The Gene of the Ancients (Rogue Merchant Book #2): LitRPG Series by Roman Prokofiev (ebook reader for comics .TXT) 📗

capsule, while the robovacs circled the apartment, buzzing, and Alena hummed a tune while washing something in the kitchen. At last, life returned to its course.

* * *

 

Day by day, I continued working at a leisurely pace. I met my clanmates, visited the clan warehouses, and sent deliveries to the Eyre auction. Twice more I went to the Bazaar, buying and selling the stuff the clan needed. My latest visit turned out especially well. Komtur told me to purchase a huge batch of expensive magic gems with Estel affix, to be inlaid into PvE sets, probably intended for farming Helt Akor. I managed to buy them directly from an Upper World trader whose contacts I got via the Shadow Guild chat, shaving off almost a hundred thousand from the expected price. The Watchers Council were so happy they gave me a bonus, five thousand gold.

Roughly speaking, while working just for the clan, I earned around ten grand as my salary, a Silver Spark, basic consumables, and compensation for the equipment lost during raids. I also got as much for small errands, such as fetching items from the Bazaar and reselling them. I could live on that money, but I wanted to live well, being used to good food and never bothering to look at price tags while buying stuff. And then, I had loans that needed to be paid. I had already calculated that to maintain status quo, I had to withdraw around seventy or eighty thousand gold each month. Playing the Bazaar stock market was interesting enough, but I wanted a separate source of income — or why else I join the Watchers?

Taking my time, I studied all the available information, examining the transactions of clan accounts, reading the bulletins, the alliance mass messages, chats, and forums. For my actions to become truly efficient, I had to become a part of that system, grasp its inner workings, and understand its mechanism.

Eventually, I came to a few conclusions. I estimated the clan’s budget, monthly turnover, and the approximate sums used for various needs, like salaries for officials such as myself, buying Sparks to prolong subscription, allowances for crafting or buying consumables. Most transactions covering such expenses were made from several accounts I had no control over; only Council members and Komtur himself could handle them.

The first account, called Alliance, apparently stored funds for mutual settlements with the alliance and related transactions. The second one was more interesting. It was called Rent, and it was the biggest source of Watcher’s income. The amounts were truly impressive. Intrigued, I started digging.

Turned out, it was the monthly payments of the tenants: clans that rented part of the Watchers’ territory. The Northern Alliance controlled a big part of the Wild Lands, the entire northwest of Dorsa — almost a quarter of the continent, stretching from the Windy Sea to the Wild Field. It was made of twenty-two clans with more than a hundred thousand in-game accounts, more than half of them active. It was always surprising that with such numbers, the Watchers had gathered less than four hundred players to fight the PROJECT. Where were those thousands of allies?

It took me a while to put my finger on the reasons. There were only five PvP clans, the core alliance members. It was them who had helped each other a year ago, restoring order in the northwest with an iron fist and taking control over the vast territories.

Yet they hadn’t gotten the numbers to populate and hold the piece they had bitten off. That is why the Northern Alliance, keeping the richest area, opened its domain to settlers, or “carebears,” small and big farming clans preferring PvE to PvP. Those clans could live in the Wild Lands, farm dungeons and mobs, build outposts and mine resources, and in return, they paid rent, the size of which varied and depended on how rich and big their area was. The warriors of the alliance, in turn, guaranteed the farmers’ security and protected them in case of aggression. Strange as it may seem, the Watchers, a PvP clan with just five hundred members, mattered more than thousands of small fry.

I realized that it was serious business. The rent money was enough to pay the core members a salary and cover all expenses, probably with plenty to spare. The Watchers’ leadership was definitely far from poor, and now I knew where it was coming from. With those sums in mind, it became clear why the screening process was so hardcore; there was too much money involved to invite random people.

I also realized that I was entrusted with small potatoes. Six available accounts were not bad, but mostly, it was routine buying and selling through old schemes. Well, it would be stupid to expect the Watchers to let me manage all of their funds straight away. Essentially, it was a decent source of steady income that allowed me to deal with my real-life problems. Let’s start with the small before going at full throttle.

Despite my tasks, I continued training hard. A hundred duels per day became part of my daily schedule. After reaching rank three, my melee skills increased at an annoyingly slow pace, and earning new SP required performing elaborate techniques. My personal skills also grew, and I didn’t even notice how I became a regular patron of the Eyre arena. Clan training under skilled teachers and constant arena practice bore fruits, and progress was inevitable.

Newbies and clanless players didn’t pose any danger to me anymore, and most of my duels were against pro fighters of the alliance. I came to grips with not being a champion, but was on the verge of becoming an all-around strong fighter able to keep up with veterans. Even masters such as Balian, Loser, and Dimonicus had to make an effort to defeat me.

One day in the arena, I suddenly bumped into old friends, Diareus and Svenn.