Stars Awoken: A LitRPG Apocalypse (The System Apocalypse Book 7)

by Tao Wong

I lean forward, asking questions. Sometimes about people I know, like Colonel Weir and the Champions. Other times about the politics on Earth. And for a time, I forget about the pressures of my quest and just enjoy the Truinnar’s company.

  But all too soon, we have to call an end to our visit. The Shop isn’t meant for long meetings, and the longer we stay, the more expensive it’ll be. Still, by the time I port back into Irvina, I find myself smiling. For all that has happened, life manages to find a way to go on.

  As good as his word, Draco sends me a document listing my shortcomings and an analysis of the battle videos. As much as he downplayed the gains I could make, Draco listed a significant number of mistakes. Of course, some of them are so small that I’m not sure how I’d ever fix them—stepping a little too soon here, dodging when I should roll there—while others are more helpful and less precise.

  Over the next few days, I fall into a familiar routine, but the problem of insufficient immigrants continues to bother me. I finally end up arranging a meeting with Katherine in her new offices.

  Set in the second ring of the capital, the new diplomatic offices are part of a complex of buildings that ring a rare oasis of greenery. Well, vegetation at least. The offices for Earth take up a portion of one of the high rises with residential quarters situated at the top of the building. It’s expensive, ritzy, and—in my eyes—no better than the simple guild quarters we stay in. Really, after a certain point, the levels of difference in comfort become too small to really count.

  “Katherine.” I sweep my eyes over the diminutive lady’s form behind the large oak desk. I’m slightly amused to see an Earthen affectation, but the desk seems to be part of a concerted effort to give the entire area a human vibe. Though… “The Scream?” I incline my head toward the infamous painting.

  “A personal favorite,” Katherine says with a sad smile. “The Shop formed in the middle of the museum in Oslo, leaving the works untouched. It took a little negotiation, but we managed to retrieve it from the Movanna.”

  “Riiight,” I drawl, not entirely certain what to say. The loss we’ve experienced in culture, in people, still aches.

  I have to admit, compared to Katherine, I’m a bit of an uncultured boor. My favorite pieces of culture were mostly preserved by the System. Movies, anime, the text of novels. But I can see how the loss of priceless paintings, statues, and even architecture could hurt. It’s nice to see at least some things have managed to survive. And maybe, in time, we might be able to get some back. Or create new forms of art.

  “But you didn’t come here to talk about art,” Katherine says.

  I flash her a grateful smile as she gets the meeting back on track. “Yeah.” I sit down without prompting. “Have you been keeping track of our numbers?”

  “The Quest numbers? Yes. Disappointing.”

  “I’m doing my best,” I say defensively.

  “Of course. I didn’t mean it as an insult. But even Earth wants more Adventurers now. Especially if we can direct them to the right cities.”

  I snort slightly. How the worm turns. We fought to keep them out, and now we’re desperate to find more of them to deal with dungeons, to help provide normalcy to the population, and because more Galactics means more money.

  “I’m assuming you’ve got ideas?” I say.

  “I do. I needed to confirm our budget and some other matters, but here’s what I’m thinking…” Katherine says, leaning forward.

  Hours later, we come to the end of our little tete-a-tete. While most of it was Katherine talking at me, I tried to provide my own feedback on what could be done. Over time, we refined the initial ideas, our implementation, and eventually our reaction to what we knew was likely to come from it.

  At the end, I find myself offering Katherine my hand as I stand. “You know we’re going to piss people off with this, right?”

  Katherine stares at my offered handshake, raising an elegant eyebrow until I drop it awkwardly. “Of course. But it’s why you fought so hard to get us a seat on the Council, right? A chance to make a difference on our own planet.”

  “Yeah…” A warm flush of emotions runs through me. Gratitude, happiness, and even a little fear. Because what we’re about to do…

  “Our choice, John.”

  “I know.” I acknowledge her words with a nod. “How long?”

  “Give me a day.”

  “Perfect.”

  I wave goodbye to Katherine as I exit the room, pushing aside my concerns. As Draco pointed out, I can’t do everything myself. And pushing aside those who want to join me… well, it’s self-defeating. So I take the help and bite my tongue because we’re all adults.

  A day later, I’m standing before a suddenly larger crowd. It’s not a massive difference, but there are nearly forty people in the room—so many that we’ve run out of chairs and a few are standing in the back. The mix of aliens is different too, with a larger proportion of low-level Combat Classers. Wiza, who’s been my main point of contact, looks elated, though he shoots a suspicious gaze at Harry, who has made an appearance for the first time in ages. Still, the Kobold pulls his lips into a wide grin. He’s happy. For now.

  At first, everything flows, the well-honed speech and show-and-tell portion going over as well as it usually does. There are a few chuckles, a few gasps as I show off the monsters that can be found, a few snorts of derision and moments of wonder as we pan over cities. We’ve honed my speech to focus on the common questions, making our presentation better and more effective. But when we’ve completed the rote presentation, things start heating up.

  “I received a System advertisement saying that if we sign up with the Earth Council, you’ll be conducting assisted dungeon runs in Irvina prior to departure. Is that true?” This comes from one of the Combat Classers, the insectoid rubbing two of its four arms in an unconscious act of nervousness and hope.

  “Yes. I’m already part of Tig’s guild, so we’ll use my time slots with them to do the runs. Worst-case scenario, if that doesn’t work, we’ll pay for a dungeon use. Also, once you get to Earth, you’ll be slotted into one of our regular city patrols if you wish, which will allow you to gain experience and Credits at the same time,” I say.

  “What?” Wiza says, jaw dropping and his tongue rolling out. “What Earth Council? What advertisement?”

  Wiza’s words get a few looks of pity and disgust. I kind of feel bad for the Kobold, considering it’s not his fault we didn’t tell him.

  “And no Serf contracts?” someone else asks.

  “None. Ali?”

  A moment later, everyone in the room has new notification screens to review. They list the details of the contract Katherine has slaved over, tidying up the language and the necessary safeguards. That the entire thing is relatively short means the audience gets through the entire thing quickly.

  “You’ll provide us with housing, food, and a small stipend, along with materials for our production?” This exclamation comes from a Leatherworker, one whose pointed fingers must make punching holes to sew up leather super easy. I wonder if he wears multiple thimbles when he needs to work with care?

  “Yes. Though only once you arrive on Earth. And we’re going to restrict you from taking part in dungeon runs, at least until you’ve paid back your plane ticket. Shuttle. Spaceship,” I correct myself quickly. “Obviously, the deal’s slightly different for the Combat Classers. But after you’ve paid off the initial cost, you’re welcome to join the protected runs or the patrols.”

  “What are you doing?” Wiza snarls, rushing up in front of me and revealing his teeth. He arches his back, looming over me as if he can intimidate me.

  That lasts until I release my Aura and meet his gaze, staring down the salesman.

  He shrinks back a bit, letting out an involuntary whimper. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because we’re humans. And a Dungeon World,” I say. “Now. Next question?”

  “I’m a Technomancer who focuses on gravity fields. You going to su
pply me the tech I need?”

  “Uhh… Ali?” I look desperately at the Spirit.

  Ali snorts, fading into sight in front of everyone and getting a few gasps before he goes on to answer questions. Wiza, now ignored, looks between the two of us before he slinks out to report to his superiors.

  Yeah. The shitstorm is coming.

  “You look happy,” Harry sends over the party chat.

  To that, I can only shrug. But this? This feels right.

  “Evening, VG,” I say, nodding to Draco. A little surprising to find him waiting at the bottom of the entrance of our housing, but only a little.

  “We need to speak, Redeemer,” Draco says.

  “My residence?”

  “No. I’ve secured a meeting room.”

  Draco leads the way into a portion of the guild housing that I’ve been to, a place I can only describe as a truncated business center. In the meeting room, Draco triggers a number of security measures to cut off outside communication and viewing before he pulls out another little device and waves it around. There are a few cracks and buzzes—even one on me—before the surveillance bugs surrounding us die.

  “Ugh. On me?” I say with a snarl.

  My Skill and the Brumwell Necklace of Shadow Intent might make my actions harder to track, but if a bug was on me… I sigh and make a mental note to go shopping for a toy like Draco’s. There’s no point in hiding from Skills if everything is getting recorded in a completely separate way. Thankfully, nothing I’ve been doing needs to be that secret. Still annoying.

  “You still have a lot to learn.” Draco leans forward, fixing me with those slitted eyes of his, a spark of anger flaring in them. “Along with the matter of asking permission first.”

  “Permission?”

  “I have received numerous complaints about you offering to bring individuals of the seventh ring to the dungeon. Under the guild’s name,” Draco says.

  “I said if I could get your permission,” I protest slightly. Not too hard, because I’m not dumb enough to not realize that rumors and an individual’s selective hearing could easily distort the message. Which, I’ll admit, did come into our considerations.

  “And you did not feel it wise to confirm with me before you announced the matter to the planet?” Draco growls.

  “Well, I thought about it. But things were moving rather fast once we made up our mind. And we weren’t sure how desirable the entire offer would be.”

  “I should kick you out of the guild for this,” Draco says. “What makes you think you can do this?”

  “Guild regulation umm…”

  “137. Under Adventuring parties and guests. Part four,” Ali helpfully supplies.

  “Right. I may, at my discretion, party with other affiliated guilds so long as I’m willing to take full responsibility for partying outside of the guild. This includes entrance to dungeons. The only exception is if said individuals are not registered,” I said. “And since we’re going to have them register with NAGA provisionally, with myself as sponsor, it should be fine.”

  It’s a workaround of course. The immigrants will be marked as the lowest Adventurer level possible—G—and even then, only provisionally. I’m required to provide them a significant amount of collateral too, but so long as I get their Levels and combat ability to F, I’ll get the Credit deposit back. In many cases, a single dungeon run would be sufficient to prove that they had an F-level of ability.

  That Combat Classers from the seventh ring have never done this before in large numbers is more due to the cost of joining NAGA—or the restrictions in any other guild—than any lack of imagination on their parts. It doesn’t help that NAGA doesn’t have open slots in the dungeons, which means that NAGA entrants either have to slot themselves in when time comes up or find another guild party to join. Not as much of an issue for me, as a Master Classer with friends, but more of an issue for an outsider from the sixth or seventh ring.

  “Oh. Of course,” Draco says. “I never realized you were a rules lawyer. You do know the guild does not get involved in faction politics? Or annoy large sections of our potential customer base!”

  “It’s not that big a deal,” I say with a frown.

  By my side, Ali snorts slightly as he spins in circles. On my minimap, I can see how Harry paces the corridor outside, obviously dissatisfied with being kept out of this conversation. But it’s a guild matter and he’s not part of the guild.

  “I doubt we’ll get more than a hundred people taking up this offer,” I say.

  “You doubt,” Draco says sarcastically. “Are you being naïve? You are directly challenging the established mode of operation. Not only are you offering to train up the lowest Levels, you’ve offered those in the fifteen and higher range direct tickets to Earth with few strings!”

  “Not a few. We’ve got them working for our city patrols for a good year, or until they pay back their transportation ticket with appropriate interest,” I say.

  “Exactly!” Draco snaps. “Your offer isn’t just fair; it’s downright generous. There are no margins for error. Your Contract has no insurance or coverage if they die! You don’t even have a secondary signee, so all your funds are lost the moment they perish.”

  “That’s unlikely to happen. We’ve gotten rather good at keeping our people from the really hard stuff. It’s not like the first few years. Now we’ve got rapid response teams and experienced group leaders situated throughout our cities. Hell, some of the teams even have ‘porters like me.”

  “Death still happens.”

  “Then I’d say they’ve already paid enough, no?” I say, leaning forward. “If they die while protecting our cities, it seems that wiping out a little debt is the least we can offer them. Anyway, why do you care?”

  “I don’t. Except everyone seems intent on whining at me about it. Your actions disrupt every small- to mid-sized guild or Serf-company that has use for these higher-Level Combat Classers,” Draco says. “Our guild might not care. After all, we’re looking for Elites and we offer the services and benefits to attract them. But the small- and mid-sized guilds? They thrive off these low-Levelers. That’s how they make their money and fill their ranks. And now, you’re offering to pull them all to Earth.”

  “Not all. Hell, I’m pretty sure we won’t even get ten percent of everyone available.” I smile slightly, opening my hands wide. “But yes, that’s kind of the point.”

  “I repeat. Why the hell shouldn’t I kick you out and save myself one Kelpie-birthed headache?” Draco says.

  Strange. I stare at Draco, look at the way he’s sitting, at the thrum of threads, and realize he’s not asking this as a matter of course. He’s asking because he wants me to provide him a good excuse. Because… “You like what I’m doing.”

  “It doesn’t matter. What matters is your effect on this guild,” Draco says. “If we don’t take action, we’re going to lose at least a fifth of our active contracts on Irvina.”

  “A fifth?” I frown, trying to figure out the value of that. After a moment, I discard that line of thought. It doesn’t matter. “True. But do you really want them to know that the guild is willing to cave over a little pressure?”

  “Over someone that everyone knows we have little ties to?” Draco shrugs. “I’d say we’d be hurting ourselves even more if we stayed with you.”

  “Fair enough,” I say. “Any ideas?”

  “In or out. Sitting on the fence…”

  “Mixing metaphors.” My gaze sharpens as I look at Draco, resolving the answer in my mind. “You’re right. Keeping me in the guild is a bad choice.” I see Draco straighten a little, growing serious, but I don’t stop talking. “But that’s only if you’re not supporting us.”

  “Supporting you?” Draco lets out a hiss-snort.

  “Yes. Right now, you’re collateral damage. So you either need to get out of the line of fire entirely by letting me go—or get in the bunker with us,” I say.

  “In the bunker?”

  “Sor
ry. Place to—”

  “I know what a bunker is. I want an explanation of what this bunker is about.”

  “It’s a metaphorical bunker…” Draco hisses at me, and I stop teasing the Vice-Guild Master. “Easy. You help us. Earth will issue quests. You help run the recruits through the dungeons on the slots that the guild already has. You’ve got the extra slots since we breached the new Mana threshold.” I wave my hand around, growing excited. “Not only do you make up for the loss in quests, you also get firsthand knowledge of potential new recruits.

  “On top of that, I’m sure Katherine will be happy to negotiate additional discounts for the guild on Earth itself. I bet we could get you a few new Guild Halls. Find some great recruits, maybe even a few quests to escort the new recruits to the right cities. You can slot your new recruits right onto Earth, making even more money long term, and build up a great reputation here on Irvina. You can even start recruiting from our immigrants and the humans while having some great publicity. Trust me, we humans love an underdog story.”

  “And you think that’ll be enough to offset the anger our actions will create?” Draco says.

  “Maybe not from the corporations. But how many Adventurers have come from the fifth circle onward? How many of them would look favorably upon you?”

  Draco crosses his arms as he leans back. “You think we’ll be able to poach some other higher-Level Adventurers.”

  “Maybe. Worst-case, some of those other guilds have to answer to their guilds why they aren’t doing the same.”

  “That’s if this entire exercise works.”

  “There is that.”

  Draco falls silent. The lizardman stands after a time and walks toward the door. He leaves with one final, somewhat ominous, sentence. “I’ll let you know what we decide.”

  “What do you think, Ali?”

  “I think we should be looking at what it takes to establish a guild.”

  “Isn’t it expensive? And hard to get a damn dungeon slot?”

  “Yup.”

  Arse. I pull out a piece of chocolate, unwrap the velvety goodness, and pop it into my mouth as I stare at the exit, considering my options. In the end, I let out a little snort as Harry pops his head in, scanning my face for an answer. One that I can’t give him.