Road to Mastery: A LitRPG Apocalypse

The next morning found Jack refreshed. He had been high-strung for a long time; he desperately needed some time to unwind. With any luck, the next few days would hide no surprises…and then would come the Integration Tournament.

Jack’s eyes sharpened in anticipation. Until then, he would try to level up, understand more things about the System’s world, work on his Dao, and train with his new body. The Pugilist Body II upgrade had given him increased control over everything, which would be good in the long run but made everything a bitch right now. It would take practice.

For today, his first order of business was to visit the professor. He’d entrusted her with combing the faction screens for information and generally organizing the faction, and he was curious to see what she had achieved.

He exited his house—a simple first-story apartment in downtown Valville that had luckily escaped the apocalypse—wondering at how foreign it now seemed. Like it wasn’t his. Sure, he knew where the cutlery was and how to properly close the leaking window, but everything now felt like a washed-out memory.

The white walls, the cozy desk, the single bed and narrow balcony where only a single chair could fit… It was his house, sure, but it felt like a reminder of a previous world. His problems had gone from a leaking window to fighting bears bare-handed.

Perhaps it was a remnant of the past. Perhaps it reminded him of a life he now knew he hated—though it wasn’t as clear back then. Complacency was an insidious killer.

Whatever the case, Jack didn’t feel like staying home any longer. He would only return to sleep, if even that.

He took a deep breath of the clean air that made him feel alive, then headed west.

This time, he chose to walk through the town instead of fly over it, curious as to what people’s reaction would be. Most looked at him with awe, but they made way before him and didn’t dare meet his eye. Jack felt like a conqueror—a nice but disturbing feeling.

“No, wait, I’m one of you,” he said, but to no avail. Sometime later, he got annoyed, changed his mind, and parkoured over rooftops. Brock was holding on tight to his shoulders, screaming in joy and enjoying the high-speed ride that resembled an amusement park’s. Jack smiled at the thought.

There were still groups heading in and out of town—monster hunters—but at least they seemed better organized now. Each group was smaller, three to five people, and had a single handgun just in case. The professor was already at work.

Marveling at her efficiency, Jack reached her house, let Brock down—the poor monkey wanted to go another round—and knocked. “Come in!” came a voice. Jack opened the door and found himself facing a small group of wide-eyed people.

“Hello,” he said, “I’m Jack.”

“We know,” a middle-aged woman in a ponytail replied, “we’re part of your faction.”

“Oh. Okay. I suppose you’re the professor’s assistants.”

“That's right.”

“Can you take me to her?”

“Of course. Follow me,” replied the same woman, smiling at Brock before turning away. “My name is Emilia Rogers, by the way. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise. Are you from the university?”

“All of us have worked with professor Rust at one point or another, and we also happened to live in Valville—recruiting from other towns is still difficult.”

“I see. So she brought all her nearby associates onboard?”

“Not everyone. Some didn’t make it through the Integration, some were away on business, and others...” She shook her head. “They just weren’t invited.”

Bad apples. She took the opportunity to clean house, Jack thought and nodded in approval.

While chatting, Emilia led Jack through familiar rooms and into the living room, where the professor was lounging on her armchair and staring into space. Her hands were busy scribbling on a piece of paper. Brock quickly ran to her feet and held out a hand.

“Professor,” Emilia said respectfully, “Jack Rust is here to see you.”

“Jack?” she responded, joy in her face. “One moment, please.”

Half a minute later, her eyes refocused. She shook Brock's hand with a smirk, stood up, and hugged Jack. “Hello, Jack,” she said.

“Hello, mom,” he responded. Before he could say anything else, Professor Margaret pulled away and entered business mode.

“Come with me. I have discovered some incredible things. You have to see this. Thank you, Emilia.”

The woman bowed lightly and left the room.

“Well, I’m here,” said Jack, taking a seat on the sofa. “What do you got?”

“First, open your faction screen.”

Jack obliged. Faction.

Faction: Bare Fist Brotherhood (F-Grade)

Leader: Jack Rust

Members: 25

Capital: Milky Way galaxy, Milky Way sector, Animal Kingdom constellation, Earth-387 planet, Forest of the Strong dungeon area.

…

And then came a bunch of things that Jack tuned off.

“No,” said the professor, “read those too.”

He grumbled, then kept reading.

Resource Management

Contracted Monsters

Alignment

Topographical Description

Hierarchy

Buildings

Portals

Relations

Members

He’d seen these things before but ignored them. Each was split into a dozen sub-menus, and he always had better things to do.

“You know I dislike management, Professor.”

“I do know, unfortunately. You don’t need to go deeper; I’ve kept notes on the important parts. Pay attention.”

With a sigh of relief, Jack focused. Professor Margaret detailed her findings, occasionally looking over her notebook for directions. Jack noticed it was titled ‘Faction Management for Dummies.’ He scowled.

“First, I’ve noticed an interesting segregation of power,” the professor began. “The System handles some things: it knows our members, any areas under our control, contracted monsters, and specific types of buildings. However, most of a faction’s running falls to us. The System won’t streamline our hierarchy, rewards for contribution, job assignment, menial work, border surveillance, justice system, and other things. Maybe it’s different for higher-ranked factions, but at least for us, the approach it takes is very hands-off.”

“But I see a hierarchy tab right there,” Jack noted.

“Open it up.”

He did.

Leader: Jack Rust (F-Grade), Pugilist – Planetary Frontrunner (10)

Supervisor: Margaret Rust (F-Grade)

That was all. “Okay,” he admitted, “no streamlined hierarchy.”

“Exactly. I assume more roles will open up as we advance, but for now, we definitely need more divisions than that, and we’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way. Not that I mind. Old people like me love the old-fashioned way.”

“Right.”

“However, there is one thing you should know. See the Buildings tab? And the Portals one?”

“I do.”

“Those are science-fiction. Literally. From what I discovered, we can spend credits to make the System spawn buildings out of thin air.”

Jack raised a brow. “What kind of buildings?”

“Not too many. As I said, it’s generally hands-off. From what I understand, the purpose of this functionality is to eliminate barriers that might be caused by an integrated planet’s low technological level or otherwise difficult conditions. It keeps the ground at least somewhat even.”

Not too many, was all Jack heard. He opened the menu, groaned, and closed it again.

“There’s hundreds of them,” he said.

“Try filtering by price. See everything under or at a hundred thousand credits.”

“I can filter? How?”

“Just think of it.”

He frowned, then tried again. Indeed, the System now gave him only three options.

Energy Wall: 10,000 credits per mile. Creates a shimmering, transparent, incorporeal wall that releases a flare and loud noise on touch. Upkeep: 10 credits per hour, 1 credit per touch.

100-mile Portal: 100,000 credits. A teleportation portal that can connect up to 100 miles away.

Personal Starship: 100,000 credits. A vehicle that uses the Dao to propel itself. It can fit up to three people and can freely traverse space at 3000 miles/hour. Upkeep: 10 credits per hour.

“Wow.”

“That’s what I said,” she agreed. “Teleportation and space travel at the tips of our fingers. I can see why the merchant only gave me five hundred credits for my knowledge in cyber security: it’s useless.”

“Yeah… So, should we build any of these?”

“Not immediately.” The professor shook her head. “First of all, we lack the funds. Second, let’s not invite trouble on our heads. Anything could pop out of a teleportation portal—I don’t know how they work. And what would we even do with a starship?”

“Go to space?”

“Of course. Tourism is more important than the Integration Tournament.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “Did you call going to space tourism?”

“We’re part of an intergalactic network now, Jack. Space is to the System what the sea was to our planet. Not to mention we might be under critical danger.”

“What kind of danger?”

“I have no idea!” She threw her hands in the air. “Even the advanced information package you gave me says nothing concrete. However, I know that there are two critical events in a newly-integrated planet’s life. The first is the Integration Tournament, where the best of the best are given a massive extra push. It’s what creates the future elites. The second critical event is the end of our grace period.”

“Which you’re about to explain.”

“Yes, if you stop interrupting. Every planet is given a grace period which lasts about five hundred galactic days—that’s around a year in Earth time. 370.5 days, to be precise. Before that time, aliens cannot enter Earth. We do not have to pay taxes, follow their laws, or submit ourselves to anything. We basically get free reign so we can adapt and grow reasonably strong. The only exceptions to that are merchants, non-combative administrative personnel for the Integration Tournament, and a single C-Grade Planetary Overseer.”

Jack’s eyes snapped to focus. “C-Grade?”

“Yes. They aren’t allowed to intervene in anything except events that threaten the integrity of our planet or population. They basically make sure nothing terrible happens while we’re alone, like a widespread plague, a full-blown monster outbreak, or space pirates invading us.”

Jack’s eyes widened further. “Space pirates?!”

“That’s beside the point. The issue is that, after the one year is over, things go south quickly. We have to pay heavy taxes, surrender our freedom, and be submitted to the whims of our alien overlords with minimal self-governing. The information package says the the Animal Kingdom are generous overlords, but...I don’t trust that one bit. Even the wording is awful: Generous overlords.”

“Yeah. That sucks.”

“It does.”

“What can we do about it?”

“Nothing, basically.” She shrugged. “Your best bet is to get strong enough to be accepted into the Animal Kingdom faction, the overlords of our constellation, as a disciple. That should make Earth’s situation better, especially for our faction.”

“I see… So, aliens are bad news.”

“Aliens are bad news.” She agreed with a nod.

“I don’t know, Professor… This all sounds a bit negative to me.”

“Did you expect an alien invasion to be fun?”

“I expected the System to be fair. So far, danger has coexisted with opportunity. If overpowered alien overlords just show up after a year and suppress us, there isn’t much we can do, is there?”

“No, there isn’t. There’s little to no chance of anyone reaching the D-Grade in a year, let alone the C-Grade, as the Planet Kings usually are. We’ll be doomed to subservience until one of our natives reaches the C-Grade and chooses to take over our planet, but…you know, that is also a form of balance. We won’t be slaves, just temporarily shoved to a lower position. It isn’t ideal, obviously, but it isn’t unfair either.”

Jack opened his mouth to say something, then thought better about it. The professor always knew what she was speaking about. Hastily arguing against her was foolish.

A moment later, he spoke. “It is fair, I guess. It just doesn't work well for us.”

“It will for our children—well, yours—who will be the old ones at another new planet’s integration.” The professor smiled. “Cheer up, Jack. It’s not that bad—and, most importantly, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Yeah…”

Jack scoffed. That someone would come rule them sounded ugly after all the newfound liberty he had, yet it made sense, no matter how he turned it. It was natural. They would destroy the freedom he so enjoyed, but he understood the need for order, and the stronger and more experienced would naturally rule. So, why did he feel unsatisfied?

Because a fist is ruled by no one. The thought came unbridled to his mind, rising from its deepest depths. Jack enjoyed the thought but didn’t entertain it. He was a warrior, not a fool—and if his path was a bit extreme, he wasn’t obligated to follow it.

His Dao Root protested, but he scolded it. Even the strongest warrior must know when to yield. Especially when I can do nothing about it. Maybe the Animal Kingdom, or whatever they’re called, are nice people.

But no matter how he pushed, he still disliked the idea. What if you could do something about it? his Dao insisted, excited at the prospect. He frowned deeper.

Whatever.

“Jack?” said the professor. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Just considering things, that’s all.”

“Hmm.”

“So, is that all?”

“For now. I’m still looking at things, but— Oh, yes. What are these”—she squinted— “gymonkeys and brorillas I see in the Contracted Monsters section? Brock’s pack, I assume, but I need more details. And who’s Harambe?”

“Just a friend,” Jack said, his mood instantly taking a turn for the better. That’s right. I should visit them before the tournament.

The professor cocked a brow. “I understand you like sounding cool, Jack, but I cannot work with ‘a friend.’”

Jack laughed. “They were monsters spawned in the Forest of the Strong, the dungeon I conquered. You can probably see it in the territory tab, or whatever it’s called. I became friends with them. They’re the reason why I made a faction, actually; the System would just despawn them otherwise.”

“Hmm.” The professor’s eyes glinted. “I see here that they’re very strong.”

“Yeah. There’s twenty of them. The weakest is Level 9, and the strongest, Harambe, could easily turn Henry White into mush.”

“That’s interesting.”

Jack suddenly remembered more things. “The dungeon had several useful resources, actually. We should move our faction there. It can significantly increase the physical stats of our members; plus, you get the protection of the monkeys if anything happens.”

“I see.” Her eyes narrowed. “Is there a reason why you neglected to mention these before?”

“I didn’t want to overwhelm you, Professor. Information works best bite-sized.” Her eye-narrowing intensified, but Jack paid her no mind as he stood. “Anyway, got to go. I suddenly feel like training. If you want, we can grab Edgar and go visit the forest tomorrow. The monkeys will want to meet you, too.”

“OK. Let’s meet here at dawn.”

“Sure. By the way, did you have any news about that Gan Salin? The one that Henry White mentioned?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. I asked around, but nobody’s heard of him—and Ar’Tazul asked for more credits than I could spare.”

“I see… Well, no big deal. I guess I’ll meet him in the tournament. See you at dawn, Professor.”

“See you, Jack.”

He turned to leave.

“And Jack?” she said behind his back. He turned around. Her gaze was mellow. “Be careful, please.”

Jack blinked, then smiled widely. “I will. Let’s go, Brock.”

Brock, however, stayed for a moment to play with the professor—they had somehow developed a good relationship. He struggled and managed to lift a short table despite being short himself, then smiled smugly. The professor exclaimed in surprise.

“What a strong boy!” she said. “Can I give him some treats, Jack? I have salami in the cupboard.”

“Knock yourself out,” he replied with a laugh. “I’ll be outside.”

He left the room alone and headed for the door. It was still surrounded by clean glass with flowers drawn on it. Jack turned the doorknob, opened it, and found a young man standing outside with his hand ready to knock.

“Oh, hello,” he said politely. “Are you Jack Rust?”

Jack’s eyes narrowed. This person was short, with brown eyes and hair, as well as a wiry body that seemed full of energy. He wasn’t the least bit intimidated by Jack’s bare-chested, barbaric appearance, and despite his relaxed attitude, something in his eyes put Jack on edge. He knew that glint. Behind those eyes hid deep-seated insanity.

“I am. Who are you?”

“Gan Salin. And I hear you took some initiative in my town.”