Blood for Power: A LitRPG Apocalypse

I was frowning as we entered the market district. It was almost as large as the city center, with its own square and rows of stores in three directions. The streets and shopfronts looked like they’d just be cleaned. This was a place of wealth that offered premium items, and yet I still couldn’t get my mind off of earlier. There was still something about that whole encounter that was strange in a way that I struggled to put into words.

I stopped and asked Hugo, “did the monks seem off to you?”

He looked at me as if I might have a concussion. “No, the clergyman carrying weapons and armor that tried to extort us seemed perfectly normal to me.”

“Yeah, but that part felt almost expected. It’s just that Roan said they’d be more alien. Then the first guy that introduces himself is named Father Thomas? It just seems odd.”

“You were expecting the priest to introduce himself as Father Zeepthorp? You think Roan could be lying?”

“No, but he was vague when describing the human faction. Saying that they’re more alien than us could mean a hundred different things. We may have bought access to travel through their territory, but I think we should keep our distance until we learn more. For now, keep playing the simple bird role around the humans.”

Hugo: Is that your way of telling me to shut up?

Lucas: Of course not. Companion chat doesn’t have a mute button.

Hugo grumbled under his breath as I stopped at the first store. We peered through the large glass windows and saw shelves of potions on display. The finely engraved sign above called this place Mizick’s Masterful Concoctions.

A premium potion store was an interesting place to start. Especially if we could find something throwable that could destroy those anti-magic lanterns. Not that I was planning to fight them. It was just good to be prepared.

A bell rang as I opened the door and went inside. Hugo silently remained on my shoulder, but he watched everything with open curiosity.

Mizick’s potion store was a medium sized one with several aisles. It appeared to have only a single employee. A tan man in his forties with sharp eyes and flat features. He wore a brown apron over his white shirt to present the appearance that he’d just come out of a workshop. But the pristine white shirt gave him away.

The man, who I took to be Mizick, stared at us with suspicion. His store had no other customers, save for a male goblin wearing a large coat who’d come in before us. The goblin walked down one of the aisles like they knew where they were going and disappeared from sight.

Mizick’s hostility seemed unwarranted. I wondered if we’d done something wrong or if he just didn’t like Tower Climbers. He didn’t say anything, so I ignored him and began perusing the potions on display.

The first ones we came across were these thin green vials with a label underneath, describing them as instant preservatives to make food last longer. Not particularly helpful in our situation, but I had to keep in mind that this was a store for the whole city and not just Tower Climbers.

I was about to move on when Mizick loudly coughed and said, “ahem!”

I turned and calmly asked, “is there a problem?”

“There’s no need to take that tone, sir.”

Hugo and I glanced at each other. “I don’t have a tone.”

Mizick pointed to the sign beside his cash register. “No pets allowed. You think the rules don’t apply to you because you carry that sword?”

Hugo said nothing, but his talons dug deeper into my shoulder. He would continue to play his part, but he expected me to come to his defense. Which I did.

“He’s not a pet,” I said. “He’s… an emotional support companion.”

Mizick frowned. “What’s that?”

I guess that wasn’t something they had where this guy grew up. His patience was wearing thin, so I quickly tried to explain why it was important that my bird accompany me.

“It’s an animal you own that…” Hugo’s talons dug in deeper. “That provides someone to care for and look after. An animal that offers companionship and feels good to have around.”

Mizick looked unimpressed. “That’s a pet,” he said flatly. “You are literally describing the reasons why people have pets.”

Hugo: Are you sure you don’t want me to jump in?

It was time to switch tactics. I pointed to a one-of-a-kind potion on the shelf behind him. A square bottle with golden liquid inside.

“How much does that cost?” I asked.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“Tower Climbers earn a lot of money as they descend through the floors.”

“So?”

Lucas: Okay, now he’s just being deliberately obtuse.

“So,” I said. “I am going to peruse your wares and likely spend a great sum of money here. And the only trace left behind by my bird and I, will be the money in your pocket and some empty shelf space. Unless of course, you’d rather I take my business elsewhere?”

He glowered for a moment before giving a stiff nod of acceptance.

Hugo: I can’t believe that worked.

Lucas: The power of money strikes again. Let’s focus on offensive potions first, before looking at the ones for healing. But before we do that, I want to know what he thinks about the monks.

“As I said before, I’m new to the city and I had a little trouble getting here after I had an encounter with some worshippers of the Harvest Mother.”

He snorted. “Those freaks? They like to pretend like all of us humans are a part of their flock, but we’re not. Most of us stay away from them.”

I noticed a large stock of purple bottles near the front without labels on them and asked what they were.

“They’re our most popular seller at the moment,” he said. “They dispel curses.”

“All curses? How does that work?”

He folded his arms. “It’s a propriety formula.”

Hugo: Sounds like a scam.

Lucas: Agreed. Let’s move on.

We took at the next shelf. This one had large bottles with golden brown liquid inside. There was no label on them, but the goblin from earlier was staring at them too.

“Hey, do you know what this stuff is?” I asked the goblin in a low voice. “I’d kinda prefer not to ask the manager. Already had one negative run in with him today.”

The goblin’s hands shook, and he was sweating profusely. He turned to me with a wide-eyed look. “The spirits are restless. I’ve taken so many of their kind, but the need for more is inexhaustible.” He frowned at me. “But you have seen this. You killed one of us.” He grimaced. “I must warn the others before I complete my work.”

He started to leave when he suddenly yelped, “ow!”

Above his head was a bottle being held in a ghostly hand. The goblin angrily pointed at me. “You hit me with a bottle!”

Hugo: No, he didn’t. It was me!

The crow used his Spectral Touch ability to swing the bottle down on the goblin’s head again. The goblin yelled in pain and tried to grab the bottle, but it floated out of his reach.

Lucas: What are you doing?

Hugo: I’m knocking him out, like in the movies. He’s clearly up to no good. We should carry his unconscious body somewhere for questioning.

The goblin sank to the floor and stared off into space. He clearly wasn’t all there, but if he knew something about the spirit killer device, then we’d find out.

“Hey, you need to pay for that,” Mizick yelled, completely unconcerned about his customers fighting each other.

I forced Hugo to hand it to me and took a closer look at the label. It read ‘Glenmizick whiskey, freshly distilled.’

“You serve alcohol here?” I asked. “And more importantly, did you put Glen in front of your name, thinking it would make it sound fancier?”

He gave a small shrug. “I serve the needs of my customers. Whatever they need, I provide.”

“So you’re saying it’s a fluid business?” Hugo asked aloud.

“Oh, nice one,” I said.

Mizick frowned. “Wait, your bird can talk?”

Hugo: Damn it, Lucas. I’ve been made!

Lucas: You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?

“I’m sorry,” Hugo said. “I’ll put the bottle back.”

He used his ghost hand to take it off me, but Hugo’s offer wasn’t good enough.

Mizick shook his head. “No, you have to pay for it now that it’s damaged.”

Hugo lifted it up to his face to examine it. “It doesn’t even have a scratch on it! Really great glass construction by the way, but still, I don’t think I should have to pay for this.”

“Just buy the booze, Hugo. We’ve wasted enough time on this.”

The crow grumbled something under his breath and then flew to the counter to buy the bottle where it then disappeared into his inventory. I approached the counter and asked, “maybe you can help speed things along. We’re looking for offensive potions, you know, face melting acid in a jar, that sort of thing. Once we’ve got that, we’ll take our green skinned friend and leave you in peace.”

There was a loud crash behind us. The goblin had stood and deliberately knocked over several potions. “At last, your people will begin to answer for your crimes,” he declared, before opening his jacket. Underneath it was a vest packed with explosives.

I grabbed Mizick and Hugo and dove away through the front window as the store exploded.

The three of us landed hard on the street. I’d gone through the window first and was covered in glass. Mizick lay on the ground moaning, but it didn’t appear serious, so I checked on Hugo first. My body seemed to have shielded the bird from the worst of it. I pulled a shard of glass out of my cheek and used a few rat corpses from my inventory to heal us both.

Mizick was looking a bit rougher. I handed him a health potion, and said, “here, drink this. If it doesn’t fully heal you in twenty minutes, then go see a doctor.”

He drank half of the potion and then said, “but I am the city doctor.”

“Man, you’re wearing a lot of hats in this town,” Hugo said.

“I’ve had to because of things like these,” he replied, raising the health potion. “Years of medical training rendered obsolete by a drink.” He sneered and then finished the rest of it. “God, it even tastes good.” He stared at the burning wreckage that used to be his. “My business is gone. I’m ruined.”

“Don’t you have insurance or something?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“Do you think that was wise, given your proximity to the goblins?” Hugo asked.

Mizick slammed his fist into the ground. He looked up at us, his eyes burning. “This is your fault! You attract trouble. You set the goblin off with your talk and hitting him with that bottle. That’s probably what set him off in the first place. You need to pay me back for destroying my store.”

“How much would that cost?” I ask.

“100,000 gold.”

I shook my head. Even combined, Hugo and I didn’t have that much money. And even if we did, I wouldn’t be eager to give it to this guy.

“Fine,” he said. “You’re both strong and fast. Maybe you can help me physically rebuild the place?” He saw my expression and then turned his pleading eyes to Hugo.

“I’ve actually got a lot on my plate right now,” Hugo said.

Mizick was about to say something else when four muscular bound men in suits ran towards us. Only they weren’t exactly men. They had gray skin, small tusks, and each one was over seven feet tall. Their appearance instantly made me think of orcs.

Three of them held chrome-plated pistols, while the fourth carried a big metal canister.

I put my hands up and said, “Whatever you may have heard about me. I promise I didn’t do it.”

They ran past me to assess the fire damage to the store.

“What do you think?” one of them asked.

Another sniffed the air. “Smells like goblin homebrew. Tanite, maybe?”

The one holding the canister, lobbed it into the burning store. White foam exploded inside and quenched the flames.

The others nodded in agreement on a job well done before they looked at Hugo and I on the floor.

“Bring them in for questioning,” one of them said.

Hugo’s eyes lit up as he put two and two together. “Oh, so this is what Gren meant when he said they’re Gr—”

I clamped my hand over the bird’s mouth before he could finish that sentence.

Lucas: Roan said that that word is offensive to orcs or whatever they are. And before you say it, I’m just calling them that as a shorthand instead.

Hugo: Okay, I get it. Don’t accidentally throw racial slurs at the gun toting aliens. Now, can you remove your hand? It stinks of blood.

The orcs grabbed us both and said, “you’re coming with us. The boss wants to have a word.”

As we were being dragged away, I heard Mizick angrily shout, “hey what about my store!”