by Tao Wong
Coast on Fire
An Apocalyptic LitRPG
Book 5 of the System Apocalypse
by
Tao Wong
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Coast on Fire
Copyright © 2018 Tao Wong. All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2018 Sarah Anderson Cover Designer
ISBN: 9781775380931
Contents
Copyright
What Has Gone Before
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
The End of Book 5 of the System Apocalypse
Author’s Note
About the Author
Glossary
Erethran Honor Guard Skill Tree
John’s Skills
Spells
Sabre’s Load-Out
Other Equipment
What Has Gone Before
Nearly two years have passed since the System came to Earth, bringing with it monsters, aliens and glowing blue boxes of notifications that detailed their lives in this new Galactic System. Humanity was forced to evolve, their lives dictated by statistic screens, Classes and Skills that gave them strength and abilities beyond the norm, providing them a fighting chance to survive. Still, the apocalypse saw the death of nearly 90% of humanity, the malfunctioning of everything electronic and a new, blood-filled existence.
John Lee was camping in the Yukon when the change occurred. Gifted with perks beyond the normal, he journeyed to Whitehorse and aided in the establishment of the city under the rule of the alien Truinnar, Lord Graxan Roxley. With the help of other survivors, the Village of Whitehorse was quickly established to provide a stable environment for growth, battling rampant dungeons, monster hordes and crazed humans in equal measure.
As Whitehorse was now firmly under the control of the Truinnar, John and his teammates left for British Columbia to aid the surviving members of humanity. There, they found a mixed bag of survivors and settlements. Some cities were ravaged, destroyed in infrastructure, population and hope. Others struggled on, under the control of other aliens and human control. Working together, the survivors and John battled the aggressive Thirteen Moon Sect in their attempts to take over British Columbia, eventually winning against the larger, more powerful alien organisation.
Now the owner of numerous settlements in British Columbia including Vancouver, Kamloops and Kelowna, John must deal with the politics of the settlements and continue with his plans of liberating as much of humanity as possible.
Chapter 1
I’ve kited a Salamander over forty Levels above me. Had a Master Level Psychic fry my brain. Hell, I’ve even faced down a Dragon. I’ve faced calamities and crises, fought and bled, nearly died more times than I care to admit. For all that, I’d rather go back to any of those times than stay a single minute longer in this meeting room.
“Electronic voting is a farce! We cannot trust his AI to count the votes!” Christian Hecker, Level 38 Infantry Soldier and ex-CEO of a gold mining corporation, says as he leans forward. The mid-60s, brown-eyed, greying Caucasian gentleman is bereft of his rifle today, though he has his sword slung over his back and a pistol on his hip.
I regard the boomer as he besmirches Kim—my AI’s—honor, wondering what his angle is. As one side of the split Combat Classers, I’ve quickly learned that Christian always has an angle.
“We’re not doing a straight democratic election,” snaps Damian. The Level 22 Appraiser is spinning a pen around his fingers, obviously uneasy in our company. He’s got the lowest Level of everyone here, even if it is rising faster now that the Thirteen Moon Sect isn’t around. Still, as the voice of the scavengers, he has the moral right to be here. One that I’d had to enforce by dismissing an earlier meeting when he had been “unavoidably delayed.” “That’d just let you people load up all the seats with your friends.”
“You people?” Anika arches a graceful, plucked eyebrow. Ms. Kapoor, the Level 39 Summoner, is one of the few non-Caucasians in this room.
“I believe he means the non-Delvers,” I answer Anika, smiling slightly in amusement at Damian’s poor phrasing.
She inclines her head to me, appearing somewhat mollified. Truthfully, I figure getting annoyed over bad phrasing shows how uptight she is, but my role isn’t to judge, just pacify.
“Rationed seats are wrong,” Tsien Wuji says. He’s a Level 39 Engineer specializing in infrastructure construction. He’s also an influential member of the non-Combat Classers, Damien’s counterpart, and the other of the pair of their representatives, the more talkative of the two.
“Allocated,” Leo Brand says with a sigh, covering his face with his hand.
There are a few quick smiles around the room as Leo once again corrects Wuji’s malapropism. Leo’s an ex-ER doctor, now a Doctor who finds most of his life’s work superfluous. After all, with the System, if you’re not dead, you’ll heal. And since he’s a self-professed coward who refuses to enter the city dungeon, he’s been at a bit of a loss as to what to do with himself.
“Will you finally buy a Language upgrade in the Shop? I’ll even pay for it,” Anika says once again with a roll of her eyes.
“No need. Waste money,” Wuji denies her offer once again.
“We cannot continue this farce of a government any longer. My people want results!” Christian says, ignoring the byplay as he pushes ahead with his agenda. “They are sick and tired of being locked out of decisions about their city.”
“Farce?” Ali says, floating visible beside me. The two-foot-tall Sprite chuckles softly, his olive skin beautifully off-set by the dark suit and cream shirt he wears. “Did you call boy-o a farce?”
“Farce?” Wuji whispers to Leo. His friend leans over to explain the word.
“I consider this unelected government, this tyrannical rule of your boy-o a farce,” Christian says.
When we first met, Christian had been the less combative of the pair of combat Classer leaders. The last week of dealing with me has worn away the false warmth he showcased before I rejected his subtle manipulation and, later on, bribes.
“It’s certainly better than what we had with the Thirteen Moons,” Anika says, waving around the noisy conference room. The wave also encompasses my only direct support in the room—Lana, my girlfriend and the more politically inclined part of my team. Though, by common agreement, she stays silent during these meetings, letting me take the brunt of criticism and allowing her to work her charm during the breaks. “We’re at least having a meeting. Even if someone doesn’t listen to us.”
Finally fed up with the various barbs, I speak up. “I’d listen if you people ever came to an agreement.”
“We would, but your irrational requirements are impossible to meet!” Christian snaps.
“Oh? All I’m asking is that you all come to a reasonable agreement on what the government would look like,” I say. “I’m only here today because you promised me that you would have an agreement by today.”
“We promised that we’d have something to discuss with you,” Anika says, eyes dancing with humor. “I’ll admit, we haven’t gotten that far though.”
“Fine. Since I’m here, someone sum up the sticking points.”
Silence takes hold of the conference room at those words. The various “council” members suddenly find anywhere to look but at me. Wuji opens his mouth to speak, but Leo puts his hand on the man’s arm, shaking his head. The older Chinese man subsides, allowing Damian to clear his throat.
“Well, we’re currently facing a problem of deciding both the number of seats on the council and the method of election. The Delvers and ummm… my people, are looking for a guarantee that our voices will be heard. We refuse to continue to risk our lives, bringing in more revenue and goods than the ummm…” Damian stops there.
“You can call them civilians. Or crafters if you want,” Ali offers. “The closest translation to the Galactic term is Artisan. Feel free to use it or not.”
Damian nods in gratitude to Ali before he continues more confidently. “The Artisans want a straight election, but because of the ratio of combat Classers and Artisans—”
“Are you sure you want to base your argument on revenue?” Anika says wryly. “They’ll eventually beat us, you know. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if their generated revenues are already greater than ours if you include the other cities.”
“That’s not the point!” Christian says. “We are just trying to ensure we are not sent into battle and forced to guard people, without a say!”
Damian sighs and looks at me, his gaze serious. “I must admit my people have that concern too. Scavenging is growing more and more difficult with returns growing smaller. Sooner or later, I expect that most of my people will turn into hunters or delvers. And at that point, well…”
“We don’t want the Artisans sending us into dangerous zones just so they can get better crafting material. Or under-paying for those items,” Anika says.
“We not do that. The Shop set ceiling. Floor. Stopping place,” Wuji says. “We pay good price. Get materials from you.”
“A good price because you want the city to subsidize the purchases!” Christian snaps. “Otherwise, there’s no way you’d be able to afford the Galactic price for most of our better material.”
I sigh, listening to the argument devolve. No real surprise here. I’ve had Lana explain this discussion before, since it’s similar to the one we had in Whitehorse. Simply put, low-cost materials almost always receive a better price locally. The cost of transportation often makes it possible for local Artisans to purchase those materials at a similar, if not slightly higher, price than what Galactic buyers would pay. However, and this is a big however, high Level materials aren’t the same. The cost of transportation for high-Level materials is significantly lower as a percentage of price, which means Galactic buyers, who are both more numerous and better funded, can often offer a higher price than locals. Part of the reason is that for Artisans to gain Levels, they need to constantly challenge themselves with better materials. It’s also one of the reasons why the cost of high Level enchantments and equipment climbs steeply.
It doesn’t help that since we’re on a Dungeon World with a consummate increase in Mana flow, we actually have a larger number of spawnings. That means that the volume of low-to-medium quality crafting material is higher, which of course results in greater efficiencies in transportation since Galactic corps can do larger mass teleportations or send bigger transport ships. All in all, it means that our crafters are in a bad competitive situation.
“We must Level!” Wuji insists.
“But taxing our purchases and sales puts our lives at risk,” Anika says softly. “We need that equipment, those Class Skills. You don’t put your lives at risk every time you try to Level.”
“So we’re not as important?” Leo says without heat. “Our lives don’t matter?”
“You’re not risking yours,” Christian snaps.
I groan, watching them start up again. That barely attracts any attention, so I smack my hand on the table, grabbing everyone’s attention. “All right, people. I’ve got another meeting to go to, so you guys keep talking. We’ll talk again in another week.”
“That’s—”
“No, we need to—”
“These delays are unacceptable!” Christian says, standing.
“That’s nice,” I say with a smile to everyone, ignoring the various protests as I open a Portal.
Lana and Roland, her pet tiger, duck into the Portal first. The pitch-black hole in space swallows them without a ripple. Three quick steps, even while the council calls for me to come back, and a closed Portal later, I’m free.
A grin splits my face as I draw a deep breath of the sweet, sweet air of freedom.
“Ack!” I cough, a burning pain in my throat and lungs.
You are Poisoned
-3 HP per second
Duration: (Continuous till you are out of the cloud)
“Where did you bring us?” Lana says, her voice muffled by the helmet she’s put on.
A moment later, my helmet expands from the collar around my neck, covering my face and clearing the air. I’m still poisoned, but it’s no longer dangerous as my System-assisted healing fights the toxin.
“Just outside of Kelowna actually,” I say with a frown, sword in hand as I survey our surroundings. Poison clouds aren’t normal, as far as I know. I have to admit, I’ve only been here thrice since the change.
“Floating Poisonous Cloud. Not sure why, but it seems to be directed by the wind. Kim’s telling me that wisps of this have hit the city, but nothing major. They’re keeping the kids and other vulnerables inside, but prevailing winds will have the cloud gone in an hour,” Ali says as he stares at notifications only he can see.
“Ali says it’s natural. Sort of. Nothing to be concerned about,” I tell Lana. She nods firmly, and we walk toward to the city. After a moment, I realize something. “Where’s Roland?”
“He’s already left.”
“Ah… good.” I nod and keep walking. Ever since she picked up the tiger, he’s become her constant companion, even more than the puppies. “Wanted to ask you something. You’ve been hovering at Level 49 for a while now. Is something going on?”
“Nothing major. I’ve been channeling my experience to Roland to upgrade his Level. You remember, he was a bit on the lower end when we found him.”
“You can do that?”
“It’s a benefit of being a Linked companion for me. Makes it easier to find new companions and upgrade them. It only works until he hits my Level, then we’ll upgrade at the same time.”
“Are you going to continue that till he hits Level 49?” I say, trying to recall Roland’s Level now—32 or something like that?
“Not sure yet,” Lana says.
I nod, and we continue the walk in silence through the invisible cloud of poison, enjoying the beautiful, sunshine-lit valley, verdant plains with the occasional pine trees, and the river beside us, glittering with blue.
“Why did you drop us out so far?”
“Oh… umm…” I stutter. “Well…”
Lana arches an eyebrow at me before the buxom redhead takes my arm and squeezes her bountiful treasures into me. “Were you thinking of taking me for a walk?”
“Well… yeah. It’s beautiful out here. Except for the cloud…” I sigh, shaking my head. “We haven’t… well…” I fall silent, still uncomfortable talking about things like this.
Lana smiles, bonking her helmeted head against m
ine with a friendly nudge. “You couldn’t have known. It was very sweet, and it is still beautiful.”
I smile at that, relaxing slightly and giving the arm that holds mine a squeeze. For the next while, I can afford to just be a man walking his lady, talking about our days. For a while, I can put aside the niggling questions of what the Sect is doing, if the Duchess intends to expand south, and what, if anything, I’ll do about the Americans.
For a little while.
Kelowna has seen better days. The once-picturesque town beside the river is still beautiful from a distance, but if you get closer, you notice the burnt-out buildings, abandoned vehicles, and occasional brown lawn. There’s a desolate feeling to the city, which is significantly magnified in the abandoned outskirts.
Luckily, it takes us a while to receive the “entering Town” notification. The Sect was kind enough to actually decrease the settlement boundary to just East Kelowna, and even then, only the downtown region near the river and a bit east of that is considered Town. I’m grateful for them spending their funds on that, because otherwise, the settlement itself would still be in the Village stage, unable to reach the minimum land-owned threshold.
I still find it amusing that somehow, the town’s City Center is the Benvoulin Church, rather than a more central location. I’m sure there’s a study with a complex mathematical analysis of why each location is picked, especially for Dungeon Worlds, but that’s a book even I refuse to read. I’m still debating if I should pay to shift the city center orb somewhere safer and more central, but for now, the church works.
As we walk into the historical, picturesque steepled place of worship, we’re greeted by the titular overseer of the city. The older gentleman waves his show cane at me, no longer needing it thanks to the System, and greets me with a smile.
“John!” Kyle says. “Didn’t expect you till later.”
