Life in the North: An Apocalyptic LitRPG (The System Apocalypse Book 1)

by Tao Wong

  “System designated fort. Created at locations of importance outside of a city, generally a building that commands significant views or a strategic location. Considering we’re about 45 minutes out from Whitehorse on the only major highway in? I’d say both. Now, go on and touch the crystal,” Ali replies wearily.

  Would you like to take Command of the Carcross Cutoff Fort?

  (Y/N)

  Congratulations! You are now Commander of the Carcross Cutoff Fort

  Population: 1/1

  Assigned Guards: 0/20

  Structural Integrity: 68/100

  Upgrades: None

  First Fort Won!

  Bonus +3000 Experience Awarded

  “So what now?” I frown, staring at the upgrade option.

  “Nothing, now we leave. Next sentient who comes in will take the place, but at least you’ll get a notification,” Ali says, sounding bored.

  “But…” Just leaving this place right after I won it is frustrating, but he’s right. It’s not as if I’m going to guard it, I still have to get to Mount Lorne and Carcross. I grit my teeth and stomp out, assuaging my feelings by pulling out my new status sheet.

  Status Screen

  Name

  John Lee

  Class

  Erethran Honor Guard

  Race

  Human (Male)

  Level

  10

  Titles

  None

  Health

  510

  Stamina

  510

  Mana

  450

  Status

  Normal

  Attributes

  Strength

  33 (50)

  Agility

  50 (70)

  Constitution

  51 (75)

  Perception

  14

  Intelligence

  45 (60)

  Willpower

  45 (60)

  Charisma

  14

  Luck

  10

  Skills

  Stealth

  6

  Wilderness Survival

  3

  Unarmed Combat

  6

  Knife Proficiency

  5

  Athletics

  5

  Observe

  5

  Cooking

  1

  Sense Danger

  4

  Jury-rigging

  2

  Explosives

  1

  Blade Mastery

  6

  PAV Combatics

  4

  Energy Rifles

  3

  Meditation

  5

  Mana Manipulation

  1

  Class Skills

  None (5 Locked)

  Spells

  Minor Healing

  Perks

  Spirit Companion

  Level 3

  Prodigy (Subterfuge)

  N/A

  Damn, that’s a big difference from when I started. I’m not even remotely within human normal anymore, with reaction times and strength that are off the charts. I don’t even feel the weight of my armor or seem to run out of stamina doing normal things. At this rate, there are only a few more levels before I finally unlock my class skills and after seeing Mikito use hers, I really can’t wait. On the other hand, it feels like I’m not utilising the changes in my body properly, my actions themselves jittery in the extreme. I wonder if it’s my low Perception – I’m not able to properly perceive what I need to do and what I’m doing, especially with the way my body is moving.

  “Ali? Recommendations?” I enquire, waving to the Stat Screen as I get ready, the slight hitch and a barely audible grinding making me grimace as Sabre switches form. Damn, but I’m going to have to get this fixed.

  “Perception. Maybe you’d get a hint or two next time before you get shot,” Ali answers immediately.

  I grimace but have to agree. I dump half my points into it and then, on a whim, I put another 3 into Luck. It’s such a nebulous stat, but from what I understand, it affects minor things in the System in my favor. A shot that does more damage than it would normally, maybe more or better System assisted Loot drops. It should also reduce the likelihood that someone with high Luck bends the System to their favor. More Luck doesn’t seem to hurt anyway.

  The moment I confirm it, the world shifts. It’s so startling I begin to lose control of Sabre and even as I realise that, I correct it. It happens faster than an eyeblink, perception, understanding and reaction. Oh my, this is going to be fun.

  Chapter 9

  “Ali, information dump time. How come the System designated the Cutoff as a fort if no one bought it before?” I enquire as I ride down the winding mountain road. On both sides is untouched, unclaimed wilderness as far as the eye can see. Only occasionally is there a road that swings out to a lone farm or suburb, but each time Ali just shakes his head slightly, indicating a lack of human life.

  “The building was there and it was a strategic spot. Seems like the System decided it was worthy of being picked,” Ali shrugs, disinterested in the conversation.

  I’m not as easy to put off “But why? I thought we had to buy locations.”

  “Settlements certainly. However, forts aren’t the same – they are freestanding fortifications. You are limited to guard, security and observation upgrades, which generally limit what you can do drastically. Of course, you can always buy other upgrades like an armory and the like, but it’s always more expensive” Ali says.

  “Didn’t look like much of a fort to me, just a normal building,” I point out.

  “Sure, that’s because no one has upgraded it yet. Get some walls built or buy the upgrades and it’ll start looking like a real fort,” Ali replies.

  “Wait, we can build walls? Won’t the System ignore them?” After all, it’s ignored most of our other buildings.

  “Nope. You guys are all System-claimed now, so what you do from now on matters to the System,” says Ali.

  No use getting angry over this, but I can’t help but feel it. The System this, the System that. It makes decisions and discards everything that we ever did before it came, remaking us and our world without care. I find myself grinding my teeth and force myself to breathe out as I push the anger aside. In control once more, I ask lightly, keeping my voice calm. Or at least I think it’s calm, “That mean those non-fighter classes we found, they could fix up the cars?”

  Ali nods, “Sure, if they use System registered materials, no reason it wouldn’t work. You’d either have to salvage or work the materials from start or buy from the Shop, and if they wanted to Mana engines and batteries, they’d have to get their skills up.”

  Good news. I lean into the next turn, falling silent for now as I scan for more trouble. Even driving at speed, I see more than I used to - my increased perceptions able to take notice of more. I spot our local, non-transformed wildlife – squirrels, ground squirrels, a fox, occasional birds. I spot a few transformed and new animals, but none that are a danger to me so I don’t stop. I came out to check for survivors after all, not kill monsters.

  Mount Lorne is a bust, the various small residences and communities that cluster around the community centre empty. They leave another mystery though – unlike many of the houses in Riverdale, many show signs of an organised exit. Doors closed, windows shut, no damaged or broken buildings to be seen and no blood. It is almost as if they evacuated somewhere else, those that weren’t attacked immediately at least. Did they make it into Whitehorse already? A puzzle for sure, but not one that I can solve right now.

  I look up the time and note it’s 7pm already, glad that my helmet and Sabre came with a clock. The longer spring hours in the North throw me for a curve, daylight lingering till 10pm these days. If you’d asked me, I wouldn’t have guessed it no more than 4 at most. A dangerous little trick the North likes to play, making inexperienced backpackers push themselves till late
at night, unaware of how long they have exerted themselves.

  It’s another twenty minutes to Carcross at speed, but I take it a little slower and get there in half-an-hour. As I begin to pass the world’s smallest desert on my left, Ali pops back into life, finishing up the game of cards he has been playing to talk to me. “Humans. Lots of humans. At least a few hundred.”

  I grin at his words, relaxing. Thank the gods, not every small community was being wiped off the map. I slow down anyway since I figure whoever is there is going to be jumpy and I’m glad I do because I’m so not ready for what I see.

  Just before I get to town proper, I run into a barrier made up of cars, trucks and stacked furniture that reaches all across the road and down to my right as far as I can see, probably all the way to the river. The town itself is built adjacent to the river, spreading out from near the bridge and along the West side of the highway. From what I can see, where they have run out of cars and furniture, they have dug a trench on one side and just piled the extra earth on the other, shoring the entire thing up with occasional felled trees. Quite a feat if they have it all the way down to the river since it’s at least a good kilometer away.

  I slow down and creep up to the barrier, waiting to be challenged. I don’t have to wait long.

  “Who’s there?” A voice shouts in the slightly slurred accent of one of the First Nations. Tagish probably considering we’re in Carcross.

  “John Lee. I’m here from Whitehorse,” I shout back, touching my helmet to make it disappear. I hear a gasp behind the barrier even from this distance. I guess the disappearing helmet trick is still kinda new.

  “You human?” the voice continues to question.

  “Yes!” I grimace, shaking my head at the question. I can hear the arguments behind as someone else points out that’s a stupid question. A hurried discussion happens even as they send one of their own to get someone in charge.

  “Who’s the Greatest Hockey Player ever?” This time, at least, the question makes sense.

  “Gretzky of course.” I snort, shaking my head. “Look, I don’t mean any harm, I just came to see what I could do to help.”

  “‘Right, sorry about that. Just come up slow now. We got guns,” my unseen conversation partner says. I comply readily enough, riding my bike closer and then am forced to wait till they pull the makeshift gate aside to ride in.

  Inside the barrier, Carcross has not changed much. A single lonesome gas station connected to the motel and gift shop is a short distance away on the left while to the right, the Tagish First Nation’s office building, a church and a variety of other residences spread out to the river that the entire community nestles against. Surprisingly, everything looks pretty normal though there are guards standing around me and further, all of them looking around with that wary expression I’ve come to recognise of people under siege. The guards on closer inspection are low-leveled, all in the single digits and have a new appellation next to each of them – Warrior, Riflemen, Guard and more.

  “Ali, what’s with the new information?”

  “New information that I can display. Not super useful all the time, and I’m translating it best as I can from what the System gives me, but there you go,” Ali replies, gesturing to the Status bars.

  “Evening. Sorry about the reception, but we’ve had to be careful,” an older brunette woman with a pixie haircut walks up to me and interrupts any further conversation with Ali. She’s dressed in a pair of jeans and plaid shirt and could be generously called hefty, though she moves her weight with grace and carries the giant hammer over her shoulder with ease. The Status bar over her head reads Melissa O’Keefe, Level 38 Protector. “I’m Melissa.”

  “John,” I take the proffered hand and watch as a crowd begins to gather, coming from the gas station and the office building, consisting mostly of children and teenagers. “This place is… impressive.”

  “Thanks. If you don’t mind, there are a few people who’d like to talk to you,” Melissa says and waves me to the Tagish First Nation’s offices. I park Sabre there once I can and after a moment’s hesitation grab the rifle from its holster on the bike. Looks like everyone is armed in this town.

  The meeting hall is buzzing, people moving with purpose. Random snatches of conversation that I overhear give a sense of organisation, of people working towards a common goal, something that was missing in Whitehorse. Surprisingly, I notice that everyone here has a few levels, a vast change from the majority in Whitehorse. I don’t get to linger though as I’m directed towards a boardroom where three others await – a gaunt, tall teenage Wizard, a matronly First Nation Shaman elder and a local member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) still in his uniform.

  The last makes me pause, a part of me wondering about the lack of RCMP members in Whitehorse. I’d have thought they’d be in the front-lines of this. I frown, and then push the thought aside. Something to look into when I’m back if I really was that curious. In the meantime, introductions seem to have been made for me, but I’ve missed it. Ah well, not as if I need to remember their names, what with Ali providing their Status bars. Interestingly enough, the kid is the highest level at 36, the constable is a level 34 Guardian and the elder only a level 8 Shaman.

  “So Mr Lee, you came from Whitehorse,” Constable Mike Gadsby says, his heavy Francophone accent taking me a moment to decipher. “Can you tell us about the state of the city? We have had no word.”

  I nod and settle into a chair, getting ready for a long talk. We start out with Whitehorse and then I get a briefing on Carcross before we range back to the System. Once they realise I’m a fount of information, the kid takes over the conversation, sending probing and insightful questions my way. More than once Ali has to provide me with the answers to questions that the kid raises.

  When the first message came, quite a few of the residents of Carcross had congregated at the RCMP’s office. That meant that when monsters spawned, there was much less ground to cover, allowing the RCMP to organise and protect them. In the meantime, it seemed the kid - Jason Cope - had convinced his Mum, Ms O’Keefe that he knew what he was talking about and then dragged her along on a monster hunt to ‘power-level’ themselves, picking on the various lower leveled monsters that cropped up. Working together with their neighbors, they quickly managed to not only level but work out the party system and proceed to sweep the surroundings repeatedly, keeping the residents safe and gaining experience constantly. When an initial monster horde had rushed the crowd, it was only the timely intervention by the O’Keefe’s that managed to keep the casualties to the minimum.

  In the meantime, I learnt about the Party System in more detail. Seems it was both obvious and annoying, much like most of the System. I could make a party at any time with anyone I wanted, though I could only have one party. A party shared experience to some extent, but only if party members actively helped during a fight. The actual division of experience varied depending on the contribution offered and included damage done, healing or buffs provided or just general support. It seemed that disparate levels in the party meant that people gained experience in different ways and the System actually registered groups that moved together as unofficial Parties whether we wanted it to or not.

  In addition, the other thing I picked up was that it was quite viable to increase levels outside of fighting if you were a non-fighter based class. Leveling in those cases focused on the development of their class skills, with increases in class skills providing experience that then increased their overall Levels. In addition, it seemed non-fighter characters seemed to gain Quests at a much faster rate which were mostly focused on developing those skills. It was one of the reasons for the levels I had seen as everyone worked on developing their skills and completing quests in Carcross to grow stronger. They had people working on the various Loot drops right now, making makeshift armor, weapons and even cooking using the materials. Amazingly enough, bodies that were worked by the proper Class could even generate additional materials ove
r and above what the System gave. While they couldn’t keep the city itself safe from random spawning, everyone had leveled up enough that your average monster mutation was less of a danger.

  We talk for hours; the ubiquitous meat stew and bannock being brought in while we continue the conversation. They probe me for more information continuously, pausing only when they learn of my time in Haines Junction to relay the news of the tragedy. By the time they’ve finished pumping me, it’s past midnight and darkness has finally fallen. I’m offered a place to stay which I take gratefully, happy to let someone else keep an eye out for potential trouble while I rest.

  Chapter 10

  “Interesting,” I look around the automotive shop that’s been turned into a community workshop, various residents already hard at work at their respective stations this early in the morning. I’m sipping on the coffee that’s been offered to me, eyeing what the crafters are up to. 4 of the workbenches seem to be devoted to armor making, 2 working on various insect carapaces and another 2 on leather. Another pair of benches seem to be creating makeshift melee weapons while the last is the most interesting, a broken-down energy rifle laid out next to a normal gunpowder rifle. Soldering irons and electronic equipment are laid out next to it.

  “That’s mine,” Perry, my guide, waves to the bench I’m eyeing. “I’ve been focused on trying to replicate their laser guns, but haven’t had any luck. Got a level in Energy Weapons at least when I took it apart.”

  Ali snorts floating above the disassembled weapon, “It’s like watching a monkey try to build a spaceship with a stick.”

  “You probably need a few more levels,” I reply diplomatically. I’m still impressed, all things considered, and I shake Perry’s hand as I take my leave.