Starred Tower: System Misinterpret Book One - A Post Apocalyptic Cultivation LitRPG

by Ryan DeBruyn

  “Have a good day,” Larry practically shouts as I turn away. As I hurry to create more distance, I hear him mumbling to himself, “Such a nervous nelly that one. Wonder if it’s ‘cause of them funny-looking ears. . .”

  I reach up and touch them as I walk, trying to ensure that my hair fully covers them. That’s something I will need to be careful of. Leah wanted them hidden for some reason, and I don’t want to find out the hard way why.

  The road is a combination of patchy asphalt and ancient brickwork, which seem recently repaired. The side of the road has very ratty bushes protected by a blackened and overgrown concrete curb. The foliage of these bushes has next to no leaves, and I wonder if that’s because it’s fall or because of the array’s shade. Behind the plants is where people are walking or milling about, so I choose to walk on what I believe Alrick refers to as the sidewalk.

  The clothing of others isn’t far from my own, and I sigh in relief. I seem to fit in with the threadbare look of all the citizens here. That’s one worry of mine out of the way. I had initially believed that the populace of the Suburbs would live lives of opulent luxury. Another startling realization to go alongside Larry’s strange rank.

  The closer I get to the edge of the shade, the nicer the houses seem to be. Each one is in slightly better repair, and a few remind me of some of the mansions in the abandoned smaller city’s our group would stay in from time to time. Just in much better repair. I stop dead in my tracks once I see the number of people in front of me.

  A crowd is forming up ahead, and I can’t help the flutters in my stomach. There are so many people. The only reason I don’t turn and flee is the fact that it’s a mass of people forming right at the demarcation of shade and sun. I approach the backs of the gathered people slowly, ready to turn and run if someone notices me. Scrutinizing the crowd, I begin to see that it isn’t disorganized but instead has two snaking lines. At the front of each line stand a couple people in commando greens, a metallic vehicle parked on each side of the road, narrowing the gap. Frankly, I’m surprised I didn’t see the metallic roadblocks’ tops sooner but chalk it up to their dark green coloring.

  “State your business,” a guard commands loudly enough that I hear it through the tight press of bodies. The feminine voice makes me do a double-take. I took both solidly built figures up ahead to be men. It’s still hard for me to distinguish who the speaker was and whether it was a woman because I can only catch glimpses of the uniformed guards.

  A pleading voice reaches my ears through the press of bodies, “I’m just going to trade some of my goods in town.”

  “You went through yesterday. Unless you have business with a merchant, the Church, a guild, a group, or one of the families today, we can’t let you pass,” the female voice states dispassionately.

  “Come on, Julia, it’s me, Barry—”

  The sounds at the front of the line change, and loud grunts and a few whines of pain filter back to me. The crowd doesn’t even gasp in surprise, though, which tells me whatever is happening near the front is common. I again contemplate turning around and leaving, but people have now lined up behind me, and I am unsure if turning back will somehow cause a commotion.

  “You are sentenced to four days in the mines,” a dispassionate male voice intones as a hollow metallic thump sounds from near the sunlight. “There are no exceptions for entering Beach, and bribing a guard is illegal.”

  I blink and stop moving back and forth to see the front of the line. If that is considered bribery, maybe my curiosity is considered jostling, and I’ll be condemned to the mines too. Whatever they are. Someone touches me from behind, and I jump, feeling my skin crawl from the point of contact. The guy indicates moving forward, and I realize that I’ve been standing still too long. I close my mouth and find it dry thanks to all the hanging it’s been doing. Hurriedly I take the few steps I missed to be behind the woman in front of me.

  The line moves slowly, and I listen intently to conversations near the front until I realize that they are all nearly identical. Only one more citizen is confined to the metal carriages, supposedly for cheating a merchant in town a few days ago. The individual protests briefly but gives up shortly after, and I assume that means he’s guilty.

  Finally, I am near the front. I stare at the two guards and trigger [Identify].

  Julia Glenn

  Rank: C-2

  ----

  Indica Sol

  Rank: C-9

  Compared to the others I identified in line, these two are gods, on par with Alrick. For them to be this powerful probably means they are well-paid members of a guild. I briefly consider nobles from a powerful family. Still, they probably wouldn’t be stationed here if that were the case, right? Truthfully, the inner workings of suburbs and guilds are just a theoretical exercise for me; all I can do is guess.

  Each guard is actually filtering through people and either turning them back or letting them through. Indica has a softer voice, which prevents it from traveling to my ears over the crowd’s mumbles and shuffling. Julia, the woman my line heads toward, has a more feminine voice, and the higher pitch cuts over the rest, so I have a feel for what she might ask me. The citizen she was questioning enters the Suburb, and she beckons me to step toward her. I take a deep breath and approach—and to my dismay, the script I have heard changes.

  “I haven’t seen you here before. Is this your first time?”

  “Oh, well, yes. I am—” I whisper and blink stupidly, having practiced a different dialogue in my head.

  “Answer only the questions I ask, please.” Julia overrides my prepared explanation, her please sounding more like a threat than a courtesy. I open my mouth and shut it again with a snap, and Julia nods, one corner of her mouth turning upwards. “Good. What is your name, and do you have any affiliations to state?”

  “Jeff, umm, Smith. I, uh . . . I’m pretty sure I have no affiliations.” I stutter as I use the last name I thought was mine my entire life. Until the Training Room revealed otherwise. I don’t think using my actual last name will be a smart move either, not with that army looking for Leanne Turle.

  “Okay, ‘Jeff, umm, Smith,’ why are you entering Beach?”

  “I am here to try to join a dungeon-diving team or the Adventuring Guild. I recently lost my parents, who provided for me, and need to earn money and get food on my own,” I respond softly, back on track with my rehearsal.

  “Unless there is a monster in town, and that is what killed your folks, I don’t care about your sob story, Smith,” Julia states before marking something on her clipboard. “You have temporary permission to enter the city. Suppose you want to enter in the future though. In that case, I will expect you to show a guard at this post your adventurer’s token or your team identification badge by the end of the day.”

  “Uhh, thank you?” I respond, unsure of what she is talking about and hoping she will elaborate. She just waves me away impatiently, and I quickly glance at one of the two imposing vehicles with people staring through barred windows. I only look back once as I rush through the entry post but don’t find anyone paying attention to me.

  The sun hits me a few steps farther in, and my eyes close unbidden. It’s such an indescribable feeling to have that gentle heat on my skin. It is similar to the warm shower’s effects, which I only discovered recently, but intensified a hundredfold. I open my eyes and stare at my forearm and the little skin showing at the end of the rolled up black fabric. Is the skin changed somehow? No, but the direct sunlight does feel fantastic. I roll up my sleeves even further and hold my arms beyond the shadows my body is creating. I take a deep breath of air and realize that the smell on this side of the roadblock is completely different. Gone is the sewage and dirt, and I can actually somewhat smell myself again. In its place is the scent of . . . toasting bread? Just amplified and somehow richer.

  I smell distinct spices on the air too, and smile as I spin to enjoy the sun on different parts of my body.

  “Look at that bumpkin
!” someone nearby exclaims with a laugh. “First time in a suburb much?”

  My face flushes, and my urge to sit and cultivate vanishes. I glance at the speaker, but they are walking away, no longer paying me much attention. Are passing comments like that common? I shake off my speculation, for now. I should probably get to a place out of the way if I am going to spend fifteen minutes cultivating.

  I walk another fifty steps or so, when something whirs by, distracting me from my search for an out-of-the-way place with ample sunlight. My eyes track a metal vehicle gleaming in the sun as it buzzes by me, and my mouth falls open. The car is beside me one moment and then fading out of sight the next. It doesn’t make much of a sound; I think the whir I heard was disturbed air as it passed. My brain provides its usual hundred questions, but I have no one to ask. What is it running on?! I have only seen long haul vehicles and those from a distance. Alrick told me those massive trucks ran on monster cores or fossil fuels, but I could hear them from nearly a kilometer away. That beautiful thing was completely different.

  I keep walking and see the houses change shape. At first, they are still two-story townhomes similar to ones I’ve stayed in numerous times before. Of course, these townhomes are standing with all their walls and windows. So, in much better repair than anything I have experienced, but still, they’re small dwellings. Now the houses morph into concrete boxes with hard edges and a minimum of three stories. Looking toward the horizon, I can tell that these structures only get larger up ahead.

  The clop of hooves striking the brickwork stops me in my tracks, and I turn to ogle another type of vehicle hovering down the road toward me. I have seen horses from a distance, but the two pulling this beautiful, gleaming vehicle behind them aren’t those dull creatures. The ones pulling wagons filled with merchant wares and the merchants themselves are unkempt flea-infested vermin next to these. Another startling difference is the wagon they pull.

  The metal and wood masterpiece these elegant creatures lead is a cross between luxury and functionality. The horses are traveling at speeds likely faster than the zooming car was. The only reason I get to study this one longer is because of the noise of the horses’ hooves alerting me sooner. In fact, this cart hovers behind the horses, not even touching the ground as it glides by. I shut my mouth and find it totally dried out. This place is full of new things and I watch the beautiful horses swerve around a corner. I continue staring at the place they disappeared for far too long and give myself a mental slap—I look like the ultimate country bumpkin right now.

  I practically bounce as I walk ever nearer the water. I notice a rather tall concrete box with a metal staircase on the outside. The stairs remind me of the exit from the Training Room but lead to the roof of the ten-story building via a final ladder at the top. The first landing has a small jump to a half ladder that hangs ten feet off the ground, and I can’t think of a more out-of-the-way place than a rooftop. I leap to the first landing on the stairs and shimmy along the outside of the second landing when I reach a locked gate. The best part is that the staircases are set far back in a darkened alley between two of these large structures. So, while I keep checking, I don’t see anyone watching. A quick hop back to the landing after the gate and nine more flights of stairs, and I’m up the ladder and peering over the top onto a roof.

  The roof is mostly covered in gravel, but there is a chain-link cage filled with green foliage near a door to the building’s interior. Sweet smells of flowers waft by me as I scan the rest of the area. Other than the sound of trickling water from something inside the cage, I deem the area empty and safe. As soon as I am over the lip of the roof, I sit down against it. I’m not going near that cage, as I am only attempting to cultivate in the sun, not lounge around in comfort or enter the building.

  Once seated, I just sit there in the sun for a long moment, reliving and studying those feelings from the street below. This is what I was missing? I smile in excitement but then feel the emotion twist inside me as my smile becomes a frown. Leah is truly a monster. She could have told me not to attempt breakthroughs but allowed me this, right? Tears drip from my eyes.

  It takes a few minutes before I calm down enough. I’m here now, and it probably feels better because I am able to do it without her around! With that, I begin meditation. The Sun qi slowly filters through my skin, into my body. By following Alrick’s teachings, I pull sunlight into my Dantian but then switch to following Crash’s hints, which is to immediately circulate it along my River artery.

  Approximately once a minute, enough Sun qi enters that a drop forms. When that happens, I send that drop through the vein and toward my heart and lungs. Once it’s activated, I replace one of the Fire or Earth qi that is currently spinning around in the River. Thanks to Crash’s sales pitches, I know that Sun qi is better for breakthroughs and cleansing. Over the last few days, most of my Sun qi from the pill has been consumed, and this is a fantastic opportunity to replace it.

  As soon as I feel the fifteenth drop of liquid form, I stop absorbing and continue circulating. I end up with only eleven activated drops, which is more than the nine I need to fill the River. I place two extras into my Dantian and send some of my overabundant Fire qi to cleanse more of the pathway toward my heart. For a time I just sit there, fighting the urge to cultivate more. I could just send it on to my heart, right?

  Crash’s suggestions haven’t steered me wrong in the past, though, and if I have access to the Suburb every day, then I’ll be back soon. I sit in the gravel for a while longer with my eyes closed just savoring that feeling. I will be back. I can cultivate again tomorrow!

  I finally open my eyes after that exciting realization and stand up to leave.

  “I thought you would stay and cultivate for days.” The half-chuckling voice startles me as I am midway to my feet. I turn to see a dark-haired young girl seated in the cage of greenery. She is sitting on a bench beside a small pond of water, feeding something that lies within. One of my feet is in the air, ready to mount the top rung of the ladder. I back up and pause, staring into piercing green eyes. Now that she is looking at me and not the pond, I realize I can’t move.

  “Where are you headed?” she asks in a nonchalant voice. She seems to be greatly amused by this whole encounter, which only makes my heart beat faster. Is she so happy because she plans to kill me?

  Veronica Verdent

  Rank: F-3

  My staring triggers [Identify], which successfully draws me away from her eyes. Only an F-rank—and the same minor rank as me? She isn’t a threat, so I shake myself and take a deep breath. That deep breath allows me to smell myself overpowering the lovely sweet smell of plants from the caged garden. Great, I stink too.

  “Sorry, I just—vehicles—people. . .” I point down the ladder to indicate the street as I try to communicate in what I think might be English. Clearly, it isn’t just the threat level of a human that causes me to be awkward.

  “I always appreciate company on our roof. Why don’t you join me?” she says.

  No way! I can’t go near her; I probably smell worse than Larry. Am I even allowed up here?

  “Sorry—camp chores,” I blurt out as I leap down the ladder to flee. What did I just say? My cheeks blush furiously as I realize that out of habit I used the excuse I had in the mercenary camp. My face burns hotter. I can hear a musical laugh follow me, almost like it is riding on my shoulders the entire way back to the ground.

  Chapter 15

  August 30th, 151 AR

  Jeff Turle

  Dungeon Square is filled with bodies. Each group is clustered around a single person holding some sort of light-emitting stick in the air. Above each cluster is a glowing grouping of letters. I read each as I pass by, not fully understanding some terms, but having a good idea.

  “Looking for a competent infuser, rank D and above,” I whisper aloud as I make my way past a group. My first goal was always to try the Adventuring Guild, so I ignore most other signs. Unlike the groups out here, the Adventurer�
�s Guild offers insurance and pay per hour, but admittedly, it is harder to gain entry.

  The Guild pairs teams and will even stock parties with Sun Pills and medicines for their dungeon runs. Does it sound too good to be true? Well, according to Alrick, the Adventurer’s Guild takes a sixty-percent cut of all monster cores, meats, furs, and other loot. From what remains, they deduct any used items and medicines from that individuals’ daily wages and their cut before allowing the group to split the rest.

  This is still a great opportunity in many ways because you can start dungeon diving in the safest way possible with members who have been vetted and even have a performance rating. Of course, a Sun Pill, even a low-ranked one, is worth quite a bit of money, and if you are forced to use it to save your life, well, then you could be looking at a lot of confiscated wages and loot to reimburse the Guild.

  I guess the question ends up being, would I rather live and be in debt or die? That isn’t even a question to me. If you are still alive, you can always strive to be more. Once you die, it’s over. Scary how easy it is to forget that, though, and walking through this square, I can see lots of people who might’ve.

  Some groups have this darkness that seems to hang over them, even in the early morning hours with the sun high in the sky. I try my best to steer well clear of them. By the time I reach the old brick building with the clock tower, I have seen three or four groups looking for a Sherpa, though. I’ve heard the term before, often derogatorily used by the mercenaries, and put the information together to realize it’s a Bag Carrier. At least there are options out here if inside doesn’t go well.