Chapter 108: Makoa, Hero of Desham

“Kyle?! No no no!” Makoa tried to run, but the slave engraving on his chest began to burn, causing him to wince and double over as he rolled on the floor.

“Made a nice haul, I see. Thanks for the help.”

“It-it’s fucking mine!”

“Sure.” Kyle flipped Makoa over, his hand reaching into the armour and pulling out the heavy sack of Versian coins. Well, that’s the operational budget of the new base covered. I can use this now to buy resources on the black market.

Makoa was nearly on the verge of tears. He had thought he managed to escape Kyle’s grasp, hoping to run to a town even further away from Yual Dominion. Why the fuck is he even here? Wasn’t he in Tenar?!

“Don’t be so emotional at our reunion.” Kyle smiled as he patted Makoa on the back. “You look like you are about to cry.”

Fuck you! Makoa did not want to antagonise Kyle right now, especially when he was exhausted from having to run away from the soldiers. He laid on his back as the burning sensation from the engraving began to die down, looking up at the sky and lamenting his fate.

Kyle did not bother with the emotional Makoa, instead estimating the amount of Versian coins in the sack. “I heard the town is low on food overall.”

“Fuck you, I’m not going to tell yo-GAAAH” Makoa flinched as the burning sensation on his chest returned.

“Ready?”

“F-f-fuc—I mean yes, yes STOP STOP!” Makoa held his hands up in surrender. He regretted not immediately removing the slave engraving, but he did not have the money to guarantee a proper removal. The removal would include having to carve away at his flesh to remove all traces, but how would he be sure that the remover would not kill him immediately, or put another slave engraving on him?

Such was the nature of the black market – Makoa could not trust anyone to do a good job, even more so when money was involved. He had already tried stabbing and mutilating the engraving, but apparently, the engraving was deep in the flesh, making it hard to remove. Fuck, fuck, fuck this Yual dog!

“Answer.”

“Yes, yes the town has barely any food left. Whatever rations are coming in, the bulk of it goes to the wealthy people and restaurants. The rich people are stockpiling food to prepare for the eventual war.”

A natural crack in society – I can use this to my advantage. Kyle had already had experience using the homeless in Tenar to fight for his cause. However, he was slightly hoping that he could buy food from Desham instead, as his new base was lacking in self-sufficiency.

This meant that his plan would have to be flipped around. Food was the main critical resource here, and the more he had of it, the more he could attract people to work for him. I can first attract them with some Versian coins, but if they are not even allowed to buy enough food due to the rationing, then it will be of marginal use. No one could eat coins, so Kyle had to reconsider how he was going to establish a supply network.

“Where’s the black market?”

Makoa led him begrudgingly towards another part of the sprawling slums that snaked all along the edge of the walled Desham. They snuck about between makeshift wooden shelters and corrugated sheets of metals, avoiding the watchful gazes of soldiers patrolling onto of the walls who scoured for the ‘Big Versian Guy’

Makoa thought carefully about his relation with Kyle. So far, everytime I tried to fuck with him or get away from him has always ended up in a terrible state. If I want to survive, it might be better to stick with Kyle.

He wasn’t dumb: the war with Yual was all but assured, the effects already rampant as seen in this small insignificant town. I’ll earn his trust, then and the end of the war, I’m gone! I need to go somewhere far away, maybe even try my luck at the Great Waves or Proco.

As Kyle followed Makoa through the maze of the slum, the terrible conditions that people were living in made him even happier. It was though he had found an entire untapped deposit of gold, all for himself.

They soon reached the black market, though it was hardly apparent that they were in one. It looked exactly the same as the slums before and after them. If it wasn’t for the usual symbols and logos of the various organizations that had a branch here, it would be hard to tell otherwise.

Kyle spotted the same Nest logo as before, warning him that it was possible for him to be spotted again. He was surprised they even had a branch in such a small town like Desham. The rats are everywhere – is this some sort of franchising? Do they pay royalty just to get the name?

Makoa brought Kyle to a rickety shack, tapping on it with a clear pattern. The door swung open to reveal a fiesty young girl, armed to the teeth with two handguns and a repeater.

“Hands in the air before I fuck you right up.” The girl aimed the barrel of the repeater right at Makoa. “You got a lot of nerve riling up the entire town and then coming right to my fucking doorstep.”

“Then looks like I’ll take my Versian coins elsewhere and find the next best fixer in town.”

“WAIT WAIT! Okay, down payment ten thousand first.”

“Goodbye.” Kyle got up to leave, motioning to Makoa to follow. The girl glared at Makoa with an obvious expression, but Makoa simply just shrugged, before making a hand motion with his hand.

“Fine! No Down payment, I’ll get your materials in three days as well!”

“Tomorrow.”

“What?”

“I need the materials tomorrow.”

“Grr... fine!” The girl was fuming internally. If it wasn’t for the terrible state of the town and the slow businesses.

“Pleasure doing business then, Ms...?”

“Diya.”

With the deal set, Makoa followed Kyle back out into the black market. They walked till they reached a different portion of the slums, where there were people gathered around a groundwater well, waiting in line. “How are you going to get the food?” Makoa asked.

“The same way we always do. Why is a former sub-leader of the famed ‘Ilysian Punks’ asking me such an inane question?”

“Are you crazy? We have to lie low for a while!”

“It is exactly while you are still at large that we have to strike, while your fame is still notorious.”

Kyle grabbed a few coins from his sack, and suddenly tossed them out onto the street, the shimmering and clattering of metal against gravel causing everyone’s head to turn.

“The hero has returned – Makoa, chosen of Desham! He has plundered from the undeserving rich to give back to the people!” Kyle hollered, before covering his face with a hood ,leaving the utterly confused Makoa as the main person in plain view, standing amidst a sprinkle of Versian coins.

Those who were the nearest began to sprint and charge for the Versian coins, smacking each other and clawing them up. They scrambled around the feet of Makoa, noticing that he was holding a sack of coins in his hands too.

“Please, good sir, I need it for my family!”

“My children are starving, please!”

“Do not worry, the great Makoa is generous!” Kyle called out again, acting like Makoa’s servant.

“What the fuck are you planning?” Makoa whispered angrily to Kyle, but Kyle instead ignored him and reached his hand into the sack, grabbing more coins and flinging them further, spreading the crowd.

“Spread the word! The hero, Makoa of Desham, has returned to save the people!” Kyle hollered.

The frenzy lasted until nearly all the Versian coins had been wasted. Rumours began to spread like wildfire through the slums and even through the town, the name of Makoa resounding in the streets.

Naturally, the local soldiers caught wind of it and began to congregate on the slums, attempting to sniff out Makoa. However, the slums dwellers were more than willing to waste their time, distracting and obstructing them in anyway they could. The conflicts across the slum began to spread, as the soldiers had no choice but to force their way in, inadvertently beginning skirmishes with the locals.

Just when I thought I could survive under Kyle, he pulls this shit?! Makoa groaned as he hid with Kyle. “What is even the point of all of this! Are you trying to make the entire town your enemy?! You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“Who said anything about me being the enemy? It is not my name being chanted now, is it?”