Apocalypse Architect: A Tower Defense LitRPG

Chapter 184: Luring the Parasitic Silkworm

“Perfect,” Jax said, his eyes gleaming as he surveyed the scorched kill zone. “The Defense Tower cuts through Tier 5 bugs like paper.”

Standing nearby, Volt pulled off his heavy gloves and approached. “I pushed the plant’s output to the redline before I came over,” the engineer said, his voice dropping to a grim murmur. “The amperage you’re pulling right now? We’re exceeding eighty percent of the grid’s safe load.”

Jax frowned, his excitement cooling into cold calculation. “Eighty percent? Can the reactor handle a higher draw?”

“The reactor isn’t the problem. A step-up transformer can easily boost the voltage,” Volt explained, rubbing the back of his neck. “The bottleneck is the infrastructure. These underground cables haven’t seen maintenance in years. The insulation is rated for fifty years in an ideal climate. In this post-apocalyptic heat, the rubber sheathing is dry-rotting.”

Volt pointed toward the ground. “If we forcibly crank the current, the thermal load will melt the outer sheathing. It’ll trigger a catastrophic short. If the trunk line turns into a slag heap, repairing it out here is a pipe dream.”

Jax’s jaw tightened. “Dammit. Another chokepoint. Workarounds?”

Volt thought for a moment. “Replacing the cable is impossible. But if you only sustain the maximum draw for a very brief window, the insulation might hold together just long enough.”

“Done,” Jax agreed instantly. “We don’t need a sustained barrage. We just need it to hit hard enough to fry that Tier 7 Parasitic Silkworm.”

“I’ll head back to the plant and rig the step-up transformer,” Volt said with a nod. “I’ll have it ready.”

Jax turned back to the group. “Are there any Tier 6 bugs in this sector we can test the upper limits on?”

Vance shook his head emphatically. “Not a chance. The population density drops off a cliff after Tier 5. For a bug to evolve to Tier 6, it has to cannibalize an ungodly amount of its own kind. We haven’t spotted a single Tier 6 in the city for years. The only thing bigger out here is the Silkworm.”

“Alright. Then we go loud,” Jax ordered, slipping seamlessly into command mode. He looked toward the towering silhouette of the Tianhai Building in the distance.

The system timer was ticking down. He had exactly one day left. If he failed to kill the beast within twenty-four hours, the quest would expire, the Reward would vanish, and a highly pissed-off Tier 7 monstrosity would likely flatten the entire Forgotten City.

“Vance,” Jax barked. “Get your men. Tear down this Defense Tower and haul it to the rooftop directly opposite the Tianhai Building. And treat it like unexploded ordnance. If you scratch the casing, I’ll take it out of your hide.”

“On it! We’ll move it now,” Vance replied, already signaling his crew.

Jax pivoted to his sniper. “Elena. Take the Soul Collector Rifle and establish an overwatch position facing the Tianhai Building. I want a total quarantine on that block. Kill every single bug that approaches the perimeter. We’re going to forcibly starve the Parasitic Silkworm. Deny it food, and it’ll be forced to come out and hunt.”

“Copy that,” Elena said, her expression hardening as she racked the bolt of her rifle and headed for the stairs.

The team scattered, a flurry of hurried, desperate activity. Jax felt the heavy weight of the unknown pressing down on him. They were walking into this blind. He didn’t have a system bestiary entry for the Parasitic Silkworm, meaning he had no idea what kind of latent abilities or hidden biological weapons a Tier 7 bug might possess.

It took the crew several grueling hours to haul the heavy components of the High-Energy Electric Tower across the ruined blocks. Sweating and cursing, they finally bolted the heavy steel chassis to the concrete roof opposite the Tianhai Building.

Jax checked the system clock. Two hours had bled away.

The sky began to darken, the setting sun painting the distant horizon in bruised shades of violet and bloody orange. It was a beautiful, intoxicating sunset, but Jax had zero patience for scenery.

He glanced over at Gareth. “Is Volt back yet?”

Gareth shook his head. “No sign of him.”

A cold knot formed in Jax’s stomach. “Hold the line. I’m going to check on him.”

Jax bolted down the stairwell and sprinted back toward the power plant. When he arrived, he found Volt suspended high up on a structural pylon, strapped into a safety harness over his bio-suit. The engineer was sweating profusely, wrestling a heavy industrial transformer into a junction box while Vance’s guards kept watch below.

Seeing Jax jog up, Volt rubbed a cramped shoulder and shouted down, “Getting impatient? I’m almost done! Just seating the last coupling!”

Volt retrieved a heavy, insulated component from his tool bag and locked it into the array with the Proficient speed of a veteran. A moment later, he grabbed a diagnostic remote and pressed a sequence of buttons.

Zzzzz-crack!

A violent, localized hum of pure electrical power vibrated through the steel pylon. Volt grinned, clearly satisfied. “Just need to run a stress test.”

He dialed up the voltage on the remote. The hum escalated into a deafening, angry whine. Suddenly, a wisp of acrid blue smoke hissed from a section of cable fifty yards down the line.

Volt immediately snapped the dial back, cutting the surge. “Whew. One thousand kilovolts is the absolute ceiling,” he muttered, wiping grease from his forehead. “Push it past that, and we’re cooking the grid.”

Volt unclipped his harness and repelled down to the concrete. He reached into his pocket and offered the heavy remote control to Jax. “Mission accomplished. It’s armed.”

Jax held his hands up, refusing it. “You keep it. I don’t want to bump a dial and fry the only lifeline we have. You know the tolerances. I’ll just tell you when to pull the trigger.”

Volt smiled and pocketed the device. “Fair enough. If the grid destabilizes, I’ll call it out. The board is yours.”

Jax and Volt jogged back to the staging area. As they approached the rooftop opposite the Tianhai Building, the rhythmic, deafening CRACK of Elena’s rifle echoed through the dusk.

She was prone on the ledge, her shoulder pressed tight against the stock, firing relentlessly into the swarms below. Crouched beside her in the dirt was Barnaby.

Barnaby had a piece of chalk in his hand, furiously scratching tally marks into the concrete roof.

“Barney, add ten more!” Elena shouted over the ringing of a spent brass casing hitting the deck.

“Got it!” Barnaby replied, dragging a sharp line through a cluster of chalk marks.

Jax walked up behind them, shaking his head. “I didn’t peg you for a bookkeeper, Barnaby.”

“Hey, I like keeping score,” Elena shot back without pulling her eye from the scope. “Tracking the kill count gives me a tangible metric for my own growth.”

Jax smirked and gave her a thumbs-up. “I respect the hustle. How are we looking on time?”

He checked the Defense Tower’s system interface. “Twelve hours until the quest expires.”

“Twelve hours…” Elena muttered, her voice strained. “Guess I’m pulling an all-nighter. I’m losing my sightlines, Jax. Get me some illumination. I can’t hit what I can’t see in this pitch black.”

Vance, who had been pacing nervously nearby, immediately barked orders at his men. Within minutes, they dragged several heavy, battery-powered searchlights to the roof edge.

The halogen bulbs flared to life, cutting through the gloom and painting the ruined streets below in harsh, blinding white. The shadows writhed as dozens of insect monsters shrieked, exposed in the stark light.

A grim smile touched Elena’s lips. Her hair was plastered to her forehead with cold sweat, her shoulder undoubtedly bruised black and blue from hours of recoil, but she chambered another round and went right back to work.

Watching her, Jax felt a pang of pragmatic guilt. I’ve been pushing them too hard without upgrading their limits, he thought. The Champion’s Altar has an open slot. The second we survive this, I’m investing in their stats.

“Alright, let’s establish a rotation,” Jax announced to the rest of the exhausted crew. “Get the fires going. It’s chow time.”

The smell of boiling rice and canned meat soon drifted across the rooftop. The haggard survivors from Vance’s Outpost formed a line instantly. Their eyes were wide, hollow, and fixed hungrily on the steaming pots. In the wasteland, a hot meal wasn’t just food; it was a reason to keep fighting.

As Jax called out, “Dinner is served!” everyone picked up their bowls and chopsticks, spontaneously forming a long queue.