Apocalypse Architect: A Tower Defense LitRPG

Chapter 111: Assigning Tasks

Jax scrolled up the holographic interface, his eyes scanning the intricate web of the tech tree.

While the branch for the Tier 2 Bastion was fully illuminated, several nodes remained dim.

“I’ve unlocked everything available,” Jax muttered, rubbing his chin. “But I haven’t built them all yet. I’m still missing one Howitzer Turret and two Sentry Towers.”

He tapped on the greyed-out icon for the Tier 3 Bastion.

“System,” Jax queried mentally. “To upgrade to Tier 3, do I need to construct every single building on this list and max out their levels first?”

[Affirmative, User. The protocol is strict: You must construct all available defensive structures within the current Bastion tier and upgrade them to their maximum level before the System will permit an ascension to the next tier.]

“And I assume I don’t need to run any specific quest for the unlock itself?”

[Correct. Possession of the Architect’s Codex satisfies the prerequisite permissions.]

Jax nodded slowly. The path was clear, but the cost was steep. He opened his inventory, frowning at the empty slots where his strategic resources should be.

“Refined Iron and Stardust Stone,” he sighed. “That’s the bottleneck. Without those materials, I can’t build the remaining towers. Relying on daily rewards is too slow—two crates a day won’t get me anywhere near the volume I need. I have to find a natural source. I need mines.”

With a heavy sigh, Jax closed the interface. It was going to be a long grind. He dismissed the screen and ordered the team to rest.

Two days passed. The atmosphere in the valley had settled into a comfortable rhythm.

Elena’s integration into the team had been seamless. Her straightforward, slightly brash personality meshed well with the rough-and-tumble nature of the miners. She didn’t put on airs, and that earned her respect.

Gareth, however, watched her interactions with Jax with a growing sense of envy. He leaned on his pickaxe, wiping sweat from his brow as he watched Elena laugh at something Jax said near the command platform.

“Man,” Gareth grumbled. “Once I save up enough Credits, I’m getting myself a wife.”

Silas, swinging his hoe into the rocky earth nearby, paused to give him a pitying look. “Give it a rest, Gareth. Marriage? In this world? You’re dreaming. The pressure alone would kill you.”

“I’ve got a stack of Cores now,” Gareth argued, bristling. “What’s wrong with wanting a family?”

Ever since Jax had dressed him down about ambition, Gareth had been fixated on the idea of stability—a wife, kids, a legacy. It was his new driving force.

“Think about it,” Silas scoffed, shaking his head. “Say you find a wife. You need a house. Then you have a kid—do you know how hard it is to raise a kid now? And where are they going to live? You can’t bring them out here to the wastes. They’d have to stay in The Sprawl.”

Silas gestured vaguely toward the horizon. “So you’re here, risking your neck in Sector 33, and she’s back in the city alone. Long distance, dangerous work… aren’t you afraid she’d find comfort in someone else’s arms?”

Gareth’s face flushed with anger. “So what? We’re just supposed to be bachelors until we die?”

“Maybe,” Silas shrugged. “Unless the Boss decides to issue us government-assigned wives.”

“Shut up! You think the Boss can just conjure women out of thin air? Less talking, more digging!”

Gareth turned back to the rock face, swinging his pickaxe with unnecessary violence. He hated talking to Silas; the man had a talent for crushing hope with brutal logic. But deep down, the worry gnawed at him. Was he mining for a future that didn’t exist?

Around noon, the growl of a diesel engine cut through the ambient noise of the valley.

Both men froze, looking toward the valley entrance. A mud-spattered, charcoal-grey off-road vehicle rumbled through the pass, its suspension groaning as it navigated the uneven terrain.

The doors opened, and two women stepped out.

Silas and Gareth dropped their tools. Their jaws practically hit the dirt.

“Holy…” Gareth whispered. “Did you manifest that? Did the Boss actually order us wives?”

He stared unblinkingly at Hazel and Raven. They were stunning—clean skin, sharp eyes, and an air of elegance that didn’t belong in the dusty wasteland.

The women scanned the area before walking toward the miners.

“Excuse me,” Hazel asked, her voice cool and professional. “Is this Sector 33?”

Gareth shoved Silas aside, puffing out his chest and flashing what he imagined was a rugged, charismatic grin.

“It sure is, ladies,” he said, deepening his voice. “Welcome to Sector 33. I’m Gareth, Guild Leader of The Dire Wolves.”

Hazel and Raven exchanged a brief, unreadable glance. Then, without a word, they walked right past him, heading straight for the fortress.

Gareth stood frozen, his hand still extended in greeting. He looked like a statue of rejection.

“What… what was that?” Gareth sputtered, indignation rising. “Did they just ignore me? Am I invisible? Was my handsome aura not overwhelming enough?”

Silas walked up beside him, clicking his tongue as he looked Gareth up and down.

“Chief, look at yourself,” Silas said, shaking his head. “You’re covered in soot. Your face is grey. Your hair looks like a bird’s nest. You look like a goblin, not a Guild Leader. Those are high-tier beauties— The Helios Syndicate type. They wouldn’t look twice at a dirt-digger.”

Gareth frantically grabbed his polished hoe, using the metal blade as a mirror. The reflection stared back: wild eyes, grime-streaked face, desperate expression.

“Dammit!” Gareth groaned. “I should have let you take point! If I’d known, I would have washed my face! I blew it!”

Silas patted his shoulder. “Let it go. Women like that aren’t for the likes of us. Know your lane, Gareth.”

As Raven and Hazel approached the central platform, their composure cracked. They stared up at the towering Howitzer Turret and the flanking Sentry Towers, their mouths slightly agape.

“Good lord,” Raven murmured. “No wonder Jax has the guts to partner with us. No wonder he dared to raid the Sandworms. He actually has functioning Defense Towers.”

“We underestimated him,” Hazel admitted, her eyes narrowing as she calculated the firepower. “He’s not just a strong Awakened; he’s a warlord in the making.”

They called out to the figure on the platform.

Jax was sitting at a makeshift desk, sketching on a piece of paper. He was already planning the layout for the Tier 3 expansion. The new tier would drastically increase the Bastion’s footprint, allowing him to fortify the cliffs flanking the valley entrance.

His mind was focused on the new unlock: the Cryo-Tower.

In every game he’d ever played, ice towers were the ultimate support structures. Low damage, but high crowd control—slowing movement and attack speed. If he could place Cryo-Towers at the choke point, he could slow the Zerg swarms down enough for the Howitzers to obliterate them.

Hearing his name, Jax put down his pen and walked to the edge of the platform.

“You’re finally here,” Jax called down, hopping off the ledge to meet them. “How did it go with the house?”

Hazel reached into her waist bag and pulled out a pristine document. “Done. Per your specifications, we purchased a villa in a secure district of The Sprawl. It cost two hundred Tier 2 Cores.”

Jax nodded, taking the deed and tucking it into his jacket. “Good work.”

Raven was still eyeing the towers, walking around the base of the Sentry Tower and tapping the metal. “I have to admit, I’m impressed. I thought you were just a brute relying on muscle to clear the Zerg. I didn’t think you had… this.”

Jax smirked. “Brute force has its limits. If I only used my fists, do you think I’d have thousands of Cores sitting in my vault? Don’t overestimate what an Awakened can do alone.”

Raven scoffed, crossing her arms. “I wouldn’t go that far. Personal power is still king. The reason Awakened struggle against swarms is just a lack of sufficient power, not a flaw in the system.”

Jax didn’t argue. He knew the value of automated firepower.

Hazel stepped forward, handing Jax another folded piece of paper.

“Regarding your other request,” she said, her tone business-like. “I’ve completed the investigation. I located several mine owners operating in the region closest to The Sprawl. They have access to Refined Iron and Stardust Stone deposits. When do you want to move out?”