Road to Mastery: A LitRPG Apocalypse

Alexander both loved and hated the Integration.

On one hand, it had given him power. He had risen in status and in the chain of command. His former bosses would have to serve him, if he hadn’t killed them already.

On the other…he now had to deal with idiots. Those people would have never achieved success in the pre-Integration world. They were stubborn, naive, short-sighted, and idealistic; qualities that should put them as far away from power as possible, dooming them to remain cogs in the machine for the remainder of their lives.

And yet, here they were.

Just because they could punch, or whatever each of them did, they had suddenly climbed to the top of the world. And they thought they deserved it. Dealing with them was so tiring for Alexander… At least, this situation was only temporary. The elites would seize back control, cultivation resources would be tightly moderated, and society would return to relative order.

And he would be the king of Earth.

He knocked on the door—the number 1 was painted on it in golden color—and waited. Somebody pulled it open from the other side. “Alex!” An excited voice reached him, souring his mood further, but he showed a smile.

“Sir Salin,” he replied, nodding. “Thank you for your patience.”

“Don’t be like that! Come on, loosen up a little.” The canine slung an arm over his shoulder, grabbing him like a friend and pulling him inside. Alexander resisted the urge to freeze him, or even better, pull out his gun and shoot him. He still carried one of those. They did wonders for intimidation; integrated memory was wonderful.

Plus, it gave him confidence.

Still with an arm over his broad shoulders, Gan Salin led Alexander inside the house. Two more people waited there; Shard Presht—the sharken—leaned against a counter. Rufus Emberheart faced the window, only showing Alexander his back.

This leonine was the only person Alexander acknowledged. He knew how to behave. Serving under him was a good decision—which was handy because there was no other choice. In this new world, the only way to survive and prosper was to hug the legs of the strong, and anyone who didn’t see that was a fool.

“Alexander,” Rufus’s deep voice rumbled.

“Sir,” Alexander replied, lowering his head in subservience. “I have the information you requested.”

“Good. Let’s hear it.”

Rufus was still facing away, but Alexander didn’t dare dally. “The Flame River has recruited Jack Rust, Dorman Whistles, Edgar Allano, and the Sage. They also approached Li Xiang and Kane Vanderdecken, who both remain neutral. No important factions have sided with them.”

“Of course they haven’t,” Rufus Emberheart replied softly. By the side, the sharken chuckled darkly.

At this point, Alexander could have waited, prodding Rufus to ask him to continue. That would subconsciously raise Alexander’s standing. Unfortunately, he didn’t dare; the leonine was frighteningly sharp, and he permitted no tricks. Alexander had already lost an agent like that.

“On our side,” Alexander continued unprompted, “we have five smaller factions whose leaders participated in the tournament, as well as sixteen independent fighters. We are awaiting the response of nine more, but most of them will probably join us as well. Additionally, we have established contact with every major government that is still standing. All of them have pledged allegiance to you and the Animal Kingdom.”

Rufus nodded slowly. “How long would we need to squash any resistance?”

“One to three days, sir. Nuclear weapons are forbidden by the Star Pact, but we can use starships to send elite teams into their bases—provided the Tournament has ended, of course. Only Dorman Whistles and the Sage have no known base of operations, but with our connections, we’ll discover them within two days even if they try to hide.”

“Very well. Is there anything else?”

“No, sir.”

“Then, you may go.”

Alexander turned to leave, politely shaking off Gan Salin’s arm, which had remained on his shoulders all this time.

“And, Alexander?” Rufus’s voice came again. Alexander turned, bowed, and waited. “You don’t need to bow that low in my presence. I can see your respect, and that is enough.”

Alexander took the cue and raised his head, meeting Rufus’s face. He was stern without being threatening, while his eyes and smile carried the charm of a friendly yet skilled commander. He practically oozed confidence.

He was a born king.

“Thank you, sir,” he replied.

“I am pleased with you, Alexander. Do not disappoint me, and this planet will soon fall to your feet.”

Alexander waited for a moment. When no further words came, he replied, “Thank you, sir,” and departed.

As the door slid closed behind him, he raised his head to look at the afternoon sky. The gambles of his entire life were paying off. He would finally rise.

***

Jack jumped over an elliptical, turned atop of a rowing machine, then launched himself forward again. A mechanical hand missed his back by the tiniest margin, close enough that Jack could feel the breeze.

Shit!

He ran around with Sparman hot on his heels. He landed on the treadmill and activated it just as Sparman stepped forth, ruining its balance for just a moment. That was enough to pass between the benchpress and the elliptical, dashing the other way again.

To train in Parkour, Jack had to play tag.

They had moved most of the gym equipment from the other room to the sparring room, filling it until it felt neither empty nor full. Now, Jack rushed to escape from the sparring robot operating at its fourth level. The room was small, roughly like a round tennis court, so the two of them were like blurs as they ricocheted from wall to wall, passing under, above, and through instruments.

Jack had no hope of escaping without parkour. His only chance was to use the terrain to his advantage, somehow outsmarting and outmaneuvering the robot to last a second longer.

It was quite stressful, but his Dao Root of Indomitable Will shone again.

He parkoured around the rowing machine and—

Sparman’s palm slapped his back, sending him tumbling into a wall.

“Damn it!” he said, jumping up. “How long was that, Sparman?”

“Six seconds and eleven hundredths, Master. This was the longest you’ve ever lasted!”

“That’s what she said,” Jack mumbled under his breath as he stretched his arms. He had been going at this for hours, and even his Dao Root was struggling to keep him focused. “I think that’s enough. We can try again tomorrow.”

“Don’t forget about the auction, Master.”

“I won’t. Thank you for the hard work, Sparman. See you around.”

“I am always available, Master, and I look forward to spending another six wonderful seconds with you.”

Jack glared but couldn’t help laughing.

It was the second day after the first phase of the tournament concluded, and the auction would be held that night. Jack had spent both days training, of course—but to no skill upgrades.

“Are you ready, Brock?” he asked, exiting the room. He shouldn’t have; Brock lay on his back on the soft floor, arms spread wide and snoring loudly. Jack smirked. “Wake up, bro,” he said, squatting and nudging his friend. “We have an auction to attend. Don’t want to leave the others waiting.”

The moment his finger touched Brock, he jumped up and flexed instantly. He then looked around in confusion before his gaze locked onto Jack. He smiled, blinking the bleariness away, then made happy monkey sounds.

“Good evening to you too, Brock.” Jack smiled. “You worked hard.”

Brock flexed his biceps. He really had worked hard; while Jack was training in parkour and drill, Brock had been following an intense work-out routine focused on maximum gains. Jack inspected him.

Brorilla, Level 7 (Elite)

A gorilla variant from planet Green. Brorillas usually live with Gymonkeys and train them in the ways of working out. It is due to the Brorillas’ unmatched pecks that Gymonkeys use poop to fight—they consider themselves too weak for anything else.

Brorillas are usually calm, measured animals. However, if anyone harms their little cousins or invades their territory, they go bananas.

This particular brorilla is a variant that visually resembles a gymonkey. Though not weaker than other brorillas, the members of this variant are often shunned due to their lack of bulging muscles.

Though he hadn’t grown much in size—he could still stand on Jack’s shoulder—Brock now had muscles so condensed he could easily rip a pre-System human to pieces. He wouldn’t do that, of course, because he was a friendly brorilla.

“Come on, Brock!” Jack said, beginning to get excited, and Brock followed him. People spoke about the auction all the time; it was time to see if those extravagant claims really held water—and if they did, Jack was prepared. He gazed at his credit card, where yellow digits glowed.

2,137,469

A nice number of credits.

He climbed the stairs and reached his house, then took a quick shower. The setting sunlight streamed in through the window as Jack opened his wardrobe. It was filled with suits of all sizes, and he reached towards the right end to pick out one that fit him.

He put it on.

The shirt was white with a low collar. He buttoned it up, feeling the smooth fabric hug his wide shoulders. The sleeves stretched around his arms, and the black tie wrapped around his collar, quickly tied into a knot. He then put on a pair of black pants and clean, brown shoes.

His final piece of attire was a dark suit. With slick dark hair, brown eyes, and a slightly larger than average build, Jack looked sharp.

He smiled at the full-body mirror. He felt like a businessman.

Brock didn’t have anything else to wear, unfortunately, so he simply stuck with his red pair of shorts.

“Ready?”

“Uu-uu-aah!”

Jack and Brock left the house in style, then crossed the empty participants district. Edgar, Vivi, Dorman, the Sage, and five members of Flame River waited for him at the entrance, each dressed as well as him—with the exception of Sage, who apparently enjoyed looking homeless.

“You’re late,” Dorman said.

“Sorry. I was busy.”

“You look good,” Vivi said. She wore a simple red dress that contrasted her dark skin, and her hair was caught in an intricate braid.

“You too,” Jack replied, smiling. “Are we waiting for anyone else?”

“Of course not. You are the last one.”

He scoffed. “Then, let’s go.”

They were an outstanding group. As they crossed the Integration City, people turned to look, and eyes followed them all the way until they went out of sight. Alien merchants and humans alike watched their group with interest. Though they were few, they were one of the two major alliances in town, and they were dressed well.

“How is your training going, Edgar?” Jack asked, approaching his friend.

“My master is amazing!” Edgar replied. He looked like he’d been dying to talk about this. “He knows so much stuff and has so many ideas about everything. Did you know there are twelve types of magic? And that my pure arcane mana can resonate with all of them? Just in two days, I have learned six new spells, and that’s only because Master wants me to get used to them first before teaching me more. I can craft better illusions and sound attacks, and—”

He went on, detailing so many things that Jack lost track, but that was okay. He got the gist of things. Edgar would be strong.

“Unfortunately, Master said that wizards are weak in duels,” Edgar finished with a sad expression. “But I can do so many things now!”

“Yeah. I’m really happy for you.”

“What about you? What did you learn?”

“I can punch a target from slightly further away, and I played a lot of tag,” Jack replied. Then, seeing Edgar’s frozen face, he laughed. “It’s good training—probably. Master Shol seems reliable.”

“Of course! I didn’t mean to imply anything. I’m sure you’ll be a beast at the finals.”

“That, I will,” Jack replied smilingly. “And not just me.”

Dorman was walking with new vigor in his steps. Even Vivi did, despite having no mentor. And the Sage… Well, the Sage looked the same as ever.

The auction house was visible from afar. It had opened its gates for the first and last time in this Integration, and it wouldn’t spare expenses. Every window was lit, and the entrance was guarded by two robo-dog guards with sharp red eyes behind their slick sunglasses.

A crowd of people waited outside, but most of those who wanted to participate had already entered. A dog guard stopped them at the entrance. “Ten thousand credits a head,” it commanded in a rough, mechanical voice.

They complied. Jack had to pay twice, for Brock as well. Then, they were in.

There were no rooms in the large building that served as the auction house, or at least, not many of them. Most of the interior was taken up by a single large space extending from side to side and with balconies on the second floor that overlooked the main stage.

The auction house reminded Jack of a big theater.

An upraised platform stood at the very front, where all the velvet seats looked at. Only an empty wooden table stood on it, covered in a red tablecloth, while there were passages leading behind the stage.

The place was packed. The ground floor could seat at least a hundred people, and each of the sixteen balconies that surrounded it had a round table with three chairs. Jack and the rest were about to enter the main room when a dog guard stopped them.

“Finalists have balconies,” it said simply, then pointed them to a set of stairs. They smiled.

“We can’t all fit in one,” Vivi said. “Let’s split up. And let’s be kind to each other, yes?”

“Of course,” Jack replied. The Sage nodded.

They climbed the stairs and arranged themselves into balconies. Jack sat with Edgar and Brock. Vivi took two members of her faction to her balcony, while Sadaka, the other finalist from Flame River, took the other two. Unexpectedly, the Sage and Dorman sat together—though maybe they were just left for last.

Jack removed his dark suit and hung it on the back of his chair. He then rolled up his white sleeves—it was hot in there—and took a seat, enjoying the feel of the luxurious cushion on his suited butt.

“This is nice,” he said, grinning.

“But everyone’s looking at us…” Edgar muttered. Brock sat on the edge of the balcony to have a better view, letting his feet dangle over the people below.

“No pooping, you hear me?” Jack said, and Brock made an insulted face. Jack took it to mean, “Me, poop? Never!”

From where they sat, they had a clear view of the stage as well as all the other balconies—the venue was circular in shape.

Brother Tao sat in a balcony by himself, as did Li Xiang. Vanderdecken—the metal guy—had a red-haired girl with him.

Alexander Petrovic and Elena Richter each had two Ice Peak members on their balcony. The scions were split in two; the elef and eagler sat together—with the elef not fitting in a chair, so she had to stay standing—while Rufus Emberheart, Shard Presht, and Gan Salin sat together as well.

Coincidentally, Jack had managed to feud with all three members of the last group. How nice.

Of course, many balconies remained empty, but nobody dared claim them. They couldn’t come up the stairs.

Jack scanned every other balcony with his gaze. Some didn’t notice him; some ignored him; a few—his allies—nodded back. Only Shard Presht and Gan Salin met his gaze and held it. Both had been defeated by Jack, and both held a grudge. Rufus Emberheart didn’t put him in his eyes. He sat there silently and seemed to be resting—or meditating. Jack really couldn’t tell.

The arena was noisy as people spoke to each other. The people below were either defeated tournament participants or representatives of other factions who had traveled here by their own means. No aliens were allowed to attend.

All whispers were interrupted instantly as an alien stepped on the stage. They weren’t from any race Jack had seen before; they were humanoid but had pale skin and black eyes, and they carried an innate regality that even Jack found himself acknowledging.

The alien looked like a man. Jack scanned him.

Vampire, Level ??? (E-Grade)

Faction: Hand of God (B-Grade)

“You have got to be kidding me,” Jack and Edgar said at the same time. Many people in the audience had similar reactions, but the vampire’s clear voice cut through their clamor like a blade.

He didn’t seem evil, as Earth tradition would have him; just noble.

“Welcome to the Integration Auction, people of Earth-387,” he declared. His charm was evident. “My name is Vocrich Eretor, a vampire lord of Kotsiya, and I will be your host for tonight.”