Apocalypse Architect: A Tower Defense LitRPG

Chapter 102: I Advise You to Let Me Go

Every technician in the observation deck pressed forward, their eyes glued to the scene unfolding within the laboratory’s containment zone.

Victor gripped the railing, his knuckles white as he stared down into the testing arena.

Two enclosures had been erected on the laboratory floor. The one at the forefront was a square fortification constructed from the materials Jax had specified. Behind it stood a second enclosure, built by Victor’s own engineering team using standard reinforced alloys.

The contrast was stark. The lab’s proprietary wall was thick, heavy, and radiated durability. Jax’s prototype, by comparison, looked laughably fragile—a paper-thin barrier that seemed barely capable of withstanding a stiff breeze, let alone a beast tide.

Faith in Jax’s design was non-existent among the staff.

“That front wall is a joke,” one researcher muttered. “The poor bastard inside is dead meat.”

“It’s barely 20 centimeters thick,” another added, shaking his head. “Expecting that to stop a Rodent-Maw Creeper? It’s suicide.”

“I told you, the guy is a con artist. He just wanted to scam some Credits before skipping town. It’s all smoke and mirrors.”

“It’s over. Look at them.”

A collective sigh of pity rippled through the observation deck. Below, the pack of Rodent-Maw Creepers had skittered to a halt directly in front of the thin prototype wall. Their mandibles clicked, and their erratic movements suggested an imminent strike. To reach the human bait inside, they would have to tear through that barrier.

Inside the prototype enclosure, the test subject’s face was twisted in absolute terror. The acrid, rotting stench of the beasts drifted over the low wall, assaulting his senses.

“No! Let me out!” the man screamed, backing away until he hit the far side of the small square. “I don’t want the Credits! I quit! Let me out!”

But the walls were too high to scale, and the surface offered no purchase. He was trapped, left to scream his lungs out as the monsters prowled mere inches away.

Ten meters behind him, inside the thick, standard-issue enclosure, the second test subject wore a grin of immense relief.

“Yes! Finally safe,” he whispered, wiping sweat from his brow. “Looks like I get to live another day.”

He couldn’t see the arena floor, but the sickening sound of claws scraping against stone echoed through the chamber.

Up on the deck, Victor watched the motionless beasts with growing impatience. His brow furrowed. “What is this? Did that brat actually scam me?”

The Creepers weren’t attacking. They just stood there.

“Damn it. If he thinks he can play me for a fool…” Victor slammed his fist against the railing, his face darkening. “I’ll kill him myself.”

He spun on his heel, ready to storm out and order Jax’s execution.

“Wait! Chief, look!”

Victor froze as a chorus of astonished gasps erupted from his staff.

“Why aren’t they interested in the bait?”

“They’re turning around… Is it the smell? Does the wall emit something they hate?”

“Look at that! They’re ignoring the first wall entirely! They’re heading for the second one!”

Victor whirled back to the glass.

Down below, the Rodent-Maw Creepers had sniffed the perimeter of Jax’s prototype, sneezed violently, and then lost all interest. As if repelled by an invisible force, the pack coordinated a pivot and surged toward the second enclosure—the one built by Victor’s team.

Inside the first wall, the terrified man was still wailing, his screams a dinner bell for any predator. Panic overrides logic in the face of death; despite his internal pleas to stay quiet, the scratching sounds outside had broken his resolve.

But after a few minutes of screaming, he realized the scratching had stopped. Or rather, it had moved away.

He pressed his ear against the cold material of the wall.

Silence?

“Huh? Are they… leaving?”

He listened harder. The heavy thrum of the beasts’ movement was fading, replaced by the sound of scraping further down the arena.

“They didn’t come in,” he breathed, a hysterical laugh bubbling up. “They didn’t come in! This wall saved me!”

Inside the second enclosure, ten meters away, the other man’s celebration was cut short.

He had been preparing to lie down and wait for the “all clear,” but a sudden, frantic scratching sound vibrated through the floorboards beneath his feet.

“Wait… that sounds close. Too close.”

He scrambled to the wall, pressing his ear against the alloy.

Outside, the Rodent-Maw Creepers, frustrated by the impenetrable floor of the arena, had turned their fury upon the thick wall. Their diamond-hard claws and serrated teeth began to tear into the structure.

Schlick. Schlick. Crunch.

The sound of metal and reinforced concrete being gouged away was deafening. Dust and debris rained down inside the enclosure.

The man’s face drained of color. He pounded on the thick walls, screaming for help. “Save me! They’re coming in! Open the door!”

On the observation deck, the researchers watched with cold, scientific detachment.

Victor stood frozen, his expression a mask of shock. He hadn’t expected Jax’s formula to actually work. But the evidence was undeniable: the beasts had completely bypassed the prototype to attack the control structure.

A slow, satisfied smile spread across his face. “Excellent. It worked. It actually worked! Haha!”

Below, the inevitable conclusion arrived. Dozens of Rodent-Maw Creepers focused on a single weak point near the foundation. Within moments, they had tunneled a hole large enough for a single beast to squeeze through.

The man inside, driven mad by fear, saw the breach. As the first snout poked through, he lashed out, kicking wildly at the hole.

It was a fatal mistake.

The Rodent-Maw Creeper’s jaws snapped shut on his ankle.

Riiiiiip.

The sound of tearing flesh was audible even through the glass. The beast yanked backward, dragging the man down as a massive chunk of skin and muscle was stripped from his leg.

He collapsed, clutching his mangled limb, his screams curdling the air. But it was over.

Smelling fresh blood, the rest of the pack went into a frenzy. They surged through the breach like a flood of nightmares.

In less than three minutes, the screaming stopped. The second enclosure was silent, save for the wet sounds of feeding. A spreading pool of crimson and a few scattered remains were all that was left of the test subject.

Victor straightened his suit jacket. An assistant hurriedly offered him a hot towel, and he wiped his hands—hands that were already perfectly clean.

“Alright. The experiment is a definitive success,” Victor announced, tossing the towel aside. “I leave the cleanup and follow-up data to you. Call me if anything unexpected happens.”

He adjusted his collar, turned, and strode out of the laboratory with a spring in his step.

Meanwhile, in the auction hall of The Elysium Lounge.

Jax and Hazel were surrounded.

The auction manager checked his watch, his expression darkening with every passing second. Thirty minutes had come and gone. Sawyer had not appeared. The VIP guests were growing restless, their murmurs filling the tense silence.

The manager’s patience snapped. He waved his hand dismissively. “The person you claimed would come isn’t here. The Credits aren’t here. My time has been wasted, and I’m done waiting. Men, take them!”

At his command, several guards unhooked heavy shackles from their belts and charged.

Jax frowned, his eyes narrowing. Hazel immediately stepped in front of him, spreading her arms to shield him.

“I’d like to see who dares!” she shouted, her voice trembling slightly but fierce.

Slade, standing nearby, sneered. “Miss Hazel, give it a rest. Why are you protecting him? The guy is a fraud. It’s over.”

“I don’t care what you think!” Hazel snapped. “You aren’t taking him anywhere!”

The manager signaled the guards with a sharp nod. Two of them grabbed Hazel, pulling her aside, while the others swarmed Jax, locking the cold metal cuffs around his wrists and ankles.

Jax didn’t struggle. He looked at the manager with an expression of calm innocence.

“You really plan to arrest me? I’d advise you to wait a few more minutes. If you drag me out of here now, you’re going to create a mess that you won’t be able to clean up.”

Slade let out a cold laugh. “Look at him! Still talking big even when he’s in chains. You really won’t give up until you’re staring at your own coffin, will you?”

“It’s not about seeing a coffin,” Jax replied evenly. “It’s about giving you one last chance to save your own skins. But since you insist on throwing it away… fine. I suppose the Chief of The Elysium Lounge will just have to come find you himself.”

Jax fell silent, allowing the guards to shove him toward the exit.

Hazel struggled against the guards holding her, screaming hysterically. “What are you doing? This is illegal! You can’t do this!”

Jax glanced back at her, a helpless, apologetic smile tugging at his lips. “I’m sorry, Miss Hazel. Looks like I dragged you into the mud with me this time.”

“How can you be apologizing right now?” Hazel stamped her foot, tears of frustration welling in her eyes. She looked at the guards blocking her path, her heart sinking.

Her defense of Jax wasn’t entirely selfless.

Hazel had been desperately searching for a way to break free from the suffocating grip of her family. She had no power, no leverage—until she found Jax and his blueprints.

If she could facilitate a partnership between Jax and Sawyer, she would have the capital to demand her independence. It was her only escape route.

Because waiting for her at home was a marriage contract—a life sentence with a man she had never even met.