Apocalypse Architect: A Tower Defense LitRPG

Chapter 79: The Human Printer

The black rain continued to hammer the city, drumming a relentless, toxic rhythm against the armored glass. Jax stepped back into the warmth of Sawyer’s villa, peeling off his heavy slicker. Acidic runoff pooled around his combat boots, staining the expensive rug.

Sawyer looked up from the sofa, relief instantly washing over his features. He set his coffee aside and crossed the room with hurried strides.

“Well? Is it handled? Did Aris sign off?”

Jax shook his head, his expression cold. “The people inside wouldn’t even let me through the door. I’m done wasting my breath on them. I’m not going back to that facility.”

He gestured to the coffee table. “I’ll draw the blueprints right here, right now. What you do with them after that is your business. Just get me a pen and paper.”

Sawyer blinked, taken aback by the sudden friction. He turned his gaze to Vance, who was standing beside Jax, looking like he’d just swallowed a lemon.

“Captain Vance,” Sawyer said, his voice dropping an octave. “What the hell happened?”

Vance let out a hiss of frustration. He hadn’t stopped Jax from walking away earlier, but now that the adrenaline had faded, he realized the gravity of the situation.

“Supervisor Sawyer, you have no idea,” Vance spat, his hands balling into fists. “That R&D team… they’re impossible. It’s not just Dr. Aris. The gatekeepers, the guards, the junior designers—they look at us like we’re cockroaches. We tried to explain, but they wouldn’t even listen.”

Vance launched into a tirade, detailing the insults and the blatant disrespect they had endured. Sawyer listened, his brow furrowing deeper with every sentence. He knew the situation at the R&D center was toxic. The Helios Syndicate had poached those engineers from rival factions and high-tier Outposts at exorbitant rates. To keep them happy, Headquarters had given them carte blanche. Even Sawyer, a Supervisor, had little sway over their domain.

After a long silence, Sawyer slammed his hand onto the armrest. “Damn it. They’ve crossed the line this time.” He turned to Jax, his expression apologetic. “Jax, I am truly sorry. I shouldn’t have sent you into the lion’s den without backup. That was my oversight.”

Sawyer sighed, rubbing his temples. “Fine. Draw the blueprints here. I’ll handle the politics. I’m going to file a formal report with Headquarters. You’ll get the respect you deserve, I promise.”

“I don’t care about their respect,” Jax said flatly. “I just want this done. Get me the paper. Once I hand these over, I’m heading straight to Redrock Bastion. I’ve wasted enough time in the Sprawl.”

Sawyer laughed, the tension breaking. “Easy there, brother. I appreciate the urgency, but I’ve already pulled some strings. I reported your situation to the higher-ups. They’re processing the revocation of your wanted status as we speak. Give it forty-eight hours, and you’ll be a free man. Rushing the gate now would just get you shot. Stay here. I’ll have the guest wing prepped for you.”

Sawyer signaled the butler, whispering instructions. The servant nodded and vanished into the hallway to prepare the room.

Jax sank onto the leather sofa. When the supplies arrived, he didn’t hesitate. He picked up the stylus and closed his eyes, focusing on the interface hovering in his peripheral vision.

[System Interface: Blueprints]

He cycled through the available schematics. Currently, only the Tier 1 Sentry Tower and Tier 1 Howitzer Turret were unlocked. The Tier 2 variants remained greyed out.

As he studied the schematics, Jax realized something strange. The blueprints displayed by the System were not identical to the structures he had built in his own base.

His personal Sentry Towers ran on Energy Shards, using a high-tech conversion matrix to fabricate ammunition from pure energy. But the blueprint floating in his mind now… it was different. It called for locally sourced steel, scavenged hydraulic parts, and chemical propellants common in Redrock Bastion. There was no mention of Energy Shards.

Smart, Jax thought. The System automatically adjusted the schematic for public consumption.

“System,” he subvocalized. “The structural logic is different. Why?”

[Affirmative. To protect System security and User privacy, exportable blueprints are automatically downgraded to use conventional materials.]

“So I can’t accidentally leak your existence?”

[Correct. Furthermore, revealing advanced Energy Shard technology at your current power level would result in a 98% probability of hostility from major factions.]

Jax smirked. It made sense. If the Helios Syndicate knew he had towers that generated infinite ammo from magical crystals, they wouldn’t hire him—they’d dissect him. These conventional blueprints were a perfect cover. They were superior to anything Aris could design, but still grounded in understandable physics.

He touched the pen to the paper.

The moment ink met fiber, Jax felt a jolt. His hand didn’t feel like his own. It moved with robotic stability. He didn’t just draw; he executed.

Zip.

A perfect circle appeared. No compass, no guide. Just a flawless geometric shape.

He flicked his wrist. A straight line bisected the circle, precise to the millimeter.

Holy shit, Jax mused, watching his hand work independently of his conscious effort. I’m a human CNC machine. Who needs a ruler when you have a System interface?

Standing nearby, Sawyer and Vance watched in stunned silence.

“Look at that line work,” Vance whispered, his eyes widening. “He didn’t even measure it. It’s… mechanical.”

“The scale markings,” Sawyer murmured, leaning in. “They’re perfect. Is this his Awakened ability? Some kind of super-precision drafting?”

The two men stood there, barely daring to breathe, watching the master at work.

Jax worked for hours. The pile of finished drawings grew steadily. Although these were only Tier 1 structures, the complexity was staggering. Hundreds of individual components, gear ratios, and structural stress points needed to be documented.

Finally, Jax grabbed a large A1 sheet and sketched the final assembly diagram, linking every component into an exploded view that even an idiot could follow.

He dropped the pen and exhaled.

[Ding!] [Mission Completed.] [Title Obtained: Journeyman Architect] [Unlocked Class Skill: Aero-Step] [Aero-Step: Channel energy to momentarily defy gravity. Capable of mid-air jumps and short-duration levitation. Duration: 60 Seconds.]

Jax suppressed a grin. Aero-Step. It was basically a double-jump mechanic combined with low-gravity maneuvering. One minute wasn’t long, but in a fight against a Tier 3 beast, sixty seconds of flight was the difference between life and death.

It was a trump card. And in this world, you kept your trump cards hidden until the hammer dropped.

He stretched his aching back and pushed the stack of papers toward the Syndicate envoy.

“Sawyer, it’s done. The smaller sheets are the component specs. This big one is the assembly guide. Tell your engineers to follow the sequence exactly. If they try to improvise, the thing will collapse.”

Jax tapped a separate stack. “And these are for the Howitzer Turret. It’s designed for crowd control—splash damage, high impact. The fuel mixture is standard for this region, so your supply chain should handle it. Everything is noted in the margins.”

Sawyer picked up the assembly guide. He wasn’t an engineer, but the clarity of the drawing was undeniable. It was a work of art. The logic of the design leapt off the page.

“Incredible,” Sawyer breathed, looking at Jax with newfound respect. “Truly incredible. I knew you were good, Jax, but I didn’t know you were this good.”

Jax stood up, his face impassive. “I’m tired. I need to crash.”

“Of course, of course!” Sawyer snapped his fingers. “Butler! Escort Mr. Jax to the guest suite. Draw a hot bath and get him fresh clothes. And listen—tonight, we feast. Contact the Gilded Lotus. Order their best banquet table and have it delivered here. Get the vintage wine from the cellar!”

The butler bowed deeply. Jax gave a curt nod and followed the servant down the hall, leaving the two men staring at the blueprints as if they were holy scripture.