Apocalypse Architect: A Tower Defense LitRPG

Chapter 174: A Business Proposition?

Jax pulled up the System interface to inspect the item’s details.

[Temporary Building Card: Constructs one Temporary Defense Tower. Duration: 20 hours.]

[Price: 1,000 Tier 4 Cores.]

Seeing the price tag, Jax practically choked.

“What the hell is this?” he muttered, staring at the holographic text. “A thousand Tier 4 Cores for a temporary tower? I haven’t even seen that much wealth in my entire life!”

Still, the temptation gnawed at him. The card’s utility was undeniable. If they wanted any chance of surviving against the Tier 7 Parasitic Silkworm looming above, relying on Vance’s scavenged garbage was a death sentence.

Those rusty Defense Towers were fine for squashing low-level Tier 2 or Tier 3 grubs, but against anything larger, they were practically decorative. It was the whole reason Vance’s crew had built that spike-trap road to begin with—to bottleneck the massive swarms and whittle them down at a glacial pace.

Vance caught Jax’s thousand-yard stare and scoffed, misinterpreting his silence for terror. “I told you,” the scavenger boss sighed, a look of resignation washing over his scarred face. “That’s a Tier 7 freak of nature up there. It’s totally out of our league. Just give it up, kid. We’re not even going to try and shake you down anymore. Looks like we’re letting the fat sheep walk.”

Jax didn’t even blink at the insult. Instead, his eyes gleamed with a sudden, dangerous calculus. He turned to Vance, a cocky smirk tugging at his lips.

“I’ve got a business proposition for you,” Jax said smoothly. “You interested in a big score?”

Vance blinked, genuinely thrown. “A business proposition? Brother, are you out of your mind? We’re about to be bug food, and you want to talk business? Please! I’m dead broke. I don’t have the Credits to trade with you anyway. Stop screwing around and help us figure out a way to clear these eggs. That Tier 7 is a lost cause!”

Jax stepped closer, his tone turning dead serious. “I’m not joking. We gamble right here, right now. It’s time to turn that rusty bicycle of yours into a luxury hover-bike. We just need capital.”

“What do you mean, a hover-bike? What on earth are you talking about?”

“How many Cores do you have on you right now?” Jax demanded.

Hearing the question, Vance instinctively slapped a hand over his pocket, his street-smart paranoia flaring. He glared at Jax. Was this guy seriously trying to reverse-rob him? If word gets out that I got mugged by my own mark, I’ll be the laughingstock of the wastes, Vance thought, grimacing.

“What’s your angle?” Vance growled, taking a defensive stance. “Listen here, I might not be able to beat you in a straight fight, but if you even look at my Cores, I guarantee I’ll make you bleed for it!”

Jax rolled his eyes, exuding exhausted patience. “Relax, paranoid much? I’m trying to make you rich. And trust me, I’m not after your stash out of jealousy. Have you looked at your setup? These Defense Towers are absolute garbage. Why would I want anything you have? Don’t flatter yourself.”

That struck a nerve. Vance’s face flushed dark red. He could take an insult to his character, but nobody trashed his hard work. “What did you just say?!” he bellowed, jabbing a finger at his patchwork turrets. “You calling my towers trash?! You take that back! Apologize right now!”

Jax blinked, surprised he’d finally found the scavenger’s trigger. He’d insulted the man to his face repeatedly, but calling his towers garbage was the line in the sand.

“Down, boy. That’s not what I meant,” Jax placated, though his voice remained firm. “Here is the pitch: you assist me with the capital, and I take down the Tier 7 boss. We split the Cores fifty-fifty. Think about it. Do you have any idea how many low-tier Cores a single Tier 7 drop is worth?”

Vance stared at him like he had sprouted a second head. “Kill the Parasitic Silkworm? Are you crazy, or did I just hear you wrong?”

“I’m deadly serious,” Jax pressed. “I don’t have enough Tier 4 Cores to pull this off alone. Empty your pockets. Give me everything you have.”

“What exactly are you going to do with them?” Vance asked, backing up a step.

“I have access to a specific Defense Tower, but the System requires a massive Core deposit to deploy it,” Jax explained. “Cough up the funds, and I’ll drop a tower right here on your roof.”

Vance’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You’re going to build a tower… for me? Really? Just as a gift?”

“Let’s not get sentimental. It’s a temporary construct. I need it to kill the boss. Once the Silkworm is dead, you can keep the tower for whatever’s left of its duration. I don’t care who you shoot with it afterward.”

The concept flew right over Vance’s head. A temporary tower? In his experience, once a structure was built, it stayed there until the bugs tore it down.

“I don’t have time to give you a tutorial,” Jax snapped, losing patience. “Hurry up. I have about five hundred Tier 4 Cores on me. How many can you match?”

To prove his point, Jax accessed his inventory. With a wave of his hand, a glittering mound of crystals materialized, clattering onto the concrete. Over five hundred Tier 4 Cores pulsed with a dense, heavy energy, illuminating the rooftop.

Vance’s breath hitched. His eyes widened to the size of saucers. He had never seen so much concentrated wealth in one place. “Where the hell did you get all of these?”

“I’m the City Lord of The Sprawl,” Jax said, squaring his shoulders with the absolute authority of a warlord. “Of course I have capital. Now, are you in or not? Because if I have to do this myself, you don’t get a single sliver of that boss drop.”

Vance’s crew exchanged stunned glances. The title clicked into place. They had heard his subordinates calling him “Lord,” but to actually see the wealth of a City Lord laid bare was staggering.

Vance’s mind raced. His syndicate’s entire life savings barely amounted to a hundred Tier 4 Cores, and they had bled for years guarding this highway to scrape that together. But the greed was intoxicating.

He turned to his slack-jawed crew. “Get down to the vault,” Vance barked. “Bring up everything! Let’s see exactly how many Tier 4s we can scrape together!”

The men didn’t hesitate. Realizing the sheer scale of the gamble, they practically dove down the stairwell.

A few minutes later, the screech of rusty wheels echoed up from the floors below. Several men pushed overflowing wheelbarrows onto the roof. With a loud clatter, they tipped the carts, spilling a massive, cascading wave of dull crystals across the floor.

Jax stared at the mountain of rocks, his expression utterly deadpan. “Wow. That is a lot of… Tier 1 Cores.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “With this giant pile of gravel, how many Tier 4s does this even convert to?”

Vance rubbed the back of his neck, looking intensely awkward. “That whole cart? We’d be lucky if it exchanges for a single Tier 4 Core! But we’ve got a whole warehouse full of them downstairs. It’s just going to take a while to haul it all up. Want me to just send the boys back down?”

Jax waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t bother bringing the mountain to me. Take me down to your vault. I’ll do the System math on-site.”

As he led the way, Vance’s heart hammered against his ribs. The fire of ambition burned in his chest. If this arrogant City Lord actually pulled it off, half of a Tier 7 Core was roughly equal to fifty Tier 6 Cores. It was a windfall of astronomical proportions.

It was enough wealth to lift them out of the wasteland dirt forever.

Vance’s mind was ablaze with excitement. If they could really take down that Parasitic Silkworm and split the Core, that would be like getting fifty Tier 6 Cores. It was a fortune that seemed to have fallen from the sky.

In an instant, they could rise from poverty to prosperity.