City of Fallen Souls: A LitRPG Adventure (UnderVerse Book 3) Jez Cajiao (best color ebook reader txt) 📖

crossing a few more streets and passing down a third to emerge into a slightly nicer area.

The buildings were still built up against one another, but here in the Industrial Quarter, they looked grimy and dull, coated with who knew what, and the gutters were coated with a residue of unidentifiable chemicals and crap. Strangely, the first thing I smelled that wasn’t offensive was a stand offering baked goods.

I passed it, still following Gaion, who’d slowed to a walk now, while my nose searched for scents I could identify.

I suddenly realized it’d been forever since I’d had a pizza, and with that thought, I couldn’t help but imagine a thick layer of cheese, ham, pineapple, and pepperoni topping a slice. Some people hated pineapple on pizza, I knew that, but hey, some people believed that gingers had souls, and that was just crazy talk.

I swallowed my drool and went on, passing dozens of shops with stands outside. Ribbons and swords stood next to armor that glinted in the sunlight filtering down through the clouds, smoke, and Airships that hovered over the city.

We passed a striped pole, and through the open door, I could see a barber trimming someone’s hair. I nodded to myself. I needed that, and damn soon. We passed tailors and apothecaries, shops selling bags and occasional stands selling fruit and food. I passed a building that I swear was full of minotaur’s, all arguing over leather harnesses and nose rings.

I shook my head, following Gaion and trying not to be a complete tourist as I gawked at the city around me.

My toe suddenly caught on a raised cobble, and I almost fell. Lydia caught my arm, and I grinned ruefully at her as she smiled back.

“Sorry,” I muttered, shaking my head. “This city, it’s just so different to those I grew up in.”

“Really?” she asked, seeming far less impressed than I was, and I looked a little closer.

I looked past the food carts, watching the vendors hawking their goods to passersby but ignoring the thousand-yard stare of the woman half-sprawled against the wall nearby, the infant clutched to her breast staring around hollow-eyed. I looked at her, seeing the hopeless gaze, the lack of any motivation, as the child snuffled. I saw the predatory looks of the man leaning against the mouth of the alley nearby.

I heard the laughter floating on the breeze, as a pair of women, dressed like they’d stepped out of Victorian times, chatted gaily about where they’d have afternoon tea, while a child no older than seven or eight stumbled along carrying a case, with a gold collar and chain that led from his neck to the belt of one of the women.

I saw a female slave following another pair of women who were chattering animatedly about the ribbons and bows on a table. The stoic look on her face seemed a permanent expression as she stood silently, loaded up with the bags of her ‘betters’. I saw the collar around her neck, glowing malevolently, and a matching ring on one of the women’s fingers. A person turned into a possession, with a pretty badge of ownership around her neck that would punish her if her ‘owner’ so desired.

I saw the starving and the destitute, the pretty and the poised. I saw thugs lurking in the alleys, and guards that walked past a small child that sobbed, desperately looking for a parent and ignored by everyone except the flesh peddler that was stalking forward, forcing a smile onto his florid face.

“No,” I snarled, coming to a halt, my people swirling around me in confusion as they tried to see what has attracted my attention and my ire.

“Lydia, that child,” I said, gesturing to the sobbing little girl. “Yen. The woman.” I  nodded toward the woman slumped against the wall.

Lydia didn’t hesitate, knowing me too well. She was off ,stalking forward, dressed in a mix of full armor and Drow gear. Her shield covered her left arm, and her mace was clutched tightly in her right fist as she covered the distance in record time, stepping between the flesh peddler and his planned victim. His face went white and he smiled fearfully at her, spreading his hands in apology and backing away quickly. The little girl never even saw the exchange.

Yen looked from me to the woman, pausing, then realized what I wanted and moved forward. She slipped through the crowds; her Legion attire had thankfully been left back at the arena, as Tang began to draw suspicious glares. People had begun spotting his unmarked, but still distinct, Legion-style gear. Adding to that the haircut and the rigid stance, and he just screamed Legion.

Yen moved to the woman, crouching and speaking softly to her before helping her to stand and leading her to join our group.

Lydia was crouched next to the girl, helm pushed back, as she spoke to her in quiet, calm tones. “What are you doing?” Gaion hissed at me. “We’re drawing attention!”

“I’m helping people. The damn healer can wait if she has to!” I glared at him, slowly walking forward to kneel next to the small girl. She was young, a toddler, really. A short, scuffed dress covered her to her knees, which were as skinned and scabbed as her dress was frayed. Her face was filthy, with lines cut through the grime by rivulets of tears.

“Where are your parents?” I asked her quietly, ignoring the hustle and bustle of the market and the shops around us.

“Momma’s gone!” she bawled, and I looked to Lydia questioningly.

“She said her mother went to sleep and didn’t wake up. Now she’s on the streets, looking for somewhere to stay.”

“Well, fuck,” I muttered, holding out a hand to the little girl. “I’m Jax. What’s your name, little one?” She shied back, uncertain of me. I snorted, feeling the sad smile that came to my face. It was ironic, considering the mass of steel that covered Lydia, and yet I was the one the girl was