<< System Reminder: This weapon will be destroyed should any Player transport it back to Earth! >>
<< System Warning: This weapon will now be destroyed! >>
The khopesh crumbled like dry sand between Jin’s fingers, its rusted edge dissolving into nothingness. He exhaled through his nose, watching the last flecks of metal drift away as the final warning disappeared from his system log the instant he stepped out of the RIFT.
“Not even a rusted sword,” he muttered. “All these years, and this is the first time I’ve had it happen to me.”
Behind him, Old Man Sid shifted the weight of his own haul – a dozen identical khopesh in a sack slung over his shoulder, their pitted blades cast a dull reflection in the dawn light. Not a single one showed any sign of being usable.
“Back then,” the veteran Cleaner grunted as he took out one of the weapons and gave it a smooth and effortless swing, “you were one of us. Unawakened. Now?” He gestured his chin toward the portal, where a few Players were loitering. “Now you’re one of them.”
Jin flexed his fingers. He could feel the weight of the vapourised weapon lingering despite the system’s enforcement.
“Rules are rules,” he said, but his voice lacked its usual excitement. The disparity gnawed at him – Old Man Sid could haul out armfuls of loot and drops while Jin looked on with envy as invisible chains bound his inventory.
Old Man Sid hefted the khopesh, testing its balance. “Doesn’t mean these damned things are worth a shit, though,” he muttered. “Sealed abilities, unknown properties, shit durability. Might as well be carrying scrap. But scrap’s all we can carry.” He shot Jin a sidelong glance. “Even then, once you Players use them, and poof.” He mimed an explosion with his free hand. “Even we can’t salvage them. Gone like last night’s mistakes.”
Jin didn’t say anything. And Old Man Sid didn’t need him to. The procession of Cleaners was already winding past them, stretchers groaning under the weight of black bags. The morning air carried the sharp tang of antiseptic and iron. Old Man Sid bowed his head as they passed, and Jin followed suit, the gesture automatic after years of shared silence in moments like these.
“Thank you,” the veteran Cleaner said with the usual gruff voice. “For coming back when you don’t need to.”
Jin didn’t answer. His eyes lingered on the bags – too many for a single RIFT dive. “Families,” he said at last. “They deserve some semblance of closure.”
Old Man Sid exhaled, his calloused hands gripping the khopesh tighter before putting it back in the sack he was carrying. “Some things never change,” he said, his eyes dull as if he was peering into the past himself. Then, with a jerk of his head, he motioned Jin to follow him. “Come on. Chief’s expecting us before noon, and we’ve still got stones to haul. Assuming those damned statues are worth the effort.”
Jin cast one last look at the portal, its surface rippling like a mirage. The Anpu Statue’s stones were the only thing of value inside besides the weapons, and those were a gamble. “Map’s done?” he asked, falling into step beside Old Man Sid.
“Half a day’s work,” came the reply. “But we’re not sticking around. Let the newbies earn their keep.” He walked toward one of the trucks that the Cleaner used to store the scavenged loot before being taken to the headquarters for an audit check. “Stones first. Then the rest. Standard op. But from the looks of it, this will be a shit haul. Not worth the damn effort.”
Jin nodded, but his mind was already elsewhere – on the five chests waiting in his inventory, and the one question gnawing at him: Who the hell could appraise what he’d got?
Jin’s fingers drummed against his thigh as he waited for Old Man Sid to finish hauling the rusted weapon. Alas, he couldn’t wait any longer.
“By the way,” he said, his voice casual but eyes sharp, looking for anyone within earshot, “you know anyone with Appraisal skills?”
Old Man Sid’s bushy eyebrows shot up. He stopped mid-stride, and the sack of rusted khopesh clattered against the wall of the cargo container. “Oh?” he grunted, turning to Jin with eyes glinting with anticipation. “Got yourself something nice, did you?”
Jin didn’t smile. Nor did he answer verbally. All he did was to mime a square and spread all the fingers on one hand. But it was enough to send the message.
“That damned Boss Monster sure is generous,” Old Man Sid cracked a grin as he whispered his next words. “Four more than the others, right?”
Jin nodded. He didn’t mention that the title
Old Man Sid’s expression turned cold for a second. He knew the unspoken rules: flaunt your rewards, flaunt your grave. “You didn’t tell the others, did you?” he stated.
“No.” Jin’s voice was flat. “And I won’t.”
Old Man Sid took a deep long breath while rubbing the stubble on his chin. “Smart. Jealousy’s the quickest way to a knife in the back.” He glanced around, his voice still hushed. “I know a couple at HQ. Reliable. Discreet.”
Jin shook his head. “Anyone from SeComm is a bad idea.” He then motioned Old Man Sid to come closer and whispered, “Know anyone from the Underworld?”
Old Man Sid’s recoiled at the mention. “What?!”
His booming voice echoed off the cargo container, drawing the attention of a trio of Cleaners lugging a wheelbarrow of loot nearby. One of them – a wiry man with a scar running from his temple to his jaw – paused, eyes flicking toward them.
Old Man Sid didn’t hesitate. He waved them away, slammed the container’s door shut and latched it before grabbing Jin’s arm and yanking him into a desolate corner some distance away. He scanned the area one last time, making sure they were alone.
“Have you lost your damn mind?!” Sid hissed, his face inches from Jin’s. “You’re a licensed Player, not some back-alley rogue! The Underworld isn’t a black market! It’s fucking a meat grinder. You step in there, swinging your balls around, and you’re marking yourself for every cutthroat from all the Neo-Tokyo’s six wards.
Jin didn’t flinch. “Exactly.”
Old Man Sid blinked. “Exactly what?”
“If I go to the Underworld,” Jin said, his voice calm, “news spreads. Fast. Half a day, tops. Maybe less.”
“And for what? You’d be dead before you know it.”
“They have to come to me first,” Jin replied, a ghost of a smile flickering across his lips, “Out in the open. Where I can see them coming.”
Old Man Sid’s face twisted in disbelief. “You’re talking nonsense. There’s no way you can see all of them coming.”
“Maybe. But I’m playing the game.” Jin’s smile faded. “You know the rules, Sid. When a Player dies, except what they’re wearing or holding, everything in their inventory vanishes in ninety seconds.” He tapped his temple. “And I’ll fill mine with trash. So, if they want what I’ve got, they’ll have to trade for it. Or take it the old-fashioned way.” His eyes glinted. “Either way, I’ll learn what it’s really worth.”
Old Man Sid stared at him for a long moment, then let out a low, disbelieving laugh. “You’re either a genius or a corpse waiting to happen.”
Jin didn’t argue. He knew the risks. But he also knew the Underworld was the only place where secrets had a price, and he intended to find out what his were worth.
Old Man Sid slumped his shoulder, scrubbing a hand over his bald head. “You know what? I got a better idea. Less crazy but might be more rewarding.”
Jin’s eyes widened. “Oh? What is it then?”
Old Man Sid glanced around again, then lowered his voice further. “I’ve got an old contact. Athena’s Auction House.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“The auction house? Isn’t that for Gold rank and above only?”
“Shh!” Old Man Sid clamped a calloused hand over Jin’s mouth and nose, cutting off his air. “You trying to get us both killed before sunrise?” He waited until Jin nodded, then slowly released him. “Those ranks above the Gold are only for the good stuff. Privileges mean you get first dibs on the rare shit. Beyond what the likes of us can ever dream of,” he muttered. “But anyone can sell. Even the newbies. And anyone can buy the normal. If that place ever does normal.”
Jin shot his old friend a surprise look. “Since when do you know so much about the auction house?”
Old Man Sid grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Who do you think I was before I got respectable?” He leaned in, his voice a rasp. “Sidney the Bloodless Butcher. Thirty years ago, I could carve up an ogre in the dark and not spill a drop. Had clients.” His grin faded. “Still do, sometimes.”
“Either that or some of the stuff stolen under your nose got auctioned there. Am I right?”
“Fuck off. Don’t blow my secrets away, will you?”
The two men laughed.
“Anyway,” Jin said, rubbing his chin, “you’re saying your contact can appraise my stuff? Discreetly?”
“Discreet, yes. Better than those cutthroats at the black market. Especially Underworld.”
“There’s a ‘but’ somewhere, right?”
Old Man Sid smirked. “Will cost you pretty dollars. And you have to wait for your turn. Last I heard, all of the appraisers, even the one who only recently started, are fully booked. Six months waiting time.”
“But you said you got someone inside?”
“To get us in, yes. Appraise, maybe. Cut the queue, you know. Instead of six months, it will be a week or two.”
“Fuck that. That’s too long. And I’m bloody broke as it is.” Jin met Old Man Sid’s gaze. His resolve was clear. “I’ll go to the Underworld first. And if everything fails, then we can try the auction house.”
Old Man Sid studied him for a long moment, then shook his head. “You sure are going to get me killed one of these days.” He crossed his arms and continued, “But I’ll come with you. At least, if you got stabbed in the back, I can laugh at you, while telling you, ‘I told you so’.”
“The last face I want to see when I die is yours, Sid. I won’t die a dog’s death.”
Old Man Sid laughed. “Sure. Whatever you say, champ. Anyway, what the hell did you get that makes you in such a rush?”
“I’ll tell you sometime. Or maybe never.”
***
At night, the border of Ward 3 and Ward 4 was a dystopian nightmare of neon and orderly chaos. Storefronts armoured up behind heavy shutters and bodyguards. Players who looked like they butchered more humans than the food they sold manned the street stalls, with thugs loitering around without a care. It was a time for the desperate and the powerful – a haven where the black market breathed with freedom, and the law was the whims of whoever was the strongest.
But as the sun rose, the district pulled on a mask of normalcy.
Now, in the early morning rush, the place was a throng of residents. Moms hauled groceries, office workers marched to their workplace, and students scampered as the school bells rang out in the distance. To any outsider, it was another typical town.
Jin knew better. He knew the ‘normal’ was nothing more than a thin veneer. Behind the generic signage of a laundromat or in the back office of a failing bookstore, the black market was still wide awake.
Especially the Underworld, the premier location for such activities. By day, it was a mall. Not even the fancy type, either. The air-conditioning was prone to failure, and the elderly tended the stores. The fashions were a collection of clothes three summers too late, and the groceries were simple at best.
Yet, Players moved through the crowds like snakes in a koi pond. While a resident bought a loaf of bread, millions in illicit loot moved through reinforced basement doors just twenty feet under.
He and Old Man Sid blended in perfectly. They had haunted these streets back in their Cleaner days, hunting the scums who’d managed to snatch a loot or two from SeComm containers. They knew which ‘No Entry’ doors were actually open, and exactly which ordinary-looking shop hid the most dangerous secrets.
But Underworld was still a new territory for him. So, Old Man Sid took the lead. However, what Jin wasn’t prepared for was how well the veteran Cleaner was received here.
“M-Master Sid?” One of the cooks immediately recognised the old man as he and Jin entered through the back door. “W-What’s bringing you here?”
“A set of dim sum to go. Hurry.”
The cook raised his eyebrows. Yet, instead of preparing breakfast, he led Old Man Sid and Jin deeper into the kitchen until they reached a red door.
“Sifu is inside,” the cook said before he opened the door.
Yet, before any of them stepped inside, the smell hit them first. The stinking, humid air clung through the littlest of openings, and with it, came the sharp, stinging stench of ammonia. Beyond the red door, trapped in a warehouse lit by the sickly yellow flicker of overhead tubes, were rows of cages.
The Underworld was not just a place where a Player could get their hands on ill-gotten loot, but also a giant storage locker for living meat.
Row upon row of iron-barred cages lined the walls. A Blood Wolf pup, its muzzle bound in coarse hemp rope, let out a wet, whistling sound as it breathed through its bruised nose. Further down, a pair of Hobgoblins slumped against each other, their green skin caked in dried grey mud, their necks tethered to the floor by chains so short they couldn't even stand. Another cage housed a single Orc, half dead with its genitals severed at the base; the wound left untreated.
Without saying anything else, Old Man Sid stepped inside the Underworld, followed by Jin. The door latched once they entered, and a few more ‘cooks’ approached them.
“Master Sid? Are you here for the usual?”
Old Man Sid waved them away. “I’m here with a guest. To see Sifu.”
“Very well. Please follow us.”
No other words were exchanged as the two guided him and Jin through the cage maze. Until they passed a scene that forced Jin to stop, his eyes widening in surprise.
A group of butchers carved a large carcass – a bipedal reptile – across the wet floor. They displayed its head on a table, propped up for passers-by to gawk at. Should a spark of interest hook them in, the bidding began.
“That’s the bloody Rank-B RIFT’s Boss Monster they stole from us,” Old Man Sid said as the two stopped for a moment and observed the chaos.
Bids erupted, thick with a feverish desperation that warred with a sharp edge of caution, but the value was undeniable. In the end, the head sold for thirty-five million Alliance dollars. The number, however, irked Jin to no end.
“It’s a stolen loot. And that money belonged to us. So, why don’t we take it back? Is SeComm too stretched to punish a few thieves?"
The veteran Cleaner shook his head. “Got to make a little concession.”
“What kind of concession?”
Jin crossed his arms, looking at the butchers stacking away the reptile’s head and replacing it with a two-foot-long penis. That body part turned every Player there into ravenous crowd, and the bids came in an unrelenting tide.
“The kind that makes these people a little less dangerous to us.”
Jin glanced around the place. It was smelly and chaotic, sure. But despite that, no Players tried to overwhelm the others or the bid losers beating up the winners. Instead, they acted with discipline as if someone was monitoring them from afar. Like an oyabun supervising his clan members from misbehaving. Something that Jin knew all too well.
“Come. Let’s not waste time.” Old Man Sid urged the guide to hurry up and led them to meet the owner of this place.
They passed through a well-guarded door, and once again, the guards let the veteran Cleaner and Jin in without hassle. Seated around a large, round, marbled table was a man in red samfu with gold trim, drinking tea.
“Ah, Sid the Bloodless Butcher,” he said with a warm smile, beckoning Old Man Sid to take a seat with him. “If I’m not wrong, there’s no client for you currently. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your surprise visit?”
Old Man Sid took a seat, but Jin declined, wanting to stand guard instead.
“Still to the point, I see. Then I won’t waste your time. My boy here has something to ask.”
“All the way here?” Sifu smiled. “Must be a very interesting question that HQ can’t answer. Ask away, then.”
Old Man Sid turned to Jin and nodded.
“Can you appraise items?" Jin asked. "I have a few that I need help with.”
No answer came. Instead, Sifu drank his tea slowly from a jade cup, savouring every drop. After a while, he set the cup down and muttered a short string of Mandarin. A ripple of cruel laughter echoed from the shadows of the room.
“I have no appraisers for you, greenhorn," Sifu said, his voice smooth as silk. "You look like a boy who found a shiny pebble and thinks he’s discovered a star. From my experience, a sparrow does not bring anything that interests a dragon.”
The rejection didn't surprise Jin since he had expected as much. Instead, it was the words Sifu had used to mock Old Man Sid for bringing ‘trash’ into his home that stunned him. It sounded cultured, but the meaning was anything but. Jin understood every word, but he kept his tongue still.
Sifu then turned to Old Man Sid. “Are you now a father raising a cow, Sid?”
Jin’s face was calm, but his fingers twitched.
And this time, Old Man Sid’s realised what Sifu was alluding to. Yet, he kept his cool and smiled. “What do you mean, Sifu?”
The man scoffed before he once again took a sip from his jade cup. “I welcome you here because of our similar disposition, Bloodless Butcher. And what you do interests me. But a reminder. Next time you bring another greenhorn sparrow to me, I will kill you where you sit. My time is–“
“Wasted?!” Jin scoffed. He had listened enough. “The same here.”
His interruption startled Sifu, and in the same breath, twelve men poured from the shadows, their weapons unsheathed. But unknown to them, Jin had his threads ready, and if any of them moved closer, he would lop their head off on the spot.
“This is more like it,” Jin said. “I heard Underworld used to be dangerous. What do they say again, Sid? Nine lives and?”
“And one tea set,” Old Man Sid added.
“Ah. I don’t have nine lives, and I don’t have a tea set with me. What I have, however, is a stat seed and some items that need to be appraised by someone. Anyone that can zip his mouth proper. But from your words, it seems like you’re too good for me.”
“You can ask the auction house,” Sifu said, his anger boiling as the jade cup trembled. “Not here. We only deal with–“
“Stolen carcass from Sid’s place, right?” Jin mimicked the way the butcher had carved the carcass. “Bunch of thieves, led by an even bigger pompous thief. Sipping tea as if he’s a nobility or something. Come Sid. This Sifu is nothing but a waste of time. Like he said, I’ll ask the auction house instead.”
Old Man Sid stood up, gave a little bow and walked away. Jin followed, and only when they reached the door did he release the tension on the threads coiled around the bodyguards' throats. He didn't let them move freely yet, keeping the invisible garrottes taut enough to serve as a warning.
“Try to check out the auction house if you have time,” Jin said before he left the place. “I’m sure whatever happens in the next few days will surprise you some. And then, you’ll realise that your experience means jackshit if you sit on your arse all day long and sip tea.”
Old Man Sid, standing by the doorway, chuckled. “Sifu, if I know one thing about this boy, he will surprise you to no end. Now, where should we go again?”
Jin smiled. His friend had caught on with his play, after all.
“The Chairman said he wanted to see us. What was it about again? Ah, right. About the Lowenhald, Sinclair and Wong Clan. Sure is busy being a greenhorn, huh?”