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Unbound Familiar

An avid gamer nerd's dreams come true in another brutal yet lucky? fashion. Follow him as he does his best not to die in laughably humiliating ways, all while trying to escape his abrupt and unwanted servitude. Will his knowledge of the world he finds himself help him succeed? Will he return home? Will evolve past his title of 'Dog'? Read and find out! This will be another multiversal world-hopping story, similar to my other one, EBW. I'll not spoil the surprise of the first world, but Skyrim will eventually be involved... And no, I'll not be adhering to plot, instead destroying it and hopefully not butchering the original story in the process. Feel free to join my Discord : https://discord.gg/EJxRKkwtDm Also, if you enjoy my stories, want to read ahead, and or support me. Take a look at my Patreon : https://www.p.atreon.com/Nagross Also, I've 'borrowed' the picture from : greenmapple17, on Deviant Art.

Niggross · ゲーム
レビュー数が足りません
713 Chs

Looking for trouble.

The teen perks up at his words, a small smile making its way onto his face, "Really? You'd do that?"

Michael nods, "Sure, just point me in the right direction and you won't have to deal with them ever again." he confidently states, puffing out his chest slightly.

"Oof!" he yelps as the teenager suddenly hugs him tightly... It's a bit awkward, receiving a hug from a stranger you barely know... Plus the fact that they're taller...

Michael just pats their back politely and waits for them to release him, "Hey, what's your name?" he asks, wanting to know who he'd be working with.

"Samara." the teen replies, shocking him.

"S-Samara? You're a girl!?" he exclaims a touch louder than he'd intended.

The girl releases the hug and turns her head away, a blush clearly visible under the dirt covering her face. "Y-yeah I'm a girl! Hmph! You even touched my breasts too! Pervert..." she whispers, but Michael overhears it.

"No I didn't!" he fumbles, an equally large blush appearing on his cheeks.

"Y-you did! When you sat on me..." he states, raising her crossed arms to cover her almost nonexistent chest.

...

Michael shakes his head, what is it with him and flat girls? First Louise and now this? Why couldn't someone like Kirche take an interest or something? He covers his face with a hand and tosses the two promised gold coins over at Samara, "Whatever... Tell me where I can find these gangs and I'll look into dealing with them."

With that, Samara begins a brief overview of the few gangs that inhabit the city. There were three main ones that controlled the slums and other smaller gangs.

The Balein gang controls the slums near the port, they are the richest of the three due to how easy it is for them to access port goods and antagonize traders, forcing them to pay a 'toll' if they aren't able to dock where the guards usually patrol. The only reason they haven't taken over the city yet is that the guards and local government are well aware of them, occasionally sending men into the slums to clear them out.

The Salhope gang, which controls the red light district of the city where all the brothels and other less reputable establishments sit. Apparently, they take a 'protection fee' from every business there, and since the guards don't particularly care for enforcing rules in the area, they have almost complete free roam. They have the second-largest amount of members out of the three gangs, making them a threat even to the city officials.

Last is D'argent, the gang that controls the area where Michael and Samara were currently standing. They control the largest part of the slums, and have the most members by far. Though, each member was ill-trained and more likely to rob one of their gang members than help out.

Unlike the other two gangs, they didn't really have any way to gain sustainable income, instead just taxing whatever Lateef's orphans managed to steal. Of course, they also engaged in robbery, kidnapping, murder, and all the other fun crimes you can think of.

Samara didn't know much about the former two gangs, but she knew that D'argent was run by a man called Marcel Patiot, otherwise known as 'Fingerloss' for his penchant on cutting off the digits of anyone that offends him or the gang. The severity of your 'perceived crimes' determines how many fingers you'd lose.

Disobeying Marcel? One digit. Getting caught by the guards? Two digits... Ratting out the gang to the government? Both hands... And then having a rock tied to your feet as you're tossed into the ocean.

Truthfully, listening to Samara describe the actions of the D'argent gang made him more and angry towards the government for letting them run free all this time. That, and he was beginning to feel pretty wary of actually fighting against them... If he got caught, he'd undoubtedly be tortured to death... He knew he wasn't exactly the most strong-willed, so he imagined he'd eventually squeal about Samara, leading her to her death as well.

As these thoughts invade his mind however, he grips the pommel of his sword and forces them away. Regardless if he was afraid or not, he still needed to do this. Not for the orphans, but for himself... He needed to get stronger to survive in this world.

With his resolve 'temporarily' affirmed. He gives Samara a small smile and leaves, making his way towards the area in which the D'argent gang are most prominent.

With his departure, Samara runs off, presumably back to the campfire where her meat was currently burning... Michael might've felt bad about that, if he hadn't just given her enough money to buy a couple whole cows...

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Thirty minutes of trekking through the alleyways lead Michael through cleaner portions of the area... He hadn't seen any gang members yet, but judging by the feeling of being followed, they'd be the ones coming to him.

Michael ends up wandering into a dead end, and four men step out from where he'd entered from, blocking his exit as they draw their respective weapons. One short sword, two clubs, and one dagger, Michael mentally notes as he quickly picks out the weaker-looking ones.

"You must've terribly misstepped to end up here, boy... Who'd you belong to? The merchant? Finger? Or, are you just lost?" the man wielding a son asks.

Michael taps the pommel of his sword as he closes his eyes and composes himself, stilling the slight tremors in his body as he settles his breathing.

"Oi! You deaf or somethin'? Speak up or I'll crack your skull, you little shit!"

"Chill out Louis, this cunt must be mad or somethin'." the man wielding the sword states, causing Michael's brow to twitch.

"Cunt? You just call me a cunt?" he asks, the faces of the people who used to bully him overlapping with the men's faces.

Hope you bois liked the chap, if I missed anything please let me know. Thanks!

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