Alpha Zero (Alpha LitRPG Book 1)

by Arthur Stone

  I fought back the urge to use the second greater mark. Those didn’t grow on trees—who knew how long it would be until I lucked into another one? By using it on Stamina, I’d lose the chance to expand the capacity of another attribute.

  Next, I selected Agility. When the attribute opened with the same prized fifty-point capacity, I wasn’t too surprised. Perhaps the Order had decided to pay restitution for all of my years of empty suffering—or maybe it was my zero degree that pulled in such valuable prizes. Whatever the reason, I was being given an excellent head start.

  A pity it was so belated...

  My reserves weren’t enough to pump Strength to the max, but both Perception and Spirit, unlocked by the greater universal attributes, had predictably opened up at fifty.

  With the attributes done, it was time to deal with the talents.

  All in all, I had obtained five varieties of personal talent marks on the labor front, plus three more for my victories on the battlefield against the kote. These were simpler to use than attributes. Whether bound to my person or easily transferable, the marks could unlock a talent from zero, then raise it from the first degree to the second by accumulating ten points, then another ten points to the third, and so on until the highest possible tenth degree. From there you would need to choose a specialization to keep developing.

  I had only one attribute to my name, so I could choose only one talent. As to the pool of choices at my disposal, they were as follows: Scent of Blood, Detect Poison, Detect Traps, Angler, Novice Jeweler (who could have thought that the Order would attribute the crafting of spoonbait to this profession?), Novice Healer, Novice Stonecutter and Novice Carpenter.

  This decision wasn’t a decision at all. The optimal choice was painfully obvious: Angler. After all, if I failed at supplying the fort with kote on the regular, Ash’s attitude towards me would sour, and I wanted desperately to avoid that.

  After unlocking the talent, I further enhanced it with two of the four greater talent marks received yesterday. Each boosted it by fifty points, so one hundred in all, the maximum possible. The initial single point became redundant, but the Order compensated its disappearance with a single lesser symbol of chi.

  That had unlocked specialization branches from which to select second-tier talents. Choosing any one of them would block the development of others, but not for good. I could always unlock the same talent again, pump it past the initial ten points, and then select another branch. The Order would then consider them separate talents, though each would still require one attribute level as foundation.

  Though the selection was plentiful, the attribute requirements for these advanced talents were also more stringent, and my single point of Stamina made only a few of them accessible. After studying the general description of each branch, I settled on Fishing Instinct, which, upon proper development, promised to help identify places of concentration of fish, and even the location of specific types of fish, provided it met certain size requirements.

  Just what the fisherman ordered. I boosted the unlocked second-tier talent with the remaining greater standard marks, raising my Fishing Instinct to ten, the tier’s maximum. To go further, I would need to choose from the third tier, but the attribute requirements were out of my reach. For example, I would have loved to double my chances of catching fish with a cast net, but that required having both Stamina and Strength at two at a minimum.

  Raising a first-tier talent to the next tier required ten points of chi. And twenty at the second tier. All in all, the price for the progress made amounted to three hundred chi, but I now had sufficient confidence in my abilities to make these sacrifices without any emotional anguish or fear of depleting my reservoir. A daily loss of a few points was nothing compared to the world of possibilities opening up before me.

  Now that the talents were done, only the “strategic dessert” was left. States.

  I had acquired two greater embodiments: Equilibrium and Enhanced Enlightenment. Equilibrium was simple enough in that it modified the limit in number of attributes by one degree. What benefit did I stand to gain by expanding my reservoir capacity? That wasn’t so clear. Still, it didn’t cost anything to activate, so activate it I would.

  I unlocked Enhanced Enlightenment, which opened at the expected fifty points and now displayed a 0.50 value—half of the minimum it required to function. And I was quite all right with that.

  The rest went into Equilibrium. Three greater standard universal states, yielding one hundred fifty points total, one greater standard universal state for another twenty-five, plus eleven lesser essences of Equilibrium inherited from mother. Why she had kept these treasures, I would never know. As far as I knew, she hadn’t possessed Equilibrium herself. Could she have hoped to develop it in me? With her gone, I would never know...

  With the starting fifty, the state’s value was now at 2.36, though only the integer mattered. There was no rounding or fractional benefits. The next upgrade would only manifest once the value reached 3.

  But this was already enough to pump as much as eight attribute levels per degree instead of the standard six.

  And in this respect, I surpassed the capabilities of even most nobles, and especially children and teenagers. For all of their normalcy, they couldn’t hold a candle to me, a zero-degree cripple.

  Two greater symbols of chi, equating to one hundred points, went into a single attribute point. Twenty-five were spent on the leaking reservoir. And the last seven were kept as means of payment.

  What remained of my treasures looked far less impressive than before.

  Lesser Symbol of Chi x7

  Lesser Essence of Melee Combat x10

  Lesser Essence of Iron Skin x10

  Greater Standard Talent Mark x1 (+25 to any talent)

  Talent Mark, Scent of Blood x2

  Talent Mark, Detect Poison x1

  Talent Mark, Detect Traps x1

  Personal Talent Mark, Novice Jeweler x1

  Personal Talent Mark, Novice Healer x1

  Personal Talent Mark, Novice Stonecutter x2

  Personal Talent Mark, Novice Carpenter x1

  Standard Talent Mark x11

  Compared to this morning, I was a pauper. If only Beko had any clue as to the fortunes that were evaporating right in front of his nose as he chowed down, he would throw himself off the cliff thrice over.

  But I wasn’t Beko. I was quite content with everything.

  I had become stronger. In terms of immediate gains, the changes weren’t very drastic.

  From a strategic standpoint, however, I had leaped a dozen steps on the staircase leading up to the local Olympus.

  On that thought, the hunk of cheese fell out of my slackened hand as I grabbed on to Beko to keep from plummeting from the wall.

  My vision had grown dark, and my ears had stopped detecting sounds.

  Chapter 20

  Fishless Fishing

  Degrees of Enlightenment: 0 (101/888)

  Shadow: 101

  Attributes:

  Stamina: level 1, 75 points

  Strength: level 0, 4 points

  Agility: level 0, 57 points

  Perception: NA, 50 points

  Spirit: NA, 50 points

  Talents:

  Fishing Instinct (tier 2): 10/10

  States:

  Equilibrium (2.36): level 2

  Enhanced Enlightenment (0.5): level 0

  “Ged! What is wrong with you, Ged?!” Beko chirped in my ear.

  My hearing was recovering faster than my sight. Craning my neck in a struggle to raise my head off my chest, I mumbled a response.

  “I’m all right... I think... It got dark all of a sudden. And my hearing disappeared. Maybe the food was rotten...”

  “No, the food isn’t to blame,” Beko protested. “You’re developing, but not getting any spices. I fall down like that, too, when my inner self is developing. Spices can help, but we don’t have any. They’re expensive. We can’t afford them.”

  “We�
�ll get ourselves some spices,” I said with confidence, rubbing my face. “Maybe not right away, but soon.”

  “They’re expensive,” Beko repeated.

  “That’s all right, we’ll make it work. But we have a more pressing purchase to make first.”

  “What?”

  “A knife. A normal one.”

  “I didn’t lose mine, like you did,” Beko said defensively. “It’s mine! Mine!”

  “Relax, I’m not trying to take it from you. But dressing the kote with sharp stone is a pain like no other.”

  “We don’t have a kote to dress.”

  “Nor do we have a dressing knife, so let’s start with that. Getting a kote will be step two. Oh, and do you know if anyone in the fort can fashion a wooden block?”

  “I don’t know anything about any block.”

  “Never mind. I’ll be on the lookout for a craftsman.”

  * * *

  The knife ended up costing five lesser symbols of chi. Truthfully, it wasn’t worth half that. But it was the cheapest possible option in Guppy’s stock. He had asked for six symbols at first, but then relented and agreed to accept five on account of our continued patronage. A loyalty discount of sorts.

  The remaining two symbols went to a woodworker who quickly fashioned a wooden block of the right size. Plus I promised him a chunk of kote if he added a groove for the cord. Old leek stalks may be tear resistant, but easily frayed with common rock. And I needed to minimize any risk of damage, lest we remained without tackle and without haul.

  The feebleness that had overwhelmed me so cunningly during breakfast hadn’t fully abated. I felt like a vegetable that had been placed in a pot, then removed just as the water came to a boil, still undercooked. And I had to admit to myself that I wouldn’t be able to recreate yesterday’s fishing heroics, even with my upgraded Stamina and experience.

  I just wasn’t in the condition to be grappling with Blackriver’s crocs.

  Although, if my thinking was correct, I wouldn’t need to.

  When we finally got down to the pebbled beach, the first thing I did was start working on fashioning a couple of clubs. My pickaxe experience still fresh in my mind, I wanted to avoid losing precious fish brains going forward.

  It was slightly disappointing that the Order didn’t award me a damn thing for crafting the clubs. Apparently, the accomplishment was thoroughly insignificant.

  Looking at the crudely fashioned sticks, I didn’t disagree. After that, I moved on to a new tackle, this time following a completely different blueprint. Rather than make another spoonbait, I tied to the cord a flat pebble with a hole in the middle, and secured a hook to it. Then I focused on the reeling mechanism. After securing the block to the loop affixed to a large bough with a sharpened point, I passed the end of the cord through it, then stepped back to assess my creation.

  The craftsmanship was just as primitive as you might imagine. Good thing I cared nothing about the aesthetics, but only function.

  And we were going to put function to the test.

  * * *

  Until now, I had been so busy with preparations that I hadn’t so much as shot a glance in the river’s direction. But now, as I looked this way and that, I didn’t see anything resembling a hint as to where to find schools of fish or solitary large specimen. Only the standard circles and splashes that indicated frolicking fry—the kind of stuff no special skills were needed to notice.

  Where was my fishing instinct, then? Why wasn’t it pointing me in the right direction?

  I didn’t doubt that it was working. Such was this world that doubting such fundamental principles would be tantamount to believing that the Earth was flat. And while those types of people did exist in my old world, they fell strictly into two categories: those with severe mental deficiencies, and those who sought to profit from the mental deficiencies of the first category.

  And I was anything but mentally deficient. I knew that the talent was working. I just needed to figure out how.

  That took about five minutes. As a result of my investigation, I learned that the talent had to be activated, whereupon it began to expend the aforementioned “shadow chi,” which then regenerated on its own.

  That seemed clear enough, so without further hesitation, I went ahead and activated it.

  And then my jaw dropped.

  The river transformed, becoming translucent—both in the shallows and further out. The bottom was covered with a cobweb of ultra-thin threads, reflecting the relief that was hidden to the eye. And right over this surface, rainbow patches sparkled here and there. Most of them formed clusters, but there were also individual shapes, typically of a much larger variety. Some even seemed enormous, but it was hard to be certain given that their location and dimensions were constantly shifting, inflating and deflating like irregularly shaped balloons on a radar screen.

  One of the nearest clusters whirled near the water line. Exactly where circles floated up to the surface, indicating the presence of fish.

  Mouth still agape, I tried to remind myself that this wasn’t a museum exhibit for me to stupidly gawk at. And then, just as suddenly, the hazy picture exposing the secret world of the river faded. I tried to bring it back, but to no avail.

  The cause of the malfunction became immediately apparent. Scatterbrain that I was, I’d forgotten that the talent didn’t run on good will. The minute-and-a-half of its operation had drained all of my shadow chi, and it would probably take a good while for it to regenerate.

  That was some costly gawking. A squandered opportunity to master the talent.

  But oh well. I had plenty else to do while my shadow chi regenerated.

  Standing at my side, Beko sensed my disposition.

  “Did we do something wrong?”

  “No, everything is fine,” I said. “We’re about to start fishing kote.”

  With those words, I began work on the second tackle. Having already staked the block to the pebble, I needed to wind the main part of the cord in a loop to prepare for casting.

  At this point, even Beko realized that something was off.

  He asked with hesitation.

  “You’re going to fish with a pebble instead of a spoon?”

  “Exactly right, Beko. A holed pebble.”

  “And it’s going to bite?”

  “Of course not. Kote aren’t stupid to pounce on a pebble. And even if they were, the river is already full of pebbles. Enough for them to feast for ages.”

  “Why are you doing it, then?” the ghoul stared at me with a blank expression.

  As I continued working on the useless tackle, I said quietly.

  “See Satat’s brother over there?”

  “Romris? Yeah, I do. He’s been sitting there this whole time.”

  “What about the other kid? Who is he?”

  “That’s Bargo. He’s Lame Chuggs’ son. The eldest one.”

  “Tell me, Beko. Do you find it odd that two able-bodied males have spent the past several hours sitting there, watching us as we toil?”

  “Maybe they’re bored...” the ghoul suggested without conviction.

  “That’s a load of crap and you know it. There’s always work to be done in the fort. Ash himself had to mediate a conflict between a bunch of kids because it was disrupting regular operations. He wouldn’t stand for anyone slacking—even losers get loaded with work to keep them busy from dawn till dusk. And here we’ve got a couple of loiterers. Except they’re not really loiterers.”

  “Who are they, then?” Beko still wasn’t following.

  “They’re spies. They’re engaged in industrial espionage.”

  “What? They aren’t spies at all! They’re Bargo and Romris.”

  “And why couldn’t Bargo and Romris be spies? They’re out here looking to suss out our kote fishing method. Such knowledge is incredibly valuable, you see. And I have no intention of sharing it for free. Besides, there’s no point in creating competition for ourselves. We must remain the fort’s exclusive kote
suppliers. Are you with me?”

  “You think that if Bargo and Romris learn to fish kote, we might get banished from our cellar?”

  I nodded. “Of course. They’re stronger than we are, with more degrees of enlightenment and attributes. Fishing comes easier to them than to us. Which is why we’re going to fish with the purpose of not catching anything.”

  “You’re clever.”

  “That I am.”

  “But if we don’t catch anything, how are we going to fill our quota?”

  “Eventually they’re going to get sick of watching us aimlessly. Once they leave, we’re going to get to some real fishing.”

  “But if we start catching fish, they’ll come back to look.”