Shadow Seer (Rogue Merchant Book #3): LitRPG Series by Roman Prokofiev (english reading book TXT) 📗

how it was? A ticket? Were the Pandas trying to pull one over on me? Never! Ignoring the zwerg fidgeting in front of me, I reclined in a chair and called my personal manager, Akiru Sokolovskaya.

Thankfully, she answered almost immediately. I gave her a brief overview of the situation, mentioning my takeover and ransom of Pandorum’s juggernaut and the problems with withdrawing my well-earned money. Any applications sent by Diamond players received top priority; let her work.

“I see your point,” Akiru said after hearing me out. “Personally, I think you’re in the right. I will address your issue immediately. Still, by filling out the form as asked by the bank employee, you will speed up the process.”

“One more moment,” the Hamster’s manager said after getting and inspecting his demands. “You need to fill out a tax return form. Will you do it yourself or make use of our service? It will cost...”

Those swindlers! Basically, after their fee and the state tax, I would lose more than twenty-five percent of the original sum! With a flick of the wrist, four million gold—around three hundred, ninety thousand terro—transformed into two hundred, ninety thousand. Really, that would make anyone consider pulling out money illegally. I had just given them ninety thousand terro, almost a million of in-game currency!

Oh no, guys, this won’t do, this won’t do at all. My greed took over, and I spent a while figuring out how much money I needed exactly, ultimately changing the sum to two million gold or two hundred thousand terro. That was the minimum sum I needed in real life; the rest would remain in Sphere for the time being. I would have to learn the withdrawal scheme in detail; maybe there was a way to game it.

“If Phantom’s ticket is declined, how soon will the money be transferred to me?” I asked the manager, who was exhausted after filling out dozens of forms.

“There are bids for buying that amount of in-game gold,” he replied, shrugging. “Almost immediately, I think. Please wait!”

* * *

My father used to say that mornings were never good. To be honest, I had no idea why. A thin ray of sunshine slipped through the gap between the carelessly drawn curtains and gently tickled my nose. It was July; the sun rose early.

Finally awake, I fumbled about the nightstand. The communicator I had left there the night before unfolded in my hands, transforming from a wrist bracelet into a square panel. After identifying my face and my retina, the screen flashed an array of messages.

Yay! A payment had been deposited in my account! I got a transaction from Golden Hamster for the amount of one hundred, fifty-three thousand terro. So Phantom’s ticket was declined, and everything was fine. I was rich, dammit!

When I had found myself penniless after Nick’s scam, I became aware of the fragility of my life and the way of things. I felt insecure about my future. Finally, I was about to end this! I had made calculations long ago. Monthly loan payments for the capsule and the apartment weighed me down like a stone hanging around the neck of a drowning man. The interest, the commissions, the fees—all of that consumed money at annoyingly high speed. When I got the opportunity to escape that ball and chain, I would have been a fool to let it slip away.

I got online and checked my loan accounts. One hundred, seven thousand terro was the mortgage loan; the VR capsule needed thirty more thousand. Really, the comm was an amazing thing; our parents had never had them. A phone, an instant messenger, a camera with a micro projector, personal ID, a credit card, an immobilizer, the police code, a personalizer—all of that in one tiny strip made of metal and carbon fiber. It was one of the marvels of Japanese engineering that had transformed our country over the last three decades. I could do everything without leaving my bed.

I ordered my Magic Home to make me coffee and unflinchingly tapped the “Repay online” icon on my bank’s website. Several minutes later, the money was gone, funneled to two different accounts. I had no debt, and my balance shrunk to sixteen thousand terro. From now on, I had no way back. Shivers ran down my spine. I knew that nobody was going to forgive me and that the Pandas would keep trying to get their money back, even using real-life methods. In their eyes, I was a backstabbing scammer. Most of Pandorum was British people from Australia and Europe, Germans, Danes, and citizens of the Northern Alliance. Those countries seemed far away, but globalization made distance not an issue. Still, I didn’t think they would follow Goggy’s example and put pressure on me in real life. Most likely, they’d choose in-game methods. And even if they decided to switch to an open conflict, they had no idea about the Magister, Mr. Leo, or my connection to Sphere’s administration. Goggy had already broken his teeth; they would meet the same fate. Well, maybe.

My comm beeped, and I heard a pleasant chiming from the kitchen. My latte was ready. I jumped up, poured myself a large cup, and, savoring the aroma, set about my morning routine: reading the news on the official Sphere forum. Everyone should already know about the epic battle at Atrocity.

True, the local residents couldn’t miss out on a chance to discuss it; such large-scale tangles were pretty rare. Several topics, hundreds of pages, thousands of posts, videos, battle reports... Taken together, more than three thousand players had taken part in the fight. Pandorum had the numerical advantage, but they lost in combat efficiency—for the first time in recent history. The numbers were impressive, of course: almost thirteen hundred dead from Pandorum versus eight hundred from NAVY & Co. The Pandas, however, destroyed twenty-four astral ships, seven more than their opponents. Still, everything was