Humanity's Greatest Mecha Warrior System-Novel



The route that Max's guide took him on led through the back passages of the ship, staying out of sight of the general population, but it was by no means empty.  ᴛhis chapter is ᴜpdated by (f)ir(e).nᴇt

There were a large number of stalls back here, selling all sorts of questionable items from many different systems. Even while reading the vendors' minds, Max couldn't determine what all of the devices did since he lacked some of the knowledge of the technical language that was necessary, but it seemed like this was the one-stop shop if you really needed ship parts and didn't like to be questioned. 

"Is there anything that the Reavers outright refuse to deal with?" The Valkia asked as they walked, and the assistants pointed out various rare items for sale. 

"Only sentient beings and a few highly damaging substances. We don't have a problem with most things, but some addictive substances will ruin an entire population without any upside, so we don't deal with them at all. It's just too low for us. 

The Companies also take in a lot of freed slaves, refugees, and other downtrodden sorts, so dealing in slaves ourselves would rightly cause a revolt among our crews. We don't always go out of our way to end such situations, but we will give a discount for that sort of mission as long as we can determine that it's not a scam trying to take out a competitor." Max explained. 

"That is good. If you are going to do business with a man, you need to know what his bottom line is. When you cross a man's bottom line, it should never be an accident. You can't explain away such a thing. It will lead to an eternal grudge. So, knowing the things that a man simply will not accept is paramount to a working relationship." The Valkia boss agreed. 

"What about you? What things won't the Black Market deal with?" 

"We do some sales of workers, but we have a standard for them. If they are mistreated beyond our codes, we will repossess them. It gives us a bad name if someone sees a worker we sold in bad shape or being treated too lowly. We also don't deal in planet killers. We will sell weapons to take out ships, but we don't sell weapons to take out cities and countries." 

That made sense, in a way. It might not be completely in line with the Reavers' code, but finding a perfect match was unlikely with such different cultures. 

"If you are dealing with Reavers in the future, a finders fee to get them a worker is acceptable and normal, but some of the captains will take it personally if you offer to sell them a bonded worker. As long as the worker is willing, they won't have many problems paying you a finders feel for them though." Max suggested. 

"Ah, so that is how it works. Free workers, not indentured. That makes many things clearer now. How do you deal with debts for training, then?" One of the assistants asked. 

"The same as any other debt. They either work it off or pay it off later if they leave. If a debt is owed to a Reaver Company and a worker switches, we collect from their new employer, and then they can pay it back at their new job." 

Max stopped then to admire a handheld plasma torch with a variety of settings, designed for industrial use but outlawed by the Alliance because of its unstable nature. 

"How much do you want for the torch? I collect these little curiosities of abandoned design." Max asked the merchant sitting on a rug in an alcove of the back hallway. 

"Five hundred grey credits, no less." The man demanded and moved to keep a close eye on his goods. 

"That's fair. You have a deal." Max agreed and transferred the credits to the man's wrist device without hesitation. 

Nico would love that oddball plasma projector. It wasn't like anything that Max had seen before, so it might give her team some inspiration when developing new technology, even if this version was inherently unstable. 

They walked along the corridors until they reached the end of a hallway and passed through a thick steel door with two armed guards on either side of it, making sure that nobody without clearance could come in or go out of that particular exit. 

eaglesnovɐ1,сoМ On the far side was an office with a large glass window that overlooked what seemed to be a stadium with an octagonal ring in the center for tournament fights. It was much larger than the ones that Max had seen for boxing matches, likely due to the expected sizes of the combatants, and there were a pair of scantily clad four-armed women and a short announcer with a prodigious beard standing in the middle of the floor. 

"Welcome everyone to the Friday Night Fights. As you know, this is the peak of our weekly rotation, where the best fighter of the night will challenge our reigning champion for a chance at ten thousand grey credits in prize money and the honour of being named King of the Ring. 

You have ten minutes left to arrange your bets, so I will go over the basics of the rules again for those who are new here or were too drunk to listen last time. First up, no weapons of any sort. Even claws must be either sheathed or trimmed. Secondly, no armour will be allowed during these tournaments. If you want to see that, come back for our monthly no holds barred matches that will start fifteen days from now. 

Finally, when the horn sounds, or the referee calls the fight, you stop. Any fighter that does not heed the referee will be dealt with by security. 

Now, if you're all ready to start the night's entertainment, we will begin our night's schedule with Gorlock the Destroyer versus Tiamat the Wonderful." 

Max chuckled at the stage names and burst into laughter when he saw the pictures that were put up. 

"They go all out for this, don't they? There is a type of wrestler in my home world that wears that sort of bright costume and mask. They're great entertainment." He asked the boss of the underground fighting arena. 

"It's a similar concept, but this is a bare-knuckle fight. Most of them end by knockout, but pinning your opponent and forcing them to tap out is also acceptable. These two are hybrids from the Giant species, and they are great showmen. They fight here at least once a month for the cash, and they always request to fight each other." The Valkia chuckled. 

So, it was most likely a staged fight, but that was no shock to Max. You couldn't expect an underground fighting ring to be completely honest and impartial. But as he scanned through the night's fights, he noticed that most of these fighters had never fought here before, so they likely weren't ringers, and they were here to actually compete for the money. 

"Would you like to be on the roster? I can bump one of my in-house fighters and get you a spot." The Valkia offered. 

"That sounds like a lot of fun. Pick whatever opponent you like. I don't need the money, but human soldiers like me are always up for a good fight." Max agreed with a smile. 

That was exactly what the Envoys had been hoping for, a chance to impress the locals with the strength of his species and gain some respect so that they would be easier to deal with in the future. He had likely done that with the Warp Crystals, but being known as great fighters couldn't hurt their reputation.