Avarice Online: The Seven Realms Series: A Litrpg Novel

by Matt Ryan

  The ceiling held hooks from which to hang meat. The counters were gleaming white. And the walls had a few different drawings of cuts of meats and various prices. I continued to look at anything but the dead man on the floor. A man whose throat had a large gash in it from me. If I looked at it much longer, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to stop the vomit from nudging the back of my throat.

  KILLian busted back into the shop. “I think I know how to get rid of it,” she said, then gave a quick rundown of the plan.

  I didn’t like it, but her plan was better than nothing. We wrapped up Bob in his own butcher paper, then dragged his body to the back alley, leaving a snail trail of blood as we did. We checked the alley and found it clear of people, then we quickly dragged him to the edge of the manhole in the middle of the alley.

  Our plan was to slide Bob over the edge, but I thought his body might not fit. Maybe his feet would stick up in the air as his waist got caught on the edges.

  “On three,” I said. “One, two, three.” I heaved with Gor and KILLian, and his body went cleanly through the manhole. I couldn’t look at it, but I heard it hit the running water below with a great splash. Gor stood over the hole, looking down.

  “He’s gone,” he said. “Washed away.”

  “This is so bad.” KILLian looked at all the blood on her hands. “You think they’ve got diseases in this world? Last thing I want is some kind of game AIDS.”

  “Game AIDS?” Gor started laughing.

  “We just killed a man. This isn’t funny,” I said, and walked back into the shop.

  Silently, they joined me, and we completed the gruesome task of cleaning up the rest of the blood from the floors, all the way out to the alley. We tossed all the rags into the manhole and closed the back door.

  “We got lucky back there,” I said. “No one came in—no customers, no guards, his wife, or anything. I say we get out of here and never speak of this again.”

  “Except when we turn this quest in and get the permission slip for the island,” KILLian said.

  “Yes, except for that.” I hated that we were getting a reward for what we did.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The city didn’t know I’d committed the murder, but they sure as hell acted as if they did. NPC’s glared at me, grabbing their children out of the way, and clutching their weapons as I approached, as if I were the Spider Queen herself.

  We got to the Shadow clan building and I knocked on the front door. After a minute, I knocked again, just as Denton opened the door.

  “The deed is done,” I said with no pleasure.

  His eyes narrowed. “Who are they?”

  “I shared the quest with them.”

  Denton took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “That was supposed to be a solo quest.”

  “I don’t know, it allowed me to share it.”

  Denton took out a notebook and wrote down something. “Very well, you have completed your quest and I can teach you that new ability.”

  Quest Complete! You killed Bob the Butcher.

  + 75 XP

  +5 Attribute Points

  Unlocked Ability:

  Leap:

  Jump to places that seemed impossible before.

  As much as I was excited to see a new ability listed, there was one more thing I needed from Denton. “Can we get the permission slips?”

  “We?”

  “Yes, Gor and I.”

  “As I said, that was supposed to be a solo quest. Do you really think I’d be giving a Shadow pass to some warrior?”

  “Yes, you are bound to the agreement.” Although not technically true, I had to try.

  Denton’s nostrils flared and he had a hand on one of his shiny daggers. For a second, I thought we might have to fight the man, but then he moved his hand off the hilt. “Fine, but I don’t like this at all. You have pushed me, and I won’t forget this.” He tossed two pieces of paper on the floor and stormed back into the building.

  I handed one of them to Gor.

  “Nice, Mago! Now we can get to this spider boss thingy and kick its ass.” Gor shook the paper in the air.

  I peered at the note and made sure it said we had permission to get on the ferry to Spider Island. It did, and was even signed by Denton.

  We jogged all the way to the dock, ignoring all the hateful looks thrown my way. Running up the wooden dock, we headed for the single boat attached to it. A long ship, with a single mast and wooden sides. As we approached, I slowed down, the blood draining from my face as I saw who was standing at the ramp, talking with the captain.

  Trevor handed the man a piece of paper.

  I ran up behind him with KILLian and Gor.

  Trevor got on the boat and glared at me from the edge.

  “We want to get on this ferry as well,” we said to the captain.

  “Okay, I just need—”

  I thrust my permission slip into his hands and he examined all three of ours. Gor bounced with excitement.

  “Everything looks to be in order. Now I just need the fee,” he said.

  “What fee? I didn’t know about any fee?” I said.

  “It’s a thousand dollars to take a ride on the boat.”

  “A grand?”

  “Each.”

  “Each?”

  “I don’t have time for this repeat game, do you have the money or not?”

  We quickly huddled together and totaled our money. It turned out we didn’t have enough for one ticket, let alone three.

  “We don’t have it,” I admitted to the captain. “Can’t we work something out?”

  “No, especially from some kid like you. Now get out of here before I feed you to the sharks,” the captain said, pulling up the ramp leading into his boat.

  “You’re poor in this game just like you are in real life,” Trevor called out as the boat pulled away from the dock.

  “You’re poor too, asshole,” I yelled out.

  “Not in this game.” He smirked. “Looks like I’m better than you at everything!”

  I growled and clenched my fists. How could I have let Trevor best me at gaming?

  “That guy’s such a dick,” KILLian said.

  “You have no idea.”

  “So, we just make some money,” Gor said. “How hard can that be?”

  KILLian agreed. “Come on, gold farmer, what’s the best way?”

  “Usually, through grinding on creatures that drop items you can create things with, then selling those items on the market. But I haven’t seen that kind of trade here. Have you seen an auction house?”

  “Nope,” Gor said, as KILLian shook her head.

  “Then we do this old school,” I said. “We split up and grind. We pick up quests along the way, and double dip on them where we can. Keep the ones we can share for later.”

  I glanced back at the boat sailing toward the island. It was too far away to make out the individual finger Trevor was holding up, but I got the message.

  “Screw you, pal!” Gor screamed.

  Taking in a calming breath, I got a huge whiff of the ocean. Or at least I thought it was the ocean, it had a salty smell to it. I’d never actually been to a real ocean before. The waves rolled against the rocks, and I could see much of the shoreline running down along the city, until it hit the stone cliffs. And in the distance, a massive mountain overtook much of the landscape. There appeared to be plumes of smoke near that mountain, but maybe it was just clouds.

  Determined, I turned toward the city and began on my own quest. I’d get that thousand dollars, and I’d see Trevor on the other side, real soon. I just hoped he didn’t kill the Spider Queen before I did.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Getting quests proved to be much harder than I ever imagined.

  “Are you sure you’ve got nothing?” I asked the restaurant chef once again.

  “I’d sooner slit your throat than help a person like you.” He spit on my shoe.

  I balled my fist and reached back, but stopped sho
rt. If I had one slip up, I’d be done and I’d never get to that island. Instead, I cracked my neck and nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

  Leaving the kitchen through the back door, I picked up my pace. He’d been the tenth person in a row to reject me. Rethinking my strategy, I left the nicer parts of town and headed toward the seedier parts, where maybe they would be okay with a guy with some evil baggage.

  Screw these rich bastards. I’d find another way.

  The further from the center of the city, the dirtier the buildings got, and the smell changed from that of a fresh, ocean breeze to sewage, and the scent of poverty and sweat. Bits of trash appeared near the curbs and the streets were dirt, with bumps and potholes along its path. It was not unlike the Slabs, and maybe this is where I was supposed to go. Maybe even in-game, I was supposed to be on the outside of wealth, looking in—never obtaining.

  It wasn’t that I wanted to be rich, I just wanted the security it provided. Money meant I wouldn’t be beholden to Frank, or those like him. Money meant freedom. There was an old saying about money and happiness, but what happiness could a person have without freedom?

  I turned a corner past a building and smacked into a woman. Stunned, I took a step back, apologizing. I checked to make sure the crash didn’t deduct HP, or add extra evil points. Thankfully, it hadn’t had any consequences.

  The woman was dressed in a long white dress, white shoes that were starting to brown around the soles, and a long fur fringe around her neck. She might have been quite a bit older, but still beautiful. She had one of those faces that aged well. I did a quick inspect.

  Gloria Mechan:

  Level 9

  Spec: Service

  HP: 395/400

  No specs, no weapons, and no magic. A blank kind of NPC who didn’t appear to have any skill set. I could kill her and just take the gold jewelry she wore around her neck and wrist—it might’ve been worth enough to get me that ticket. Too bad I was done killing people in this realm, real or not.

  “Sorry about that,” I said again, wondering why she wasn’t responding or walking away in horror at my evil level.

  She seemed nervous though, as if she were meeting a secret lover and now I could be the one person to point her husband in the right direction. I read in the forums that nearly every NPC had some kind of story, or something you could do for them.

  “You okay?” I asked, fishing for that quest.

  “I’m . . . I don’t know. I just started walking and . . .” She started crying and took out a handkerchief from her sleeve to dab her eyes and wipe her nose.

  “What’s going on? Do you need some help?”

  “I’m looking for someone,” she leaned in close, “to do a discreet act against another. Do you know who I can find for that?”

  “What kind of act?”

  “I’d rather not spell it out.”

  I kind of enjoyed seeing her squirm. “I think you’re going to have to.”

  “It’s my husband, okay? I found him with another woman, and if he leaves me, I’ll have nothing.”

  “And you want me to kill him, so you get to keep his estate,” I clarified.

  She nodded her head. “I’d pay you five thousand dollars. Please, I need a person like you to help me.”

  “A person like me?”

  “Yes, a person who doesn’t mind standing on the darker side of things.”

  “Because I’m evil.”

  “Yes. So, can you help me?”

  I closed my eyes in frustration. That was exactly how the path of evil progressed, and I didn’t want to see how far it went. If this NPC wanted to push me further in that direction, I suspected it might be a never-ending rabbit hole of evilness. Perhaps, if I started an alt on the next go-around, I’d stay on good terms. At least good enough to allow me access to Trinity hall when the time came. I had a feeling this game wouldn’t allow for the creation of an alternative character to play though.

  “I’m afraid I can’t help you,” I said.

  “I need you.” She grabbed my shoulders. “I have a lot of money. How about ten thousand?”

  I pulled back, freeing myself from her weak, pleading grip. “No, I’m not killing him. I’m not that kind of guy.”

  She sneered, disbelieving. “You aren’t that kind of guy? You think you can just pick and choose when you want to be the way you are? It doesn’t work like that. The world tells you what you are, and you are clearly a killer. Denying it just makes you look like a fool.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “I know enough. You must have a price, just name it.”

  “Go find someone else.”

  “Twenty thousand.”

  “You’re willing to go a lot higher, aren’t you?”

  Her lips thinned. “You have me at a disadvantage. Something that is very rare, use it wisely.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Kenneth Mechan.”

  “Why don’t you just take it as a win that I’m not going to tell Ken of our meeting here, okay?” I said and walked past her.

  “Fifty thousand!”

  I kept walking and hated myself for almost stopping and turning back to her. I did have a price, but that obviously wasn’t it. I was almost afraid to find what that number might be, and walked quicker. I was sure that if I had stuck around with that woman, I could have gotten much more. Of course, there is nothing in her that told me she would be honest about the transaction. She could have me killed as easily as her husband.

  I shook my head, angry. Why didn’t she just get a divorce?

  Glancing back down the street to where the woman had been, I saw she was gone. Good. I’d done enough killing for the day. The whole feeling of her looking at me like I was some criminal for hire dragged me down. It’s sad the only quest I could get was from a woman trying to get me to kill her husband.

  Putting the encounter behind me, my next attempt at a quest was in an establishment called The Dirty Bar, but even they turned me down, saying they didn’t want any more trouble, citing the fights already taking over the bar in a storm of cussing and broken glasses. A few whores were on display as well, parading around the patrons, but they kept their distance from me.

  I’d become a leper of sorts, and wondered if I had made a mistake with the distressed lady in white. I might have gotten enough out of her to join the Merchant clan.

  I went deeper into the outskirts of Bryer city. A few players were wandering around in the dimly lit streets, cast mostly in shadows as the sun moved to the end of its day. After a few more rejections, I started to skip places, based solely on how they appeared on the outside. A whore house had possibly the best hope for a quest, with its clientele out front, ogling at the naked woman displayed in the window. The door man glared at me and I kept moving.

  After a while, I found myself meandering; more or less, for the motion it made and the changes in the scrolling dirt beneath my feet. The kind of ambling you might do if you were lost and didn’t care. I was letting my friends down. They were going to have to carry me through another spot. I hated the idea of it, but I knew I’d accept it. I had to. Trevor was on that island, probably very close to killing the Spider Queen, and here I was, strolling the streets of a Bryer slab city.

  During my pity party, I learned something useful: the city was built in a circular arrangement. The streets were curved inward, so you couldn’t see down any one street for a far distance. Maybe it was a defensive tactic the architects came up with, but eventually I found myself heading back toward the center of town.

  The buildings were increasingly cleaner and taller, the glass held more color, and the front doors were more ornate. Not to mention, the guards were always around. I hadn’t noticed how few were in the seedy part of the city until I came back. The NPCs had a different air to them as well. They arched their backs, and seemed to look toward the sky versus the ground. Maybe because they didn’t have to worry about the poor road and sidewalk conditions.

  The street I was
on didn’t have a name I could see, but maybe I’d missed the sign somewhere along the way. In fact, if I’d known where I was headed, I wouldn’t have taken the street at all.

  Not far ahead, I saw a familiar sign above a shop that had once been open. Now the glass had large signs on it that said Closed Forever.

  Standing out front, with two guards, was the butcher’s wife. She held a handkerchief that looked wet and dirty. Even with the distance between us, I could see the redness in her eyes and around her nose, as she spoke to the guards. I ducked into a nearby shadow and moved closer, trying to hear the words being spoken.

  “I’ve told the other officers the same thing. I got here and he was gone, but there’s blood in there. He’s not missing.”

  “Ma’am, you work in a butcher shop, don’t you think it could be from that?”

  “No, Bob is a very clean man. He’d rather die than leave those blood specks on the floor.”

  My heart sank, seeing her in pain. Pain I caused. Even if I knew it was just a game, and she was an NPC playing a preprogrammed part, she played it so well I had a hard time differentiating the two.

  “Do you know of anyone who might want to hurt your husband?”

  “No, he was loved.” Then, her face lit up, as if a light bulb went off in her head. “There was a traveler here the day before, and he never turned in his quest.”

  “You remember what he looks like?”

  I leaned forward as the volume of their voices lowered.

  “He was a young man who seemed troubled. Bob was going to help him out, but I never would have. That was the kind of man he was . . .” She glanced directly at me and did a double take.

  In my attempt to hear, I’d moved into the light, losing my shadow.

  “That’s him, right there. Just look at him, you can tell he did it. He’s become eviler overnight. There’s only one thing that could create that much evil in a person. Murder.”

  “Hey, you, stay right there!” one of the guards ordered.

  I had a choice to make, and everything in me was saying run. The two guards outmatched me easily and the last thing I wanted to do was spend time in jail while Trevor took in all the spoils.