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

are Pandorum; these guys mean business. There they are, sitting in the corner, looking for someone named HotCat. Have you heard about him?”

Slightly confused, Thrainul glanced back at me and gestured at a table not far from the counter. I noticed him slip the barman a large envelope with a wax seal, and the orc quickly hid it somewhere under the bar. Secret dealings, faction quests, missions?

The trio of bounty hunters was perfectly visible from the chosen table. They were wearing cloaks of disguise, just like ours. Going by their figures, two men and a woman. I couldn’t make out their gear or weapons. How had they managed to track me down so quickly in this godforsaken world? Did Thrainul turn me in? Quite possibly. I had a hefty bounty on my head; it might have enticed him to secretly contact the Pandas’ mercenaries.

Thrainul: You didn’t say that Pandas were hunting you!

 

HotCat: So you’d turn me in back at the Iron City? How much did you get for the information, Cap?

 

Thrainul: Are you confusing me with someone else? I don’t give a damn about the Pandas. I don’t betray my passengers.

 

HotCat: Then, how did they find me here so quickly?

 

Thrainul: A seer or an oracle, lots of options... They’ve already made us. Get ready. I’ll try to cover for you.

 

A seer or an oracle? I hadn’t thought about that at all. The Pandas must have something like that. Actually, almost every large kingdom had NPCs with epic archetypes such as Fortune-teller, Oracle, or Seer. For a fee, they could track down a player. It wasn’t cheap, and they didn’t do it for everyone, but it was possible. All you needed was a nickname. A high-level Clairvoyance skill allowed them to pinpoint the target’s location with varying precision: the world, the area, the town... The strongest could give you specific coordinates down to a house. It was rumored that even players could become Oracles, and some might have already done that, but nobody knew the details.

The cloaked trio simultaneously got up and headed toward us. A fight seemed inevitable. I put my hand on the silver cross-guard under my cloak. The Pandas knew me, knew the properties of my sword, and must have been prepared for battle.

“Hyvaa yota!” their leader said, his voice muffled under the hood. The multilanguage pack helpfully informed me that it meant “Good evening” in Finnish, but a moment later, I realized that the stranger had simply introduced himself as he removed his hood to reveal his nickname.

The cloaks of disguise fell on the floor next to all three Pandas, and they deftly split, gracefully surrounding our table, weapons gleaming in their hands. Ran Dom was a sword-and-board tank. The woman, a gorgeous elf wearing violet clothes, seemed to be a battle mage, going by the fireball manifesting right in her palm. The third, the aforementioned Yota, glowered at me. He bore a slight resemblance to a Japanese, either due to his almond-shaped dark eyes, his hair tied in a ponytail and a bun, or his unusual weapon—a sharp sickle with a short handle, its blade matte-black.

Weapons clanged as they were drawn, and the music stopped, the heads of other customers turning in our direction at once.

Rocky froze in a fencing stance, impatiently swinging the tip of his heavy rapier aimed straight at the elf, and a giant glowing waraxe appeared in Thrainul’s hands. Even Fayana and Bonus sprang up, moving aside and looking for weapons. I was the only one who remained sitting, anxiously calculating possibilities in my head.

“What do you want, Pandas?” the zwerg thundered, adjusting his grip on the axe. “These players are under my protection!”

“Step aside, player. Calm your pawns down. We have no argument with you,” Yota said, quiet and calm. “Let your companion remove the hood.”

“Really? Or what?” Thrainul kept staring straight at him.

“Or we’ll put down each and every one of you,” Yota replied, unfazed. “I’m counting to three. One!”

“It’s the Hole, not the freaking Netherworld. We have our own laws,” Thrainul continued pushing. “If you want to fight, then...”

“Two!”

“Captains, what are you doing hiding your tongues in your asses?” Thrainul suddenly barked across the room. “Will we let Pandas dictate their rules here?”

“Thrainul’s right! It won’t do!” a one-eyed giant of an orc exclaimed, standing up. His face scarred, his mouth full of fangs, he looked like the quintessential pirate. The others rose too—almost all of the customers grinned as they drew their weapons. Suddenly, the three Pandas were surrounded by a circle of blades, and numbers were on our side.

“Fighting is forbidden in Pirate’s Heaven!” the orc barman said from behind the counter, nodding. “And so are spells of mass destruction. This is the Hole, Pandas! Get the hell away from my place and cut each other apart as much as you like!”

“But only one on one,” Rocky added in a creepy tone.

“Who’s decided that?” Yota asked, looking around the wall of blades encircling him. He was probably considering if he should take on a score of players and pawns. Could the three of them defeat that crowd?

“Step back! Remove your hoods! Put your weapons away!”

A patrol of local NPC guards entered the tavern, pushing the crowd apart with their shoulders. One of the onlookers must have summoned them. They looked rather impressive—tall and slender, clad in black sharkskin armor with massive shields and artifact weapons forged from translucent bone. Humanoid in shape, they still had scales on the uncovered areas of their bodies and three-fold gill slits behind their ears. Their appearance seemed to make the Pandas lower their weapons.

Reluctant, I pulled my hood down, making Yota nod in satisfaction as he drilled holes in me with his eyes—you’re not going anywhere.

“I need this player’s ears,” he said, pointing at me. “He has a