a bell, revealing cute dimples on her cheeks. Weldy was truly an amazing sight, even if she wasn’t exactly my type — short, not especially thin, and a blonde to boot. Usually, I preferred tall, willowy brunettes, yet somehow, I still liked the girl from the magic shop, whether for her sweet voice, huge green eyes on her adorable face, or those dimples that always showed up when she smiled.

  “You’ll be her exclusive representative in Eyre,” I said.

  “Ex...what? Oh, Sir HotCat, stop scaring a poor girl with such confusing words. I’d rather know if you’re free later.”

  “This evening? Yep.”

  “I want to invite you to dinner. You helped me so much, and everything worked out. Let’s celebrate!”

  “Should I dress for the occasion?” I asked.

  Weldy nodded and couldn’t help but giggle.

  “HotCat...Just don’t wear that feathered beret. You look so funny in it.”

  “All right, I won’t,” I promised, barely holding in laughter as well. “Where shall we go?”

  “Nowhere. Come right here, we’ll eat inside,” the girl said shyly.

  You are offered a quest: Dinner with Weldy.

  Weldy Nialit invited you to her house for a romantic dinner.

  Reward: reputation, (varies).

  Warning: possible 18+ content.

  Chapter 17

  FINDING THE VIDEO of Balabanov’s speech in New Tokyo proved simple. It had been recorded a year ago at the conference hosted as a part of the Virtual Worlds Expo Forum that gathered most leading experts in the field from across the world.

  I noticed that in real life, Balabanov didn’t look like his digital copy, the Magister. That said, some of their features were similar — the grey sideburns of a patrician, the aquiline nose, the piercing gaze. His body language and gestures were the same, too. The real head developer of Sphere had that exact bearing, being somewhat haughty and confident. He exuded charisma, and I could feel it even on the other side of the screen.

  The video had a lot of padding. One moment drew my attention. The leading VR developers were passionately discussing the idea that our world might be a simulation created by a more advanced civilization.

  “In the era of supercomputers, we’re on the edge of describing our entire world with one complex mathematical formula. An example, if I may.”

  Balabanov took several glossy green apples from a vase. He put two of them on the table and looked at the host.

  “How much is one plus one?”

  “Two. But...”

  “And now?” Andrei put one more apple next to the first two. “How many apples are here now?”

  “Three, of course. But how’s that relevant?”

  “Quite obviously. Have you ever considered why exactly does one plus one equal two, and two plus one equal three? It’s an indisputable fact, an axiom. Mathematics is the foundation stone of our world. Our entire universe can be described through numbers. We encounter them everywhere — the Fibonacci sequence, the golden ratio, the string theory, quantum physics, supersymmetry, Takiyami’s equations. I could go on. There are numerous examples.”

  “And what’s your conclusion?”

  “While creating a simulation — our Sphere — we started to realize that we also live inside a simulation, possibly created by a more advanced civilization. They, in turn, might also be a simulation, a simulation inside simulation, ad infinitum. That’s what our universe is. That’s the parallel worlds.”

  “An interesting concept, even if not a novel one. Elon Musk had a similar idea back in the beginning of the twenty-first century,” the host noted.

  “Yes. But he didn’t have the processing power that we have now, or the artificial intelligence created by Takiyami. With the development of computing technologies, we’ve approached the threshold when the virtual worlds built by us feel absolutely real to those inside of them,” the developer continued. “Their complexity and level of detail are comparable to our world. The physical model and simulation of actions are performed at the molecular level. We can, in fact, say that we’ve created a new reality, and the associative AI can populate it with creature that have their own mind and will...”

  “Are you talking about the ‘pseudo person’ method used for creating Sphere NPCs?” the host interrupted the speaker.

  “I don’t like that term. I prefer to call it ‘galvanization,’“ Balabanov replied with a frown. “If I may, I’ll tell you how we created our NPCs.”

  “Of course. All of us would love to hear about your know-how.”

  “There’s none, actually. Everything’s quite simple. We’ve studied the way the human brain works, what makes a person tick. Reflexes, instincts, coordinate morality systems, behavior. We tried to mold them in our image, so to speak.”

  “Sounds like sacrilege, Mister Balabanov. Aren’t you afraid of the divine wrath?” The host smiled.

  “The Vatican has already condemned me for my digital copies. I’m proud to follow in Takiyami’s steps. Without his work on associative AI that is based on the same principles as a human brain — that is, thinking instead of cycling through variants — we would have never achieved anything. May I continue?”

  “Of course.”

  “Just as with everything else in Sphere, we used templates a
nd random generation with a certain set of rules. Eastern astrology and the zodiac helped us create personality types for NPCs. Get it? You don’t? Then let me explain it step-by-step. When a new NPC is generated, it gets a random personality from the list of those astrological calendars, character traits, a general goal. As a result, we get a model of a complete person as close to a real human as possible. They get a separate ‘clean’ self-learning AI with a growth limit depending on the rank of the created NPC. The AI has a pretty narrow repertoire of knowledge — it knows nothing about the outside world, no technical or encyclopedical information; only what the NPC should know based on their background. And then, we launch the simulation.”

  Balabanov gave out a wide smile, demonstrating his magnificent teeth.