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

by Ryan DeBruyn

  “Hello, Jeff,” Jessamyn says as she stands up and straightens her back. She peels off some heavy gloves and drops a bristled brush into a nearby bucket, before turning to Veronica. “I assume this has to do with our friend here, then?” she continues. Veronica nods and Jess’s lips curl into a knowing smile. I try to think about what’s so funny as she walks by us to the door.

  Jessamyn closes the door behind her without further question. My eyebrows rise when I realize just how much influence Veronica has in the Star Bucks guild. She just ordered around a D-rank guild member, and they obeyed without question. That same D-rank member had been cleaning her room too! It makes what I have to tell her next even harder. I rub my ear as she moves to the apartment’s kitchen and pours two glasses of water. She then fills a strange pitcher beside the sink before placing it on a plate that plugs into the wall. She presses a button and turns toward me, passing me one of the two cups of water.

  “Oh, thanks,” I mutter as I gather my courage. “So I learned something about the [Paired Cultivation] technique, and, well. . .” I fade off, my throat tightening up and refusing to say what comes next. If I don’t say it soon, though, Darren and Jacque will show up, and it will only get more challenging. So I take a drink of water and cough again. “Whomever you practice it with is the only one you can do it with for the rest of your life,” I blurt out in a rush, my voice cracking.

  Veronica sips her own water, appearing rather calm about the whole issue. After a moment, she motions to the sitting area, and I blink stupidly at her and the gesture. Did she not hear me? She leads the way to the couch and sits in a nearby armchair.

  “Jeff, it seems like you are expecting me to be upset,” she says and then makes a larger gesture indicating the cushion of the couch nearest her. “I assume you didn’t know this when you first arrived?” Her voice is low, and I nod my head as I sit down. I don’t think I will be admitting that my inattentiveness was the actual reason for my ignorance, though.

  “Then how can I really fault you for it?” she says rather logically. “Jacque did learn that you were right about the Rhinoceros Beetle Horn, too. I think if you didn’t show up when you did, I would be a blanket popsicle.” She laughs at the end, and I can’t help but laugh in surprise myself.

  “Well, thank you for being understanding,” I say after we are done laughing. “I think Jessamyn might have killed me if she were around to hear my admission,” I add after thinking about the tiny but somewhat scary woman.

  “I doubt it. You saved her blankets from freezing along with me. She has an irrational love for anything soft,” Veronica says with another laugh before turning to me. “How often do we have to perform the [Paired Cultivation] to keep me alive? Do you know if the liquid I am holding is safe to use for breakthroughs?”

  I flinch back, realizing that we didn’t really get into the details afterward. I remember we did talk about a great deal. Still, in retrospect, it was more me avoiding questions about how I learned the technique than about what the [Paired Cultivation] skill could actually do.

  “Oh, yeah, you can use the qi for breakthroughs, but I guess the more you use it, the more you will need to prevent wasting, which would mean we’d have to perform [Paired Cultivation] more often,” I surmise. Then I scratch my ear and add, “Well, I can also teach you my circulation method, which should help your breakthroughs happen more safely. If you want to learn?”

  “I would like you to explain it to me, certainly,” Veronica says, her eyes on me and her hand unconsciously going to her nose. I grimace at the gesture, and she sees it. “I’m sorry, Jeff. I just don’t know how ready I am to smell like you do,” she admits as her cheeks flush.

  “I do get it, Veronica, but I can assure you it isn’t as bad when you’re just working on your Dantian. I am working on a few other skills that are causing this”—I cough into a hand and gesture at my entire body subconsciously—“wonderful aroma.”

  Veronica smiles and pinches her nose while waving her off hand under it. She’s smiling, which reduces the sting. Standing, she moves to collect the now-steaming pitcher of water.

  Chapter 47

  September 6th, 151 AR

  Jeff Turle

  “We may be able to help, but you will need to become a guild member,” Darren states flatly from an armchair across the coffee table from me. I rub my ear. Maybe telling Veronica about the pair-for-life thing wasn’t a great idea. As soon as Darren found out, he became rather insistent on membership.

  We’re still in her room, and all of us are sitting on chairs and the couch in the sitting area. My back is to the door, and I can hear attendants coming and going as some food and other objects are placed on a table to my right.

  The food on those platters has my mouth watering and my stomach feeling acutely empty. Neatly rolled meats and cheeses with crackers dominate one. Another is filled with similar delicacies placed between two baguette slices and then clearly baked so the cheese and sauces ooze from the sides. Many other trays are covered, but the aromas suggest delicious spices and rich ingredients I never even knew I was missing. But honestly, the whole spread makes me think of Crash and then Mur and just brings me back to the whole Training Room predicament.

  “You can’t just help me get my house back?” I plead, hoping he will let it drop. I can’t join the guild, as that would force me to somewhat abandon the Training Room. If they press me, I will fall back on the off-site member offer that Veronica made. At least with that, I can still run dungeons with Mur at night.

  “What is so special about that house?” Jacque interjects with his French accent. He is sitting on the same couch as me and to my left. I glance at him and bite my tongue inside my mouth. I have an answer ready for this. I was just hoping I didn’t have to use it. It uses some of their earlier assumptions but is a partial lie and invites future problems.

  “My subspace is anchored there,” I state simply and plainly into the silence of the room. The creaking as everyone leans forward in their seats startles me. This kind of attention is exactly what I was worrying about.

  “How strong is this item?” Jacque begins, but he is interrupted by Darren.

  “You really should join our guild, Jeff.”

  “Can we unbind it and move it here?” Jacque follows up.

  Many voices shout guild invitations from behind me, and I spin on the couch. While I heard the door open and close several times, I believed it to be a single person coming and going with the food. The sheer number of people standing or sitting near the door surprises me, but I manage to hold up my hands after a time, and the shotgun questions come to a stop. Did someone just shout, “Is Veronica married to him?” I look around the room at each individual, and everyone is looking back at me. How many people are in here? I take a long moment to collect myself. I don’t know any of these people. Why are they all in here?

  “The subspace isn’t all that powerful, Darren. I may join your guild in the future, and unfortunately the anchor would burn up if I tried to move it again so soon. . .” I manage to answer all the questions despite my tight throat. In almost all aspects, it’s the truth, but it leaves off just how special a subspace I own. Seeing the excitement about it from everyone present makes me realize why Ride or Die was keen to possess it. I hold my breath and flick my gaze over the small crowd of onlookers. I don’t understand why they’re here.

  “That’s why you need the house for now?” Darren mumbles, returning my attention to the sitting area. At my glance, he looks to Jacque. “Perhaps we can offer him some protection for the anchor as well?”

  “Yes, that seems prudent to protect the space. What of the guild invite?” Jacque says, recovering from the information. “If you join, we can maybe intervene on your behalf. Under the right circumstances. . .”

  “What do you mean?” I ask cautiously, unsure what circumstances would allow them to help me.

  “As a new guild recruit, we can speak on your behalf with the authority of the guild and ask this group.
. . Ride or Die?” Darren begins and, at my nod of confirmation, continues, “We can ask Ride or Die to leave your property. Unfortunately, since you don’t technically own it, and given everything you have told us, I believe Jacque is implying something else.”

  “Do not play coy, Darren. You know what I am saying,” Jacque says, heat tinging his words. “They are animals who killed another group of adventurers—” Darren holds up both hands and looks around the room pointedly.

  “I’m sorry, Buckies, I know you wished to greet our newest recruit, but I think it’s time everyone but Veronica, Jacque, Jeff, and myself leaves,” Darren states as he stands up and nods politely. He then transfers a glare to Jacque, which leaves me wondering what direction this conversation is heading.

  There are a few mutters as the ‘Buckies’ file out of the room. I’m still uncomfortable that they might have been behind me during Veronica’s recap about [Paired Cultivation]. I feel a tingle crawl over my skin. Were they trying to learn the technique themselves? I start counting as they leave. Sixteen people were in here, including the four of us that are left? It’s a strange sensation to feel self-conscious and nervous about a situation that is over, right? My breathing is shallow and fast, and I bear down on it, trying to bring it back under my control.

  My brain produces static for a terrifying moment. What if I divulged a secret during that conversation? I’ve got plenty of those that I wouldn’t want some random people to know about. I massage my ears with both hands and only look up when Darren claps his hands. “Jeff, are you ill?” Veronica asks, looking at me with a tilt to her head. “You’re very green in the face.”

  “I’m fine,” I mutter as I shake my head to clear it. “Just not a huge fan of crowds.” The look on Veronica’s face changes, and the worry I think I saw morphs into something else. It’s too complicated an emotion for me to interpret, so I ignore it. “Please, I missed what everyone was saying after the people left.”

  “That’s okay, Jeff. We should’ve asked you before we sent out the announcement. When we were informed you’d returned, we were certain you had decided to join us,” Darren says sheepishly. “We didn’t think that the adventuring group would continue to bother you after your debt was paid off.”

  “Well, they were going to kill me for a subspace item to begin with,” I say, finally admitting the entire truth to the people present. “I told them that first day that I have access to a subspace, which was why they took me on as a Sherpa.”

  Jacque shoots to his feet and throws his hands in the air. I feel the scrutiny of Darren and Veronica as they both narrow their eyes and try to bore holes through me. I bite my cheek but realize that I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sure each person in this room has a few secrets that they keep to themselves. In fact, I would bet that plenty of cultivation techniques, spells, and skills aren’t something that people share openly. My embarrassment turns to glaring of my own.

  “Jacque, sit down,” Darren demands sternly after a moment.

  “But the boy is an idiot! Does he not know how valuable a subspace item is in this world? I’m unsure if I want to get involved any longer,” Jacque shouts back, his French accent thicker than ever before. My eyebrows shoot up, and I open my mouth, but Darren points at me and stands.

  “So what now, Jacque? Do you think a group of adventurers had the right to try to kill him over an item?” Darren asks pointedly, his questions hinting at something I don’t understand. From the change that comes over Jacque, I get the feeling that they weren’t questions at all. The Frenchman brings a hand to his forehead and plops down beside Veronica on the couch, paling. After a few moments, Jacque spins his hand in a ‘continue without me’ motion.

  “All right, Jeff, we seem to have gone off track. Is there anything else you care to share with us?” Darren says as he turns back to me, his face a bit red. There must have been something about the exchange between Jacque and Darren, but what could it be? I glance at Veronica and, while her head is turned to Jacque, her eyes are distant and unfocused. Her mind is clearly somewhere else.

  I shake my head vigorously. Not that I am willing to share with them, no. Especially with the volatility in the room.

  “Before everyone left,” Darren continues, “Jacque was suggesting that we take care of Ride or Die more permanently.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask. I already tried to report them for their crimes, but I didn’t have proof. How would we— The insinuation hits me hard. I feel my mouth fall open and my stomach lurch.

  “Yes,” Darren states. “If we were to go ask them to leave you alone, there is a high chance that they would listen, and you would never be bothered by them again. However, groups like this exist all over the Northern Territory. If they aren’t trying to kill and steal from you—they will just be targeting some other poor beginner.”

  “Scum like this should be wiped away,” Jacque says into his forearm as he massages his brow.

  “I still think that’s extreme. If one or both of you witness them trying to harm Jeff, wouldn’t that count in the court?” Veronica interjects, playing the voice of reason—at least, as far as I am concerned. Then again, I considered killing them for revenge a few times myself. And one of the most significant reasons for trying to turn them in was to prevent them from preying on others. . .

  My brain spins itself in circles, countering one line of thinking, which opens another. Do Ride or Die truly deserve to die for their actions? They did kill people right in front of me. . . and then probably only kept me alive long enough to escape because they couldn’t find my subspace item. I nod at Darren, and he solemnly nods back. Veronica’s lips pale as she presses them into a line, and Jacque removes his hand from his face, which allows me to view the anger simmering in his eyes.

  “Look, this is the tentative plan,” Jacque whispers, still pale of skin but now wild in his eyes. He begins outlining the circumstances that would allow powerful guild members to kill someone threatening a weaker member while following the law. I blink at the simplicity and yet specific nature of the idea.

  Only one question remains. Will it work?

  Chapter 48

  September 6th, 151 AR

  Jeff Turle

  It’s early afternoon, and the sun is high in the sky. I glance up at it as I approach the guard post. My qi stores are full, and I can’t be sure if that’s causing my sweat or if it’s from the upcoming confrontation. Darren and Jacque explained the plan, but the second thoughts started as soon as I left the building with only a broken button. The chapter heads claim the button is unique—some sort of item that will let them locate me anywhere in Toronto. Yet, spinning it in my hand as I exit the guard post, it sure doesn’t feel like anything other than the trash it represents. For the third time in as many steps, I glance behind myself. I can’t see them following me, which I guess is the point, but to put this much trust in others is still a lot for me.

  I swallow a mouthful of saliva with every step that brings me closer to my ramshackle roof and basement. Air sucks in and out of my nose, and I jump off the street every time someone passes me in either direction. Am I walking slowly? I guess I must be because of the amount of foot traffic that seems to be passing me.

  The first thing I see when the ruined house comes into view is five people standing in front of it. I can tell by the long lankiness of one outline and another outlines gestures that those are Tin and Boyle. Another one could be Esmerelda or Markus, which brings me as close as I’ve been on this walk to turning tail and calling this off. The other two figures don’t fit at all with what I was expecting to see. One seems to be a child, and the second seems familiar, but I can’t place him at this distance.

  The closer I get, the more the taller, out-of-place figure comes into view, and I realize that it’s my neighbor, Larry. His hair still looks like he attempted to cut it himself, big blond patches sticking out all over the place. Yet, once I identify him, I notice that the smaller, childlike shadow isn’t a kid at all. No, it’s
definitely a shorter man with relatively ratty clothing and dark black stains on a great deal of it.

  Willow Wasnewski

  Rank: D-8

  “Ahh, the squatter is back,” Tin says. His voice is overly pleasant. “Larry was just informing us that someone was staying here.” My eyes are on the shorter man, though. The name is familiar, but I can’t place where I might have heard it. Still, I’m more fixated on the black stains, which appear similar to my abscess sweats. If I can get closer and take a whiff, I’ll know for sure. Tin doesn’t miss my scrutiny.

  “I see you’ve never met Old Man Willow, the deed holder of this house. Almost died when the roof came down, right?” Tin adds as Boyle and Esmerelda sneer at me. Like that, the name clicks into place from when Larry told me that same story. I take my eyes off the man as I realize I’m not paying enough attention to the real threat. I look behind Tin and the other two. I search under the roof for the two figures that haunt my nightmares but find no deeper shadows among the timbers. Tin smiles knowingly at me like he knows exactly whom I was looking for. To my shock, he turns to Willow, though.

  “Thank you very much for selling. We needed a new headquarters closer to the Suburb, and we recently came into a bit of money,” Tin announces.

  “I don’t know what you plan to do with it,” Willow croaks, his voice somehow not fitting his near-adolescent body. He continues, “Here’s the deed, but if it falls on you, I take no responsibility. Larry here’s my witness.”

  Larry looks at Willow and then the others before nodding. Afterward, Larry even peeks at me and twists his mouth into an expression I can’t read. Does he feel bad about something?