chapter 18 The Risky Quest forResources

The flickering neon signs of the black market cast an eerie glow on the grimy alleyways.

 Alice took a deep breath, the air thick with the scent of burnt oil and something indefinably…illegal.

This was it.

Their Hail Mary.

 The academy's official channels were choked by red tape and Mr.

Thompson's blatant favoritism towards Sasha's team.

 If they wanted a fighting chance, they needed to go off-grid.

"Stay close," Alice murmured, her voice low and tight.

 Her hand instinctively went to the small, but potent, medical kit strapped to her thigh – a comfort in this den of shadows.

Ryan gulped, his eyes darting nervously between the shrouded figures lurking in the dimly lit stalls.

 Even the wares on display seemed…questionable.

 Modified weaponry hummed with barely contained energy, and vials filled with glowing liquids promised dubious enhancements.

 "This place is straight-up sketch, Alice. Are you sure about this?"

"We don't have a choice, Ryan," she replied, her gaze sweeping the area.

 She wasn't sure at all, but projecting confidence was crucial.

Fake it till you make it, right?

The other team members, equally unnerved, huddled close, their footsteps echoing eerily in the confined space.

The black market felt alive, breathing down their necks.

A low hum of hushed conversations and clandestine deals filled the air, punctuated by the occasional burst of raucous laughter that sent shivers down their spines.

As they navigated the labyrinthine corridors, they felt eyes on them.

 Not just curious glances, but something colder, more calculating.

Three hulking figures, faces obscured by hoods and shadows, detached themselves from the gloom and began to follow.

 Their movements were deliberate, predatory.

Alice's pulse quickened.

 She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck prickling.

"We're being followed," she whispered, her hand tightening on her medical kit.

 She exchanged a worried glance with the others.

There was nowhere to run, the narrow passageway trapping them between the stalls and the approaching figures.

Ryan whimpered, his face pale.

 The bravado he usually displayed had evaporated, replaced by stark terror.

He stumbled, nearly tripping over a loose cable.

"What do we do, Alice?" he stammered, his voice barely a whisper.

The looming figures closed in, their shadows stretching long and menacing in the flickering neon light.

One of them, taller than the rest, let out a low growl that sent chills down their spines.

He reached out a hand, his fingers long and gnarled, towards Alice.

 "Well, well," he rasped, a cruel smile twisting his lips.

"What do we have here?

"

"I...I…" Ryan stammered, shrinking back against Alice.

The tall figure's words hung in the air, thick with malice.

Before Alice could react, a chorus of whispers erupted around them.

"Look, it's Alice's team!" a voice hissed.

"Heard they're desperate enough to crawl through the gutters." Sasha's dirty tricks were already in motion, poison spreading faster than a Twitch ban.

"They're probably here to steal," another voice sneered.

"Wouldn't trust 'em with a rusty spork." The black market, already a cesspool of distrust, turned against them like a rabid Reddit thread.

Every eye felt like a physical blow, each hushed word a shard of ice piercing their resolve.

Ryan whimpered, shrinking further behind Alice.

The others shifted nervously, their faces mirroring his distress.

The injustice of it all burned in Alice's chest, a supernova of frustration threatening to erupt.

They were here, risking their necks, for the team, and this was the thanks they got?

"Enough," Alice snapped, her voice cutting through the murmurs like a katana through butter.

She glared at the looming figure, then swept her gaze across the crowd.

"We're here for business, just like everyone else. So back off."

The tall figure chuckled, a sound like nails on a chalkboard.

"Business, huh? I hear the only business you're good at is begging." He stepped closer, and Alice could smell the cheap synth-ale on his breath.

"But maybe…maybe we can make a deal."

He gestured towards a dimly lit stall, tucked away in the deepest part of the market.

"Old Man Tiberius has what you need. But he doesn't give handouts."

Alice knew Tiberius.

A legend in the black market, a gatekeeper of rare resources, and a notorious hardass.

"What's the catch?" she asked, already dreading the answer.

"Let's just say," the figure grinned, "he has…certain requirements." He leaned in close, whispering something vile in Alice's ear.

Alice recoiled, her face twisting in disgust.

The price was too high, far too high.

But the academy, the competition…everything was on the line.

"Tick-tock, princess," the figure sneered, his smile widening.

"Tiberius doesn't wait forever. And there are plenty of other teams who'd kill for what he's got." The crowd murmured in agreement, their eyes hungry with anticipation.

Ryan tugged at Alice's sleeve, his face pale.

The other team members watched her, their hopes and fears etched on their faces.

The oppressive atmosphere of the black market seemed to close in, suffocating her.

Alice closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and made her decision.

"Alright," she said, her voice trembling slightly.

"Take me to Tiberius." She paused, then asked the looming figure, "What's your name?"

"People call me...Fixer," the figure responded, his cruel smile not changing a bit.

The tall figure leaned closer, his breath hot and foul against Alice's ear.

"Looks like we've got ourselves some fresh meat..."

Alice refused to flinch.

Fear was a luxury she couldn't afford.

Her eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned their attackers.

Three thugs, yes, but poorly equipped, relying more on intimidation than skill.

Still, three against… what?

Ryan was practically useless at this point, and the others were clearly rattled.

"We're just looking for supplies," Alice said, her voice steady despite the adrenaline surging through her veins.

"We don't want any trouble."

The tall thug barked out a laugh, the sound grating and unpleasant.

"Trouble finds *you*, sweetheart. Especially when you're poking around where you don't belong." He gestured towards the others.

"Search them."

Before the other thugs could react, a blur of motion erupted from the shadows.

A figure slammed into the lead thug, knocking him off balance.

The air crackled with energy as a fist connected with a jaw.

The tall thug staggered back, momentarily stunned.

Ethan.

He moved with a controlled ferocity Alice had only glimpsed before.

Gone was the charming, slightly aloof CEO.

In his place stood a warrior, his eyes cold and focused, his body a weapon.

He didn't say a word, didn't waste a breath on threats.

He simply *moved*, dismantling the thugs with brutal efficiency.

One thug fumbled for a weapon, a crude energy pistol, but Ethan disarmed him with a swift kick, sending the weapon skittering across the grimy floor.

The other thug hesitated, clearly reassessing the situation.

Alice didn't waste the opportunity.

She shoved Ryan behind her and stepped forward, her hand flashing out to deliver a precise pressure point strike to the thug's neck.

He crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Years of medical training, honed with a ruthless understanding of human anatomy, were paying off.

Ethan finished off the lead thug with a final, devastating blow.

The man groaned and collapsed, his face a mess of bruises.

Silence descended on the alleyway, broken only by the ragged breaths of Alice and Ethan.

Ryan peeked out from behind Alice, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and awe.

Ethan turned to Alice, his expression unreadable.

"You okay?"

"Fine," Alice replied, her voice still a little shaky.

"Thanks."

He nodded curtly, his gaze sweeping the alleyway, ensuring no other threats remained.

"This place is more dangerous than I thought. We need to get what we need and get out."

His protectiveness, so subtly displayed, sent a warmth spreading through Alice.

She pushed it aside.

There was no time for distractions.

They were still in the heart of the black market, still vulnerable.

"Let's move," she said, her voice regaining its strength.

"We're wasting time."

They pressed on, the encounter having shifted the atmosphere.

Fear had been replaced by a grim determination.

They moved with purpose, their eyes scanning the stalls, their hands hovering near their defenses.

Finally, they found what they were looking for: a hidden stall tucked away in a darkened corner.

The vendor, a wiry old woman with eyes that seemed to hold the secrets of the universe, beckoned them closer.

"Looking for something special, are we?" she rasped, her voice like gravel.

Alice nodded.

"We need power cells. High-grade."

The old woman's lips stretched into a knowing smile.

"High-grade comes at a price. And in this market, the price is always higher than you expect."

Before Alice could answer, a voice cut through the air.

"Well, well, what have we here? Looks like our little scavengers have finally found something worth stealing."

Sasha stood at the entrance to the alleyway, her eyes glinting with malice.

She was flanked by her own team, their faces smug and confident.

"Looks like your little bodyguard routine is over, Alice. Time to hand over the goods."

Alice's jaw tightened.

This wasn't just about resources anymore.

This was about proving who was stronger, who was more ruthless.

"You want these cells, Sasha?" Alice said, her voice dangerously low.

"Come and get them."