The Guardian of the Verge (The Range Book #3): LitRPG Series, page 1
The Guardian of the Verge
a novel
by Yuri Ulengov
The Range
Book#3
Magic Dome Books
The Range
Book #3: The Guardian of the Verge
Copyright © Yuri Ulengov 2021
English translation copyright © Ksenia Akulova 2021
Cover Art © Ivan Khivrenko 2021
Art Designer Vladimir Manyukhin
Published by Magic Dome Books, 2021
All Rights Reserved
ISBN: 978-80-7619-327-7
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is entirely a work of fiction. Any correlation with real people or events is coincidental.
New and upcoming releases from
Magic Dome Books!
If you like our books and want to keep reading, download our FREE Publisher's Catalog, a must-read for any LitRPG fan which lists some of the finest works in the genre:
Tales of Wonder and Adventure: The Best of LitRPG, Fantasy and Sci-Fi (Publisher's Catalog)
Table of Contents:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
About the Author
Chapter 1
Orion System
Rhapsody’s orbit, NewVision Corporation administrative station
MILLER HAD BEEN in a terrible mood all morning. First of all, his department was completely swamped with work. Season 12 of the regular event, “The Guardian of the Verge” tournament — Barker’s brainchild, of which he was incredibly proud — was about to start. The game director had come up with a bunch of new features for the new season and now the entire team was working their asses off to get everything done in time.
On top of that, Barker had called a meeting just as Miller was about to watch the massacre of his boss’s freaking champ live. He hadn’t even had a chance to see the recording yet, which made him very angry. And he still had to figure out a new supply chain to handle the Orange Zone. With Limbo, it was easier: packages with A-stims disguised as water and food deliveries were dropped off in the area controlled by Sculptor. Other units in this area were terrified of Sculptor so his people would just pick up the supplies and deliver them to the base. Everything worked like clockwork. The Verge was a different thing, though.
Clans couldn’t count on handouts. Their fighters had to get everything they needed on their own. At the warehouse where deliveries for humanitarian drones were put together, Steve had a guy who, for a certain amount of credits, would add whatever he asked to be added to the package. But he still had to find someone like that at the store’s warehouse.
The problem was that the people Miller worked for didn’t care about that. They only cared about the money Steve would wire to an anonymous cryptocurrency wallet after keeping a certain percentage for himself — quite a considerable percentage actually, even for the Corporation’s top manager. But it wasn’t the interruption to the flow of money to his account Miller was worried about; much more unnerving were the messages in secure messenger, in which a kingpin located many light years away was asking why the next wire hadn’t arrived on the due date. The kingpin didn’t care about the deceased Sculptor, the complications with sending a new shipment to the Verge, and the damned three-three-two-eight-six who had destroyed a supply chain that had been operating smoothly for months.
Long story short, Miller had been tossing and turning all night, looking through the Range employees’ personal files on his tablet and trying to find the right guy for the job. He had gotten the files from Caroline, the senior HR manager, and had yet to work them off. And while he could have only dreamed of such a trade off before he got to know the freaking black-haired sex fiend, his opinion changed drastically since he’d first slept in her bed. Looking at the sophisticated, graceful beauty, you’d never even think that her sexual tastes were...let’s just say very specific. But he needed her and so he had to suffer through, drowning his misery in whiskey and topping it off with the much-hated THC-Ultra.
He finally found a guy that he thought would be a good match, but there was no time left to rest. Sighing heavily, Steve got up, took a shower, downed a couple of energy drinks and headed to the office. Sitting in front of his monitor, he was trying to read a document sent by a staff member to him for approval. Suddenly, his tablet vibrated and started blinking, signaling an incoming call.
Looking at the screen and realizing that the caller was unknown, Miller cursed through his teeth and headed to the nearest conference room available. An unknown caller could only mean one thing: the call was coming from Rhapsody. Which is why he could only take it if there was no one around.
He locked the door behind him, sat down in a chair and launched an encryption program that altered his voice and displayed a computer-generated avatar in lieu of his face. Only then did he answer the call.
It was Sly. Based on the background, the leader of the Grave Ravens was at his fort’s command post, which meant that the A-stims seized from Sculptor’s warehouse had already been transported to the Orange Zone.
“I did it,” Sly said without even saying hello. “Altai’s dead. When’s the delivery?”
Miller felt the tension that had built up over night slowly subside. Good news! Finally! The goddamn show-off, Barker’s freaking champ, is dead! It was probably the best news he’d heard in days. Oh, Tom’s gonna hate it! This is definitely worth celebrating! Miller’s gonna insist Barker give him the thousand credits he just won from their bet in paper form so that he can roll up the bill and snort a line or two of good ol’ coke off of Caroline’s flat belly. Then he’ll go so rough on that bitch that she won’t be able to walk for a week straight... As it turns out, today’s not such a bad day after all!
“Show me his head,” Miller said, barely able to contain his excitement. Fortunately, the program hid all the emotions.
“Well, here’s the thing...” Sly hesitated, looking away from the camera.
“What is it? Did you mess him up so badly that he can’t be identified? Then you’ll have to send me his DNA for analysis,” Miller said, tensing up again. “Don’t even think you can screw me over by slipping me some beat up, dead hobo instead of three-three-two-eight-six!”
“I’m not trying to screw anyone over,” Sly muttered grimly. “We can’t get to the body. The bastard got trapped in an abandoned mine on the outskirts of the Verge. My men died. The entire team. And then the freaking morphs ate their bodies. Your task cost me ten great fighters!”
“I guess they weren’t that great then!” Miller was starting to get pissed. “Your worthless fighters couldn’t handle one moron! I basically did everything for you! I gave you the coordinates, faked the data on xenoactivity and even shut down the freaking connection in the sector! And you still blew the mission! You know, I’m starting to think that maybe you’re not good enough — ”
“Five. There were five morons,” Sly interrupted Miller, barely holding back his anger. “My guys did the best they could. They sacrificed their lives to kill that bastard. Here’s the proof.”
With those words Sly moved slightly aside. Miller saw a large video panel behind him, with a video playing on it. For a few seconds, he watched the massacre that had taken place in an abandoned industrial zone through the eyes of one of Sly’s fighters. The scene ended with a grenade fired from a rocket-propelled grenade launcher hitting the roof of the adit where three-three-two-eight-six and two other units had disappeared into and causing it to collapse. Miller cursed and nearly smashed his tablet on the table.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” Steve hissed, leaning closer to the screen. “You really think I’m gonna believe this shit? Where’s the proof that this son of a bitch is dead? Where? I’m asking you!” Now he really wished the encryptor could convey emotions. “I didn’t see you cut off that prick’s head! Where’s the guarantee that he’s not gonna get out of this hole through some other hole? Can you guarantee that?”
“I can,” Sly replied gloomily. “A few hours later, there was an underground explosion in the area. Part of the terrain collapsed. The mine was completely destroyed. It’s buried under tens of thousands of tons of soil and rock. No one could have survived there. I’m positive.”
“And you don’t think he blasted it himself, trying to get to the surface?” Miller suddenly calmed down, realizing that there would be no triumph over Barker, no coke off of Caroline’s body...nothing. “No. That’s not gonna work. You won’t get your reward until you show me his head. Do you understand me?”
“I do,” Sly nodded sullenly.
“Good.”
Miller pondered frantically. On the one hand, Sly was on the hook: no body, no drugs. On the other hand, though... There were angry messages in the secure channel, and the one who was sending them didn’t care about Miller’s problems. If he continued to delay the delivery, he’d have to pull the money out of his personal account again. And there wasn’t much in there at the moment. Maybe it was time to renegotiate the terms of the deal.
Miller finally made up his mind.
“Fine. This is what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna send you a new batch. But until I see the bastard’s severed head, you’ll have to wire me the full cost of the goods. If you pull it off, you get your percentage and your bonus. If you don’t... Well, Rhapsody’s big. I can find someone else. Someone better.”
Sly stared at Miller for a moment. He clearly wasn’t happy with the new terms... But he didn’t have a choice. The leader of the Grave Ravens winced and nodded.
“Fine.”
“Great. Now let’s get down to business. I have the goods but there’s a problem with the delivery. I’ll need a few days to figure it out...”
“What’s the problem?” Sly looked at the manager blankly. “The plan’s the same. Sculptor’s base is under my control now. I’ll figure out how to deliver the goods to the Verge.”
Miller could hardly keep from smacking himself in the face. Motherf...! What the hell is wrong with him? Why didn’t he think of that before? It’s a no-brainer! The last time they spoke, Sly was sitting in Sculptor’s office! He really needs to get some sleep. He can’t even think straight anymore.
Cursing through his teeth, Miller reached for the fridge, grabbed an energy drink and put the can against the back of his head. The cold metal felt good against his skin. The terrible, splitting headache that had been torturing him all morning was starting to slowly dissipate.
He exhaled and said, “Okay. You can expect the delivery in the next few days. I’ll let you know.”
The cyborg nodded.
“And get me that bastard!”
Miller hung up and leaned back in his chair, breathing heavily. Crap! That son of a bitch got away again! Admitted, Miller only had himself to blame for that. After all, it was his plan. But he was really hoping the morphs would destroy the bastard and he wouldn’t even have to use Sly and his men. And then Barker wouldn’t even know about it. Now though... What if Tom found out about what had happened, got pissed about his favorite champ being killed and decided to destroy the entire Grave Ravens clan? Miller needed them. According to the system, the pack of morphs hiding in the industrial zone was so big that it’d take a much larger force than the five-man squad sent by Sanders to have it eliminated.
Miller just didn’t believe the cunning planetary assault trooper was dead. There was a reason Barker had picked him in the first place. The game director had always been an excellent judge of character. Most likely, that bastard blasted the mine himself... For what, though? Who the hell knows. Before making any assumptions, he needed to see for himself what had happened there. He also needed to check the system for three-three-two-eight-six’s marker. If the bastard managed to get out of the mine, the system would detect him and track him down. And hopefully, this time Sly won’t fail. He’s not an imbecile after all! He’ll take care of Altai and things will finally get back to normal.
First things first, though. Right now, Miller needs to figure out how to get A-stims to Rhapsody. To hell with this Altai guy! The main thing is to resume deliveries and then he won’t have to make excuses to anyone anymore. That’s it! He’ll dip into his own savings for this deal and send the required amount. And then he’ll get his money back once Sly sells the first batch.
Miller opened the energy drink, took a few sips and tossed the can into the recycler. Sleep... That’s all he needs now. Everything’s gonna be fine.
* * *
Earth Federation, Orion System
Rhapsody, the Orange Zone, a.k.a. the Verge
Inferno border. Shadows Clan outpost
Breathing heavily and stripped down to his waist, Razer burst into his room, pulled off his pants and underwear and headed for the shower. Strong jets hit his overheated body, causing him to moan in pleasure. His strained muscles were aching after a strenuous workout but he didn’t mind. Having quickly washed himself, he activated a preset program and just stood there under the steady stream with his head down for a couple of minutes, resting his hands on the wall. Feeling energized, Razer turned off the water, grabbed a towel and got out of the shower.
He dried himself, threw the towel into the dryer and paused in front of the mirror, examining his body critically: not an ounce of fat, the rippling musculature of an athlete, and, most importantly, not a single augmentation that was visible. Razer really liked his body and genuinely couldn’t understand why the locals would want to disfigure themselves with some junk. He had nothing against the modifications though. On the contrary, even the elite special forces fighters with whom he once had a chance to work would probably be jealous of the amount and the quality of the implants he had installed. But they were all hidden inside. To display them on the outside... No, that was just ugly.
He took fresh clothes out of a box, put on his pants and walked over to the food synthesizer. A protein shake was already waiting for him. Razer took a sip from the tall glass and leaned back in a chair with a sigh of delight.
Daily workouts had been part of his life since he was a child. Healthy body, healthy mind, as they say. Even modified muscles need training if you don’t want your body to let you down at the most inopportune moment. The implants are nice, of course, but they can be hacked or shut down by an electromagnetic pulse, and then you’ll have to fight with what’s left. And for that, you need to be able to counter any possible threat without the implants.
Razer remembered how much effort it took him to get that simple thought into the heads of his men and chuckled. But now, he’s probably got the most efficient clan in this part of the Range, even though it was significantly smaller compared to the other local clans. Hand-to-hand combat, general physical training, tactical exercises — the schedules of Razer’s fighters were full every day. Drugs, booze, whores — all that was only allowed on rare days off in Elysium. The Verge and Inferno were for work and work only — for the good of the clan and their own.
When Razer had first arrived at the Range, he was amazed at how weak and soft its inhabitants were. What was portrayed as a nightmarish prison where the doomed were in a constant struggle for survival turned out to be no more dangerous than a sandbox at a children’s’ playground. He completed initiation within a day of arriving, and three days later he already had a pass to Elysium. However, he stayed in Limbo for another week, saving up credits and experience. When he finally came to the Green Zone, he had enough savings for a set of top-end modifications. The murderers, rapists and other riffraff who were getting at each other’s throats in the Gray Zone were no match for the trained planetary assault trooper who had survived in the crucible of the war with the Xenos.
