The Crack In Heaven [A LitRPG Progression Fantasy] Chapter 30: Chapter 30: Coal's About to Blast

Read chapter 30 of The Crack In Heaven [A LitRPG Progression Fantasy] by Adamus_Auguste on NovelPedia.

Chapter 30: Coal's About to Blast Kael gestured to Tonio inside their new shelter, not the one he had wanted, but better than he had expected. The rat-man leapt down the junk walls in the shade of the blankets he had just finished stretching over them. "Good job." He tapped Tonio's puffed-up chest with one hand. The other closed around relic 78's dark frame and slid it off Tonio's face. "We've dealt with cold and unwanted attention, at least decently enough." His gaze lingered on the cold ashes in the pit, on the gaps where wind crept through the walls, and on the space that could welcome a warm hearth. In dreams, perhaps. He slid the round glasses against his nose and walked to the cloth hanging in the doorway. "But we're not halfway done if we want to survive on more than the rat meat you keep harping on. I'll find water and bread. In the meantime, listen to Els so you can become good friends." Behind him, Tonio tilted his head at Els. She crossed her arms, one eyebrow raised at his now unveiled features. Then, she observed the relic's mist twist Kael. No matter how she dissected his features, he looked like someone else. Taller, broader, with a scar slicing across his left cheek. Kael didn't wait for her question. He pushed through the cloth and into the beggar streets. Supply came first, but knowledge wasn't far behind. He didn't linger in any one spot for too long; his ears always perked up to catch the slightest useful information. In front of the fake well, a woman in a tight dress, made too broad by her skinny limbs, whispered to another. "Heard what they say? The three gangs are gathering, and coal's about to blast." The other woman nodded her soot-stained face rapidly. "Lord Garrick sent his men to the edge of our streets. Everyone heard them an hour ago. Silver for betrayal, they said, and even more for the brilliant ones. Coal's about to blast, Lydia, blast into war. I only hope they'll keep it away from us. Like they always have." Kael kept his place in the queue, but his foot began to tap. An hour. Garrick's men had been here while he settled. Silver for betrayal. Betraying who? A war... The other gangs? Thin out their ranks with silver. Viciously effective. Silver buys heart. But some resist its shine like Tonio's brothers. Garrick will borrow their friends' blades to strike them as he did with Tonio's brothers twenty years ago. Giovanni and Riccardo's deformed faces flashed in his mind. Some relationships were more expensive than money and heavier than blood. Could he foster one, too? A bond where he wouldn't need to hide, to measure each word? Have someone like his mom... Perhaps. It was just... hard. The ledger was too precious. It took a venomous voice to pull him out of his thoughts. "Get lost if ya're not buying!" A man tapped a ladle in his palm, then pointed it at Kael. Lydia and her friend walked away, a canteen smaller than their palms clutched against their chests. Shaking his head, Kael stepped forward. "How much?" The man flung his long scarf over his shoulder. The hand holding the ladle pressed against his hip. "How much ya want?" "Hum. Same as the two before me?" Kael's eyes trailed to canteens ranging in size from a kid's hand to as big as his forearm. "Can you tell me how much the others are worth? For future purchases, I mean." "Two coppers for the small. Three for the medium. Five for the large." The man bent over the fake well, ladle scooping water. But Kael didn't answer. He couldn't. Instead, his eyes widened. Two copper crowns?! Even in Ashcoil Row, they sold twice as much at half price. It was bleeding the desperate. But he was in the beggar streets... Would a loaf of bread cost a silver then? "Ya're wasting my time!" At the man's call, Kael walked out of the queue. "I'll return later. Thank you for telling me." The vendor snorted, but he was already gone, threading to the bakery. Scents of wood chips eclipsed that of flour. Bloated loaves stood on racks, dense as iron blocks, grey like f