Apocalypse Architect: A Tower Defense LitRPG

Chapter 77: Blueprint System Ability

Jax moved in silence, his boots crunching rhythmically on the gravel as he followed Vance toward the inner sanctum of the R&D facility.

But as they reached the checkpoint, a hand shot out, blocking his path. The squad leader, a man with grease-stained fatigues and a sneer etched into his face, loomed over him.

“Hold it right there, kid. Let me make something clear,” the guard growled, jerking a thumb toward the reinforced doors. “Inside is precision tech. Expensive tech. If your clumsy hands break anything, you pay for it with your life.”

Jax barely broke stride. He offered a curt nod. “Understood.”

The guard bristled at Jax’s flat, dismissive tone. He let out a cold snort.

“Look at him, putting on airs,” the guard spat, glancing at his subordinates. “I’ve seen plenty of your type—rats scurrying in from the slums, hoping to scam a meal or steal a bolt. Watch yourself, or I’ll toss you out on your ass personally.”

Jax ignored the barb. It was a common pathology in The Sprawl. These men, barely lifted from the gutter themselves by a minor appointment from the Great Families, clung to their scraps of authority with desperate claws. Their arrogance often eclipsed that of the Helios Syndicate members they served. Sudden wealth didn’t buy class; it just bought the audacity to spit on those still in the mud.

As they pushed deeper into the complex, Jax scanned the perimeter with a tactical eye. Defense Towers loomed like silent sentinels against the grey sky. Interestingly, the internal mechanisms were exposed—no protective casing. The engineers here were arrogant, relying on the hundreds of guards patrolling the sector rather than physical armor to protect their secrets.

Vance rubbed the back of his neck, looking pained. “Uh, sorry about that, Jax. These guys… they have a habit of judging a book by its cover. Don’t let it get to you.”

Jax waved a hand, his gaze still fixed on a hydraulic pivot. “It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

Seeing Jax’s genuinely unbothered expression, Vance exhaled, relieved. But just as they turned the corner, Jax’s voice drifted calmly from behind him.

“Though, we should find an opportunity to tear them down from their pedestals eventually.”

Vance stumbled, stunned. He looked back, but Jax’s face was serene. Vance shook his head, a bitter smile on his lips. “Easier said than done. My authority stops at the gate. I answer to Manager Sun, but this R&D center? It’s under the direct jurisdiction of the Helios Syndicate in Redrock Bastion. Technically, even the janitor here outranks me.”

Jax offered a faint, inscrutable smile. “Relax. I was just joking.”

They continued forward, navigating a labyrinth of checkpoints. After a tedious process of registration and weapons surrender, a technician approached them with two black rubber bands laced with conductive silver filaments.

“Wrist check,” the technician grunted, snapping the bands onto their arms.

Vance leaned in, his voice dropped to a whisper. “Ether-Dampeners, Jax. They track metabolic energy spikes. If you channel an Ability inside the perimeter, the alarms trip instantly. Unauthorized use of power gets you a one-way ticket to a holding cell.”

Jax nodded, accepting the shackle without complaint. He wasn’t worried. The device monitored biological Awakening currents. It couldn’t detect the System interface layered over his reality. To their sensors, he was just a man.

They arrived at the foot of a seven-story concrete blockhouse. Vance marched up to the security desk and slapped Sawyer’s sealed missive onto the surface.

The security captain tore open the envelope, scanned the contents, and frowned deeply. He looked up, his eyes narrowing as they landed on Jax.

“This is the guy?”

“Yes,” Vance said, straightening his posture. “He possesses blueprints vital to the Syndicate. We need immediate access.”

A ripple of laughter tore through the guard post. The soldiers leaned back in their chairs, eyeing Jax’s worn gear with open mockery.

“Vance, did the sandstorms rot your eyes?” the captain scoffed, tossing the letter onto the desk. “Look at him. His clothes are practically threadbare. You expect me to believe a slum rat has Tier 3 schematics tucked in his pocket?”

“Exactly,” another soldier chimed in, cleaning his fingernails with a combat knife. “We build heavy artillery here, Vance. Not scrap-metal toys. We’re engineering towers to kill Tier 3 horrors, not rad-roaches.”

Vance’s face heated up. He remembered Sawyer’s warning before they left: Never underestimate the quiet ones.

“That’s enough!” Vance slammed his hand on the desk. “We are here to see Chief Engineer Aris. Open the damn door!”

The laughter died instantly. The atmosphere in the room plummeted.

“Oh?” The captain stood up slowly, his hand resting on his holster. “Getting a bit full of yourself, aren’t you, Vance? I call you ‘Captain’ out of professional courtesy, but don’t think for a second you’re actually somebody. You’re a low-tier Awakened. In here, you’re nothing. So sit down and shut up.”

“Keep an eye on the kid,” the captain barked to his men, not breaking eye contact with Vance. “I suspect he’s here to freeload. If he tries to pocket even a single screw, arrest him.”

Jax stood impassively, used to the barking of dogs. But Vance had reached his limit. His pride as an Awakened, however minor, was being shredded. He glared at the captain, his fists trembling.

Click-clack.

The sound of a dozen safety catches disengaging filled the room. In a heartbeat, the muzzles of assault rifles were leveled at Vance’s chest.

The captain smirked, disdain dripping from his voice. “What? Want to dance? Come on, Vance. Don’t be stupid. You’re outnumbered and outgunned.”

Vance froze. The cold reality of the barrel tips sobered him up.

Jax stepped forward and placed a steady hand on Vance’s shoulder. “Let it go, Vance. They aren’t worth the ammo.”

Vance exhaled sharply, the fight draining out of him. He felt a knot of humiliation tighten in his chest—not for Jax, but for his own powerlessness. In this world, strength was the only currency, and he just didn’t have enough of it.

They were left to stew in the waiting area for thirty minutes. Finally, the intercom buzzed.

“Send the stray in.”

Jax glanced at the heavy steel door. His patience was fraying. If not for his agreement with Sawyer, he would have walked away. The blueprint in his inventory was only Tier 1, but with the right modifications, it was the key to next-generation defense. These idiots had no idea they were sneering at a goldmine.

Focus, Jax told himself. Get inside, get the clearance, save Tanya.

He pushed past the smirking guards and knocked on the inner office door.

“Enter,” a weary voice called out.

Jax stepped into a chaotic office cluttered with drafting paper and mechanical parts. A bespectacled man—Dr. Aris—sat hunched over a drafting table, a magnifying glass in one hand and a stylus in the other.

Aris didn’t even look up. “There’s a chair in the corner. Sit. Don’t speak. I’m busy.”

Jax’s jaw tightened. He considered leaving right then. But he sat. Mission first.

His eyes wandered to the desk beside him. A large schematic lay unfurled, pinned down by heavy brass weights. The header read: [Prototype: Tier 2 Penetrator Ballista].

Jax leaned in. He had never studied engineering. He had never held a caliper in his life. But as his eyes traced the complex lines of the drive mechanism, a strange sensation washed over his brain. The ink seemed to lift from the page, rearranging itself into coherent data streams.

“Huh?” Jax blinked. “Why… why does this make sense? I can read the load distribution. I can see the energy flow.”

It was as natural as breathing.

System?

[System Notification: Blueprint Analysis Module Active.]

Passive Effect: The User can instantaneously decipher, analyze, and troubleshoot mechanical schematics.

Jax nearly laughed aloud. It was like waking up and suddenly being fluent in a foreign language.

“Incredible,” he whispered. “It’s like reading a primer.”

While Dr. Aris muttered over his own work, Jax reached out and picked up the Penetrator Ballista blueprint. His eyes darted across the specifications.

The awe faded instantly, replaced by professional disgust.

“This… this is garbage,” Jax muttered, his brow furrowing. “It’s riddled with fatal flaws. The tension spring is mounted backward. The torque ratio is too high for this alloy. If you build this, the barrel will shatter after three shots. It’s not a turret; it’s a pipe bomb.”

He tossed the blueprint back onto the desk with a scoff.

Dr. Aris’s pen stopped moving. The room went deadly silent.