Sleeping Player (Project Chrysalis Book 3) John Gold (simple e reader TXT) 📖

I remember. As soon as she shows up, I’ll be sure to tell her to wait for you. Don’t worry, I know you’re out there every day watching the door.”

The tavern owner watched LJ walk away, his heart overwhelmed with sympathy and grief. LJ turned and saw him wipe away a tear. But why? It was okay—the cat didn’t mind waiting for Milisandra. She had just been held up.

Construction was going on across the vacant lot. They were building six houses all at once, and they always needed workers. LJ heard one of them ask another to help him carry a beam, so he jumped in to help—one ton was nothing for him.

After a couple times of that happening, the brigadier offered him a job. LJ was able to earn money for food at the same time as he kept an eye on the tavern. The crew had him hauling construction materials and doing other dirty work, all of which seemed very familiar. He didn’t want to remember, however—his head started hurting. The image of a blood knight floated in front him all day long… A girl… Memories of her movements, stances, strikes, blocks, counterattacks. Each move was perfect, and LJ could remember difficult battles he’d never fought in. It could have all been written off as his imagination if it weren’t for the fact that all the movements the knight girl pulled off worked. LJ tried them all. Each was flawless, saving energy and doing maximum damage.

While at work, the cat found a vine that he decided to use as a tail. A little warmth, and it was covered in lovely-smelling flowers. LJ thought for a while about how he was going to attach his new tail. It definitely wasn’t going to grow out of his body. Ultimately, he tied one end to his belt, while the other end grew into a fluffy, flowering tail that moved at the will of its master. LJ was the most unusual cat in the world.

After each day on the job, he bought food at the tavern and asked about Milisandra. The owner always told him that she still hadn’t shown up.

The tree grew a little larger every day, and LJ couldn’t have been happier. The crown was lush and a juicy green; three grown men couldn’t have reached around the perfectly smooth trunk. LJ slept ten meters above the ground.

Every night, sick and injured forest animals came from the side of the unfinished wall. They were all there looking for LJ’s care and help, and he gave it to them. Freeloaders were tossed out in a heap—he only helped those who really needed it. LJ continued to thank the tree for its shelter by burying everything he was given under it. All he needed was food and a place to stay, and he could get his own food.

The month passed, and LJ paid for the rooms once again. The houses were built, with construction moving on to infrastructure. Buildings stood on three sides of the field. Sewers and other pipes had to be dug, so a trench appeared to cut across it. LJ was offered and accepted the job. There were plenty of players in the city, but none of them wanted to do such heavy work for such little pay. It was perfect for LJ, on the other hand—he could stay nearby and wait for Milisandra. Since he couldn’t see the entrance from down in the trench he was digging, he strained his ears in an attempt to catch the sound of her voice. He had plenty of strength, and digging was almost too easy. They brought an especially large shovel just for LJ the next day. Using it was harder, but that made his inner voice happy. It turned out that he was getting stronger and stronger every day. A week later, LJ was handed an even larger shovel. His inner voice liked that too.

In his free time, during the evenings, LJ laid in the tree and watched the tavern door. The world wasn’t quite as dark despite the fact that the crescent moon couldn’t break through the overcast sky. LJ could see people walking along the road as well as those creeping along outside the city walls at night. His memory kept kicking up the battles the blood knight fought, and they got slower and more detailed. Sometimes, LJ thought he could feel which muscles worked during certain strikes. He spent two or three hours every night practicing the attacks and stances. Slowly, with time, he gauged his movements and understood how to fight. He was quiet and precise in the dark, relying completely on his senses. But even in those moments, he never lost sight of the tavern door. Milisandra was going to come back, and he was going to be there waiting.

Thanks to LJ’s help, the pipes were laid in just three weeks. LJ didn’t leave the field, so he turned down offers to work elsewhere. But then, on the second day after work on the pipes wrapped up, a new brigadier arrived and asked him if he wanted to help with some service buildings that would be used by the people living in the houses surrounding the field. LJ agreed—you never know what’s going to happen in life, so you should always work. Winter was coming, and that area got awfully cold.

LJ spent his days building bathhouses, sheds, and barns; laying roads; setting up fences; and digging wells. There was lots of work to do. He was offered the hardest jobs, and he always accepted. Another week went by, and LJ handed over enough money to cover the rooms for yet another month. He had enough to spend the whole winter there, though he didn’t mind the cold. His plan was to spend the winter in his tree.

It had become a behemoth over the two and a half months he’d been there, and its