Alpha Zero (Alpha LitRPG Book 1) Arthur Stone (hardest books to read .txt) 📖

the world, we are less significant than roaches in the basement. They might notice us, they might not. The roaches may not know about us, and we might not know about them. But they will realize our presence at some point. And we will learn of the masters of these lands at some point. Such as now, for example. Wild Wood is scary enough without masters. So many dangers dwell here. The neighbors had a baby that got eaten by ratwolves. They become deadly in the winter—even for adults, never mind babies. Another neighbor went out to check some traps and was never seen again. He just disappeared. We searched for him for many days, but found no trace. “The forest took him,” as they say. That kind of things happens in Wild Wood all the time. Even here, on the right bank of the Blackriver, terrors abound. Travelers in the forest can run into some of its many goblins. Or a troll. Or other things, worse things, things that must not be named. On the left bank, though, the situation is much worse. Death dwells there. There used to be villages over there, too. Even small towns, many years ago. None of those who lived across the river live anymore. Only here, near the Stone, is there some measure of peace and safety to be had. As long as you don’t venture too far north, away from it. Up there, everything is perilous. The Emperor of Pain is our enemy, yes, but he is our enemy. He is a foreigner to Wild Wood. When is the last time you saw roaches try to negotiate with the owners of their basement? They’re just roaches. Like us. And so, he also fears the forest, and wants to take the Stone for his own. This has long been a wood of war. I don’t even know when it started. But it will continue, tomorrow and beyond.”

“So what’s going to happen?”

“Did you hear the clang of metal from behind the central storehouse? That was Ash assembling his guards and his hunters. Tomorrow, they set out for the left bank. They’ll patrol around for a while and find no one, and then they’ll return here. This trading post doesn’t have the strength to actually catch any of our enemies. Even before—when we had more men—such an attempt wouldn’t have worked.”

“Why do we have fewer men now?” I wondered.

“Because this trading post doesn’t make much money. The merchants want more, and more, for the same price. So they’re trying to cut their costs and spend less on us—meaning they do not send new fighting forces our way. They send, instead, lousy workers. Lousy workers who do lousy work. That reduces the trading post’s output, of course. Yes, the land is wealthy here, with spices all around and in great quantities. But Ash only sends a few varieties of them down south. We lack workers with the necessary skills to acquire the rest.”

“Hmm. A vicious cycle of greed,” I agreed. “They cut labor costs, and then the cheap laborers produce much less. So they try to save more by sending cheaper workers still. A descending spiral.”

Beko nodded. “That’s why Ash is so harsh with everyone. The hands of thieves—those who take for themselves rather than for the trading post—must be broken if this place is to endure. Many of the workers sent our way are dishonest people. They’re given the option to either sign a work contract here or to go to jail. Those are the worst workers of all. Either they break contract, or they outright steal.”

“Our contract is a basket of fish per day,” I replied, “and they don’t pay us anything.”

“They give us a place to live,” Beko observed, “and the food is pretty good. We should be thankful.”

“I wonder how much they demand from everyone else?”

Beko shrugged. “Depends. They don’t rob us here, you know. We get paid. Anything more than the basket that’s in our contract earns us money.”

“Uh-huh, in squares, which aren’t real money.”

“Who cares, as long as they can buy anything that you can find here? If you head south, you can find a place to exchange them for ‘real’ coins. What’s that you’re drawing? I can’t make sense of it.”

“Blueprints.”

“What’s that?”

“A very accurate drawing of some project.”

“What’s the project?”

“Something fancy that’ll help us catch more fish. I need to go talk to the blacksmith and the carpenter to get the parts made. If we make some money tomorrow, it might be enough to pay them, but I really don’t know how much they’ll want.”

“I got some squares today. If you want them, they’re yours,” Beko offered.

I shook my head. “I don’t want you to go hungry come winter. You need to save up while you can.”

“I’ll die here if I’m all alone,” the ghoul said somberly, “and you’re not like the others. You’re weak, but you’re smart. And you’re the only one who treats me well. No one else does. Even my mother always yelled at me. You don’t do that. Plus, you’ve spent a lot of money on my account already, so if you need these squares, take them. Both you and I need this fishing invention of yours.”

After a moment’s pause, I nodded. “Fine. But once this invention is complete, we’re going to buy you some decent clothes. You’re a winner, and no winner should have to walk around in rags like that.”

“No, they shouldn’t. I do need clothes, a set that’s truly my own. But your machine comes first.”

I wasn’t about to tell him that the invention was not entirely my own. To be precise, it wasn’t my own at all. But no one here would begrudge me the violation of intellectual property rights. I was certain the contraption would be a novelty here, in the world of Rock.

Plus, my blueprint