Apocalypse Architect: A Tower Defense LitRPG

Chapter 80: The Penetrator Ballista

Dr. Aris surveyed the cowering technicians with a sneer, his chest puffed out like a peacock in a scrap yard.

“Hmph! Let this be a lesson to the lot of you,” Aris spat, adjusting his pristine white coat which looked laughably out of place amidst the grime of the workshop. “Just because you have mouths doesn’t mean you’re qualified to speak. Next time, keep them shut.”

He nodded sharply to the floor manager beside him.

The manager, sweating bullets, immediately turned to the workers and hissed, “Well? What are you waiting for? Thank Chief Engineer Aris for his leniency!”

The workers stood in a sullen silence, fists clenched at their sides. They had just been docked six months of salary—credits they desperately needed to buy clean water and rations for their families—all because Aris’s design was flawed and they couldn’t magically make it work. Gratitude was the last thing on their minds. If it weren’t for the armed guards stationed at the perimeter, they would have beaten the arrogance out of him right there.

But in the wasteland, power was absolute. They were expendable laborers, nameless cogs in the machine. He was a Tier-ranked Engineer protected by the Helios Syndicate.

They had to swallow their pride or starve.

“Thank you, Chief Engineer Aris,” they mumbled in a disjointed, defeated chorus.

“Fine. Get out of my sight,” Aris waved them off as if swatting flies. “And in the future, try using your brains before you open your traps. God, what a pain in the ass.”

The foreman ushered the grim-faced crew out of the assembly bay. The parts were machined; the assembly was technically finished. Their presence was no longer required for the main event.

Once the rabble was gone, Aris turned to Director Kaine, his face flushing with excitement.

“The prototype is ready,” Aris declared, his earlier disdain replaced by manic enthusiasm. “Since everyone is here, let’s proceed to the firing range immediately. It’s time to witness history.”

Director Kaine forced a smile, masking his anxiety. “Excellent. I’ll have the team set up the perimeter. I heard you’ve named it the ‘Penetrator Ballista’? Is it true what the reports say? Can it really pierce the carapace of a Tier 3 Acid-Web Arachnid?”

Aris’s eyes narrowed. “You doubt me?”

“No, no, of course not!” Kaine waved his hands defensively. “I’m just… managing expectations. The higher-ups have been breathing down my neck for weeks. We’ve poured a fortune into this R&D cycle. If this fails…”

“It won’t fail,” Aris cut him off, his voice dripping with condescension. “Unless you think you can find a better designer in this dump? This tower is the apex of ballistic engineering. It will outperform any standard Tier 2 Sentry Tower on the market. It might even rival a Tier 3. Just watch.”

Aris spun on his heel and marched out of the office, his lab coat flapping behind him like a cape.

The firing range was buzzing with activity. Technicians scurried around a massive, ugly construct of jagged steel and hydraulic pistons—the Penetrator Ballista.

Dr. Aris stood before the crowd of onlookers, basking in their attention.

“Chief Designer,” an aide reported, clipboarding in hand. “Final calibration complete. We are green for live fire in thirty minutes.”

“Good. And the targets?”

“All set. We have reinforced cowhide, standard iron plating, and high-grade alloy sheets. All lined up downrange.”

“Excellent.” Aris smirked. “Let them wait. Anticipation builds appreciation.”

Director Kaine sat in the VIP viewing area, trying to ignore the knot in his stomach. If this thing exploded—which was a non-zero possibility given Aris’s volatility—his head would roll alongside the engineer’s.

Suddenly, a young assistant sprinted into the viewing area, breathless and clutching a rolled-up document tube. He scanned the room, spotted Kaine, and rushed over.

Kaine was busy making polite conversation with a few junior designers when he felt a tug on his sleeve. He turned, annoyed. “What is it? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

The assistant leaned in, his voice a frantic whisper. “Director, you need to see this. Now.”

Kaine frowned. He glanced at the other designers, who were still fawning over the Penetrator Ballista’s specs. “Is it urgent?”

“Life or death, sir. It’s about the blueprints.”

Kaine’s eyes widened. “True or false?”

“True. I have the physical copy right here.”

Kaine looked at the tube in the assistant’s hand, his heart skipping a beat. The assembly of Aris’s tower was nearly done, but if there was a variable…

“We’ll talk in the observation room,” Kaine whispered. “Keep it quiet. I don’t want to set off Aris before the test.”

He leaned over to Aris, who was busy preening. “Dr. Aris, duty calls. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

Aris didn’t even look at him. He just waved a dismissive hand, his gaze fixed lovingly on his creation.

Kaine and the assistant slipped into the soundproofed observation room next door. The assistant checked the corridor to ensure they weren’t followed before locking the heavy steel door.

“Alright,” Kaine demanded. “What’s so mysterious?”

The assistant grinned like he’d just found a crate of pre-war whiskey. He uncapped the tube and spread the blueprints onto the table with a flourish. “Boss, feast your eyes.”

Kaine leaned over, skeptical. His eyes darted to the header text.

[Schematic: Tier 1 Sentry Tower – Modified]

Kaine’s face fell. He straightened up, glaring at the assistant. “Are you kidding me? A Tier 1 blueprint? We have archives full of these! You dragged me away from the most important test of the quarter for a starter tower? Did Sawyer put you up to this?”

“Director, please—”

“Sawyer must be desperate to climb the ranks if he’s peddling basic trash like this,” Kaine sneered, turning to leave. “I don’t have time for games.”

“Boss, look at the transmission assembly! Just look!”

Kaine paused, his hand on the doorknob. He let out a frustrated sigh and looked back at the paper. “Fine. But if this is a waste of time, you’re on latrine duty for a month.”

He scanned the diagram, his eyes tracing the mechanical lines. “Exterior… standard. Frame… standard. Nothing special here.”

Then his gaze drifted to the internal drive train.

“Hmm. That’s… interesting.” Kaine squinted. “This gear ratio. And the localized stress distribution…”

His annoyance began to fade, replaced by the calculating gaze of a veteran manager. “This transmission mechanism is incredibly clean. The friction coefficient must be near zero. Who designed this?”

Then he saw the Power Conversion Core.

Kaine froze.

He leaned in until his nose was almost touching the paper. His fingers trembled as they hovered over the intricate lattice of lines representing the energy matrix.

“This… is this real?” Kaine whispered, his voice hoarse.

“That’s exactly what I wanted to show you,” the assistant beamed, looking proud. “It’s insane, right?”

“Insane doesn’t cover it,” Kaine breathed. “This rewrites the book on kinetic transfer. Our current conversion cores operate at roughly 30% efficiency. That’s the industry standard. But this…” He tapped the paper. “If the math holds up, this design hits 50% efficiency. Minimum.”

“Fifty percent?” The assistant asked, eyes wide.

“Maybe more. Do you realize what that means?” Kaine looked up, his eyes wild. “It means half the fuel, double the output. It means a Tier 1 tower that hits like a Tier 2 but costs peanuts to run. This is a goldmine.”

He grabbed the assistant by the shoulders. “Did you ask Sawyer? Who is the architect?”

“He wouldn’t say,” the assistant shook his head. “Sawyer claims the source is anonymous and only works through him. He’s waiting for our offer.”

Kaine looked back at the blueprint, biting his lip. “That fox. That cunning little fox.” He slammed his hand on the table. “Sawyer played us. Look closely. This is just the assembly guide. He gave us the chassis and the mounting brackets, but the detailed schematics for the Conversion Core itself are missing. It’s a black box.”

“So even with the blueprint…”

“It’s useless without the core logic,” Kaine finished. “He’s teasing us. He’s showing us the steak but keeping the plate.”

Suddenly, a roar of applause erupted from outside, muffled by the soundproofing.

“Damn it!” Kaine checked his watch. “The test is starting. We can’t let Aris wait. Stow that blueprint. Don’t let anyone see it. Tell Sawyer not to move—I need to see how Aris’s monstrosity performs first. If the Penetrator Ballista is a dud, this blueprint becomes our lifeline.”

Kaine unlocked the door and sprinted back toward the firing range.

Out on the range, the atmosphere was electric.

Dr. Aris stood on a raised platform, a microphone in hand. Behind him, the Penetrator Ballista loomed, its massive hydraulic arms twitching as the engine idled.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Aris boomed. “Thank you for witnessing the dawn of a new era in Redrock defense! To demonstrate the supreme confidence I have in my design, we will not be following a standard testing protocol.”

He grinned at the crowd of technicians, guards, and lower-level staff.

“I’m going to let fate decide. We have three target types. I will toss this ceremonial marker into the crowd. Whoever catches it gets to choose the order of destruction! I am confident my creation will obliterate them all, regardless of the sequence!”

The crowd cheered, eager to curry favor with the rising star of the R&D department.

“Here we go!”

Aris closed his eyes, struck a dramatic pose, and tossed a heavy, velvet-wrapped marker over his shoulder into the audience.

Everyone scrambled, hands reaching up, shoving and jostling. Catching the marker meant face time with Aris. It meant a potential promotion.

Director Kaine burst through the side door, panting slightly, just as the velvet ball sailed through the air.

Thwack.

It hit him square in the chest.

Kaine instinctively grabbed it, looking around in confusion. “What the…?”

The cheering died instantly.

Aris turned around, a wide smile on his face, expecting to see a grateful junior technician. Instead, he saw his boss, Director Kaine, holding the marker with a bewildered expression.

“Oh,” someone in the crowd muttered. “It’s just the Director.”

“What a waste,” another whispered audibly. “Why did he have to walk in right now?”

“Rigged,” a third voice hissed. “He definitely colluded with Aris. They’re just putting on a show.”

Kaine stood there, the marker in his hand, feeling the weight of a hundred disappointed stares.