Apocalypse Architect: A Tower Defense LitRPG

Chapter 74: The Blueprint System

Jax tuned out the street gossip. He had no time to correct rumors about his godhood. He located a convoy, rented a battered off-road vehicle, and gunned it toward The Sprawl.

When he arrived, the city looked less like a refuge and more like a fortress in the making. Construction crews swarmed every block. The skeletal frames of Defense Towers rose against the gray sky, their bases shielded by heavy wooden hoardings to prevent industrial espionage.

Jax counted at least a hundred sites. The Sprawl was bracing for impact.

He navigated through the chaotic streets, heading straight for The Helios Syndicate’s compound. He had passed it once before, back when he was a fugitive fleeing Redrock Bastion, but he had kept his head down then.

Now, he walked up to the heavy iron gates and knocked. Three sharp raps.

A viewing slot slid open. A guard stared out, a rifle barrel glinting in the gloom.

“Identify yourself.”

Jax didn’t speak. He simply held up the obsidian token given to him by the Syndicate.

The guard’s eyes widened. The slot slammed shut, and the heavy gates groaned open.

“Mr. Jax! My apologies,” the guard said, lowering his weapon. “Supervisor Sawyer has been expecting you. Please, come in.”

Jax stepped inside, his eyes immediately scanning the defenses.

The compound was a fortress within a city. A massive assembly hall dominated the center, flanked by three-story barracks. But what caught Jax’s attention were the two Sentry Towers guarding the inner sanctum. They were sleek, humming with energy—definitely Tier 3 or higher.

An attendant hurried over, holding a black umbrella to shield Jax from the drizzle, despite Jax already wearing a raincoat.

“Mr. Jax, please wait in the lounge. I will inform the Supervisor immediately.”

“Appreciate it.”

The attendant’s deference was a stark contrast to the cutthroat attitude outside. It reminded Jax of high-end hospitality from the old world—a ghost of civilization lingering in the apocalypse.

Moments later, a hearty laugh echoed from the hallway.

“Brother Jax! My apologies for the wait!”

Sawyer strode into the room, looking immaculate in a crisp white dress shirt that seemed impossibly clean for the wasteland. He gripped Jax’s hand firmly. “Come, sit! We have much to discuss.”

Jax shed his wet raincoat and followed Sawyer into the main parlor.

The floor was polished marble. The furniture was genuine rosewood. The sofa looked like it cost more than a commoner’s life.

“Make yourself at home,” Sawyer said, gesturing to the plush seating. “Don’t stand on ceremony.”

Jax sank into the sofa, the leather groaning softly under his weight. He ran a hand over the armrest, a wave of nostalgia hitting him.

In his previous life—before the Systems, the bugs, and the blood—he had been a corporate drone drowning in a mortgage, scraping by on a salary that barely covered rent. Furniture like this belonged in the executive suites he was never allowed to enter. Now, amidst the ruin of the world, he was being treated like a king.

A woman in a silk cheongsam approached silently, placing a steaming porcelain cup on the side table.

“Freshly ground,” Sawyer noted. “A rarity these days.”

Jax picked up the cup, stirring it gently with the silver spoon. He took a sip, savoring the bitterness.

“Arabica. Dark roast,” Jax murmured. “Your barista knows their craft.”

Sawyer raised an eyebrow. He had expected the wasteland warlord to gulp it down like water. Instead, Jax handled the fine china with the casual grace of an aristocrat.

He’s not just a brute, Sawyer analyzed. He has culture. History.

“You didn’t come here just for the coffee, Brother Jax,” Sawyer said, leaning forward, his tone shifting to business. “What can The Helios Syndicate do for you?”

Jax set the cup down with a soft clink.

“I need to get into Redrock Bastion.”

Sawyer paused, his expression turning thoughtful. “Redrock… That is complicated. You are aware the warrant for your arrest is still active there? If you walk through the gates, you’ll be in chains before you clear customs.”

“I know,” Jax said calmly. “That’s why I’m here. You didn’t say ‘no,’ Sawyer. You said it would be complicated. That means it’s possible.”

Sawyer chuckled, relaxing back into his chair. “Sharp. Yes, we have influence. We can pull strings, perhaps even have the warrant quashed and secure you a safehouse. But…”

“But there’s no such thing as a free lunch,” Jax finished.

“Exactly.” Sawyer’s eyes glinted. “We are businessmen, not a charity. I help you, you help me.”

“Name your price.”

Sawyer leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “The Insect Swarm is coming. This isn’t just a threat; it’s a market shift. The family that survives this with the most strength will rule the aftermath. I’ve seen what you built in that valley. Your Sentry Towers. Your Howitzers. They are… advanced.”

Sawyer let the silence hang for a moment before dropping the hammer.

“We want the blueprints.”

Jax kept his face impassive. He had expected this. But truthfully, he didn’t have physical blueprints to give. His structures were System-generated constructs. Even if he drew them on a napkin, without the System, they were just drawings.

[System Alert: New Mission Triggered] [Mission: Slayer of the Web] [Objective: Kill one Tier 3 Acid-Web Arachnid.] [Reward: Blueprint System Activation (Ability to generate shareable schematics).] [Failure Penalty: None.]

Jax blinked.

Seriously? The System was practically listening to the conversation. It was offering him exactly what he needed to close the deal.

Generate shareable schematics… so I can actually trade tech now?

Jax looked up, meeting Sawyer’s intense gaze.

“I can do it,” Jax said smoothly. “I can provide you with the blueprints for the Sentry Towers and the Howitzer Turrets. But I have a condition.”

Sawyer’s face lit up with undisguised triumph. “Name it! Credits? Resources? Women? Anything within our power!”

“I need you to take me to a Tier 3 Acid-Web Arachnid,” Jax said. “And let me kill it.”

Sawyer froze. He blinked twice, processing the request.

“I… beg your pardon? You want a Tier 3 Core?”

“No,” Jax corrected. “I don’t need the Core. I need the kill. I need the combat data.”

Sawyer looked bewildered. Most people asked for safety or gold. Jax was asking for a cage match with a monster.

“We… actually have one,” Sawyer admitted slowly. “Captured alive for R&D purposes. It’s in the sub-basement laboratory. If you really want to fight it… I can arrange access immediately.”

“Good,” Jax stood up, buttoning his coat. “Let’s go. Time is money.”

Sawyer stood as well, shaking his head in disbelief. As they walked toward the door, he couldn’t help but ask.

“Brother Jax, I have to ask. You walked in here alone. You offered up your most valuable secrets—your technology—without hesitation. Aren’t you afraid we’d just take the towers by force? Why trust us?”

Jax stopped at the door, glancing back at the luxurious room.

“Because you’re a businessman, Sawyer. You know the difference between one full meal and a lifetime of feasts.”

Jax smiled, a cold, knowing expression.

“Killing the goose that lays the golden eggs is for bandits. The Helios Syndicate? You’re farmers. You prefer a harvest.”

Sawyer stared at him for a second, then burst into laughter, giving Jax a thumbs-up.

“Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant. That is exactly why we wanted you. You see the big picture.”