Chapter 700. Evaporating Spear (1/2)
Countless black markets and closed societies existed in the galaxy. Some opened their doors to anyone that entered. The physical black markets at the Harkensen and Mancroft star systems served as iconic examples in the Komodo Star Sector.
Their barrier for entry was so low that practically any random seven-year old could jump over the fence. To call them black markets besmirched the reputation of all other black markets.
”They're more like the light version of black markets.”
Due to their open nature and wide reach, a lot of paupers and poorly-connected power players tended to frequent these markets. This meant that while there would be a lot of customers for sellers to rip off, they weren't all that well-moneyed.
In order for a buyer to get the good stuff, they needed to veer to a more exclusive black market. One which matched buyers and sellers with more discerning standards, and one which could provide much more security and guarantees than a market stall in some dingy market stall at a murky space station where anyone could get shot at for no reason at all.
Ves already experienced the benefits of a higher class of trading platform at the Clifford Society. Its virtual and physical marketplaces were basically highly dignified black markets. Ves could obtain a number of exclusive goods and services that would have landed the providers in trouble if they offered them up to the open market.
Naturally, buyers needed to be somewhat trustworthy and possess enough wealth to make up the demand side of the black markets. The entry requirements to a rim-wide black market should have been quite stringent, but somehow the Soulless Priest judged that Ves possessed the qualifications to make a play at the invitation.
”I'll just have to win this design duel, because that's what the Redemption Duel effectively amounts to. There's no free lunch in the galaxy.” Ves whispered to himself as he beheld the Evaporating Spear that stood before him.
The old, rusted frame of the mech looked rather pithy, and Ves knew it would take a lot of work and ingenuity to get it up and running with a modicum of battle effectiveness.
Though the Redemption Duel ostenible centered around a duel to the death between two mech pilots that fought while enduring unimaginable torture, Ves largely disregarded their story and their skill level.
As long as mech pilots were somewhat competent and similar to each other, the outcome of the Redemption Duel depended more on the mech designer than anyone else.
That was because the tampered neural interfaces threw all of the rules out of the window!
Ves stared at the depressed-looking figure sitting slumped at a pile of crates fashioned into a makeshift chair. Acolyte Gien presented a sorry figure with his worn-out pilot suit and his torn and half-broken robes. He was by far the most pathetic worshipper of Haatumak that Ves had encountered so far.
Gien exhibited a nihilistic attitude to his upcoming duel.
To be frank, Ves would be bummed out as well if he found out he'd be put inside a cockpit that wanted to make him taste the feeling of hell while being pushed out into space and be expected to fight for his life while his very nerves and brains burned from all of the overstimulation of signals.
He could not even see the point of winning. What would the acolyte gain from that when he'd be brain dead anyway?
”Don't underestimate our ability to restore the winner of the duel to life.” Acolyte Villis responded when Ves puzzled over that question. The old woman continued to follow close to his heels for some reason. ”The Redemption Duel is an arduous trial that will test their worthiness in the eyes of Haatumak. Those that perish deserve to perish. Those that survive are deserving of Haatumak's Mercy.”
”And what does Haatumak's Mercy entail?” Ves asked, curious of what they would do to restore a braindead mech pilot back to a semblance of life.
”Haatumak's Mercy is a ritual of rebirth. Whoever shall win will be ordained as our newest Living Altar!”
Ves blinked. He could argue that transitioning from a living vegetable to a Living Altar was a punishment rather than a reward. Cannibalism wasn't so bad if you got to live again and received a free pass from your god!
He didn't even ask what kind of freak medical procedure the Church of Haatumak mastered to restore a burnt-out mech pilot back to a semblance of life. As far as Ves knew, almost every case of neural interface-induced overload onto a mech pilot's nerves resulted in catastrophic and irreparable damage!
He had a feeling the answer might upset him even more.
”Ignorance is bliss.”
Practically every aspect involving this band of crazy fanatics drove him mad. Ves completely believed the decision to banish them from civilized space was justified. In fact, they should have gone a step further and send a CFA battleship to wipe out the Temple and all of its traces for good!
Then again, these bunch of crazies didn't mistreat their guests too badly and even dangled a carrot in front of his face.
Ves suspected this might be the only opportunity in his life to be offered an invitation to the Angel's Wing Foundation. In order to save his life from a dormant threat buried inside his chest, perhaps the crazy researchers of the Five Scrolls Compact may be his only hope for salvation!
His very life was at stake in this challenge!
”Win or lose, it is not only my pride that's at stake here!”
His motivation to win had skyrocketed!
Yet that was not enough to insure a win at the upcoming Redemption Duel.
He needed to get to work.
Ves looked around and ignored the condemned pilot for now. Rather than wracking his brains over his bum of a mech pilot, he'd rather start tooling with something he possessed an ample amount of familiarity.