Road to Mastery: A LitRPG Apocalypse

“Henry White! Get the fuck out here!” Jack roared from the hotel roof, sending his voice throughout the town. Thanks to his enhanced body, his shout was even louder than usual.

The people below froze. They looked around, then up to find a menacing figure standing over them. Some whispered. Others averted their gaze; the afternoon sun shone behind Jack, hiding his form.

The dark-skinned man at the center of the yard stood up. “I am Henry White,” he declared evenly. “Who might you be?”

“Vengeance.”

Henry frowned. “You are not a scion.”

Jack paused. “A scion of what?”

“Hah!” Suddenly, Henry laughed out loud. “Fuck off, vigilante, before my men fill you with lead. I’ll give you a ten second headstart.”

“Sure.” Jack smiled. “How about you start the countdown?”

“Ten—”

Jack leaned forward and fell from the roof. Everyone gasped. No gun fired. Jack landed on the soil of a garden, and before anyone could take in his form, he’d disappeared.

“Fire!” Henry yelled, but his men couldn’t react fast enough.

Jack roared like a bull. He smashed a fist into a man’s chest and sent him flying. He elbowed another, breaking his ribs. Before they knew it, this crowd of armed mafians had a red-eyed madman in their midst.

Guns rattled. Bangs filled the air, stealing everyone’s hearing. Their world turned mute. People screamed.

They saw a barbarian going berserk on them. He was tall, bare-chested, and lined with muscles, and his hair fluttered by his sheer speed. His eyes shone like twin stars, and his body moved at speeds they couldn't even follow. His every punch was enough to break people, walls, trees, or anything that got in his way. People flew away with soundless screams.

He opened his mouth and gave a silent roar, letting bullets graze his hair. Many missed him and pierced into other gunmen. However, nobody here was too low a Level, and their bodies could take a couple bullets.

They couldn’t take the punches. Jack smashed a fist into a stomach, holding back to not make the other man’s body explode. He turned, grabbed a man by the head, and tossed him at another man, sending them both rolling on the ground and through a wooden column. His bare feet dragged against the gravel as he shot forward, landing between three men. His fists shot out, sending them flying away like ragdolls.

More guns turned towards him in slow motion, and he easily leaned away from the bullets. Most missed him anyway due to his speed.

It wasn't just the guns; these people were moving in slow motion. Their movements were clumsy, their bodies reacting so pathetically slow it made him feel bad. He held back on purpose, not wanting to slaughter them, but even that was difficult against such frail opponents.

If any die, it’s on them. They have guns.

Jack felt vindicated. His ordeal in the dungeon was finally paying off. He was strong! Mid-battle, he clenched his fists, letting the thrill of battle wash over him and show on his grinning lips. For the first time in a long while, hewas the hunter.

This was like fighting the goblin tribe back in the day, except even easier. His love for fighting shone brighter than ever. The world had gone silent around him from the many bangs, giving the battle a surreal feeling.

His Dao Root of the Fist was a revving engine in his chest. Every punch flew true, his every step carrying him away from danger. It was trivial.

A bullet flew hard into his ribs. Jack stumbled and lost all air inside him. He turned to the side. A man in an overcoat stood behind a knee-high white fence and held an honest-to-god rifle. Jack hadn’t expected that; everyone else had handguns. He gritted his teeth.

Human (Earth-387), Level 16

Faction: Henry’s Fang (F-Grade)

Fuck.

Jack ignored the goons and moved in dodging patterns. The rifle bullets screamed by his ears, barely missing him every time. A hint of worry appeared in his heart. Not only were these bullets stronger than the others, able to injure or kill him if they struck at the wrong spot, but the man’s marksmanship was superb, too. He must have had a relevant Skill, or even many.

Jack weaved between the goons like a snake, changing directions and zigzagging as unpredictably as he could. The rifle barrel followed him closely, and it seemed to have a never-ending clip. A bullet grazed Jack’s ear; another struck his thigh and almost made him fall.

At least his hearing was recovering.

Right then, a loud shout came from a corner of the courtyard. “Yeetus fierus!”

It was followed by screams as balls of fire flew between the goons, hitting some and distracting the others. Some turned to fire at their source.

“Shieldus!”

A blue hemisphere appeared to face the goons, blocking some of the bullets. Most missed anyway. Behind the shield stood Edgar, hands and eyes blazing with sparkling cyan flames. “Fierus Whipus!” The flames morphed into a long whip that he snapped in mid-air. Any goon it met fell to the ground screaming. “I’m here, Jack!” Edgar shouted over the screams. “I’ll handle the little guys. Go get them!”

“What kind of idiot spell names are those!?”

Jack’s voice came distorted as he still danced around, desperately dodging the rifle bullets.

“They’re from Har— Shieldus!” His shield sprang up again, barely blocking a new hail of bullets. “Hurry up! I can’t do this for long!”

Jack gritted his teeth and looked around. The rifle was persistently on him, eager to reap his life. One bullet in the wrong place would be enough to end him.

Fortunately, there were plenty of human shields around. Jack grabbed one and rushed at the rifle man, still zigzagging at speeds that these low-level hitmen couldn’t match.

He leaped over the comically short fence—clearly decorative—and got within a few feet.

The marksman was a short, stocky man with heavy features. He had a scar running from his right wrist to deep inside his trenchcoat’s sleeves, and his eyes were so cold that Jack had goosebumps. This man was a killer—probably before the System.

However, now that Jack was so close, he could—

A sweet smell reached his nostrils, making him stumble. He was violently pulled out of his battle state as more instincts awoke inside him. The smell wasn’t exactly sweet; it was also a little sour; not the bad kind, but like a juicy, mellow lemon. The moment he smelled it, various images sprang uninvited in his mind, and a fire burned his body, starting from his groin. He lost focus.

In slow motion, he looked to the side, where a ravishing woman in underwear stared at him. He felt an urge to drop everything and be with her, that he couldn’t afford to miss this chance. A bullet ripped the human shield from his hands, but he didn’t care.

His Dao Root roared. A mental fist struck the illusion and broke it like a mirror, snapping Jack free. She was just a woman in underwear.

Human (Earth-387), Level 18

Faction: Henry’s Fang

Jack growled, too. He looked up, finding the rifle barrel staring at him from inches before his face. He ducked. The bullet grazed the top of his head, no doubt burning some hair. But now, he was too close.

Jack planted a foot firmly into the ground and smashed a fist into the rifle man’s abdomen with all his strength, making his back explode into a shower of blood and bones. The rifle went flying. Jack then pivoted towards the woman, who was frenziedly backing away, but she was too slow.

His fist crushed her beautiful face into paste. She was too dangerous to spare; she’d almost developed a Dao Root.

A sudden sense of danger assaulted Jack, screaming out of nowhere. He leaned back, letting a naked blade whistle inches over his nose. He tumbled back. The blade pursued him until he managed to escape beyond its reach.

“Fire, you fools! We almost got him!” Henry White jumped after Jack. He had let his subordinates scout out Jack, but now, he jumped into the fray himself. From up-close, he was an impressive man. His dark skin cut a clear contrast against his white suit, and his japanese sword glinted in the afternoon light. His green eyes were incredibly piercing, like he could see through your soul, while his concentration seemed honed like a sword. He was clean-shaven and exuding an air of transcience.

“Surrender!” Henry shouted between swings. “I work for Lord Gan Salin, one of the five scions! Even if you kill me, you’ll die too!”

Jack had no idea what that meant, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to surrender. He laughed.

“Then, die!”

The blade sang before Jack. For the first time in this fight, he couldn’t just waltz in. Henry’s strikes were fast and vicious. They were skillful. If he just rushed in, even his close to a hundred Constitution wouldn’t save him.

Fortunately, Jack was faster on his feet. He retreated for a few moments, observing Henry’s patterns. Bullets were still flying, but not nearly as many as before. Many goons had been incapacitated, some were fighting Edgar, and most of the others had run.

Jack’s back met a wall. Henry’s eyes glinted with excitement as he rushed in for the kill. Jack punched back. Both men aimed for the other, but Henry’s sword would reach there first.

Jack’s eyes flashed. Meteor Punch.

His fist accelerated like a missile, flying so fast that all the bones in his arm creaked. He was pulled forward by the fist’s momentum, escaping the sword’s trajectory, but it was unnecessary. His punch met Henry’s chest and exploded in an incredible display of blinding, ear-rattling force. A fist-shaped meteor had fallen right there.

The world went white for a moment. The katana flew away.

When everyone’s vision recovered, they saw a pair of legs flopping to the ground. Henry’s entire upper body had disappeared; some incinerated into dust, and some sent flying over the hotel's walls.

Jack’s hand remained whole this time, thanks to the level-ups and meeting Henry’s soft body instead of the black wolf’s fur, but a few bones had cracked. He couldn't control Meteor Punch perfectly yet.

He didn’t show that. Instead, he looked at the remaining goons and grinned. “Who’s next?” he asked.

On hindsight, they couldn’t hear him, thanks to the multiple gunshots and the meteor’s explosion. Even Jack could barely hear himself. But his words had the expected result.

The goons fell on their butts. They dropped their guns. With their leaders dead, what could they do against the natural disaster that went by the name of Jack Rust?

“Fuck off, then,” he said. “And Edgar…good job.”

“Thanks, man.” Edgar smiled, nonplussed by the copious amounts of blood and gore around him. He gave Jack a thumbs-up. “You did pretty well yourself.”

Jack nodded, then ignored the escaping goons and jumped on the hotel roof, where he wouldn’t be disturbed.

The territory of Valville is now unoccupied. Would you like to add it in Bare Fist Brotherhood?

It didn’t take much thought.

Yes.

“People of Valville,” he roared out loud, sending his voice over the entire town, “Henry’s Fang has been disbanded. From now on, this town is part of the Bare Fist Brotherhood, and under the protection of me, Jack Rust. We will handle things. You can sleep easy.”

Of course, he didn’t mention that he was the only member of the Brotherhood. Whoops.

He then had another thought. System, how long until the Integration Tournament?

Seven Earth-387 days.

Got it.

Jack had many things to do, but first, he had to take care of the aftermath, or, even better, find someone else to do it for him. He knew just the person.

He also wanted to go through the headquarters of Henry’s Fang for any useful items like his Dao Fruit or the Trial Planet Token. He had to find things to sell so he could buy useful skills and items from the merchant, Ar’Tazul. He also needed a lot of information; for example, what exactly was the Integration Tournament? What were those scions that Henry had mentioned?

And, most importantly, who the fuck was Gan Salin?