《To Build an Empire - Revised》 Chapter 1 - Reborn Peter Johnson obtained his degree in architecture twenty years ago, and although he wasn¡¯t widely known for his projects, he was a fine architect. As a hobby, he would also read into ancient history and the common literature he could sift through. With blue eyes and brown hair, he was the average joe college professor. He would just bide his time to his lectures and only focus on being a scholar. He often considered himself a scholar, and this was how he liked to set himself apart from the rest of people. More commonly, he thought of the world as a sheeple society, crafted and maintained by the political machine. The political machine was headed by the modern day aristocrats, as he liked to call them. His insecurity led him to be self-absorbed and mislead in society, bickering about how the new generation couldn¡¯t put their phones down if it even meant death. ¡°Bunch of fools¡­¡± Peter would often mutter to himself in his distorted perception of reality. ¡°That will be all for today, you are dismissed.¡± He said. His monotonous voice was clear evidence of his boredom. He sorted the papers at his desk into a neat stack, and then something caught his eye. A sticky-note with red ink plastered across its surface. Peter picked up the note and read it out loud while the last of his class made their way up the stairs and out of the doors. ¡°Professor Johnson, I was hoping I could talk to you later after class about a few questions. Thanks¡­ Elaina.¡± He put the note down, a smile materialized across his face. It was his favorite student Elaina, she had lush blonde hair and plump lips. Her eyes were a steady green, but she wore glasses over them which the professor didn¡¯t like. ¡°Professor, I had a few questions to ask you.¡± Elaina¡¯s voice suddenly came into perspective, her feminine appearance made Peter jovial to answer any question she had. ¡°Ahh, yes! I received your little note. Thank you for waiting until after class. Now what were your questions?¡± Peter immediately became a statue as he turned his petite form to the architecture book he used in class. This was his safe zone, he knew it too. Flipping through the book, he tapped his finger on his tongue and turned the pages to the lesson they had been studying today. ¡°Ohh...actually Professor, I was wondering if you could take another look at my grade in here. I just really need an A.¡± Elaina said. Her voice purred as her lips clasped. She purposefully hung her body low enough to expose her cleavage to tempt the professor. Peter was all hot and bothered by this point, this suffocating air was enough to make him scream. The snake in his pants was squirming and tossing, his virginity crying to be broken. ¡°Y-Yes of course! Of course I¡¯ll take a look Elaina!¡± He said. After taking one glance at her cleavage, he was hard in his pants. Elaina was a manipulator and could get anything she wanted from this dried up professor. He was a sad man. An inconceivable pervert! She smiled internally, getting exactly what she had wanted. Elaina smiled with a softness in her cheeks, ¡°Thank you professor! I¡¯m so grateful--in fact, here¡¯s my lunch since you¡¯ve done this for me.¡± She said, handing him a sandwich in a ziploc bag. It had been perfectly prepared. Peter took the sandwich, his hands shaking a little as he retrieved the packaged goods. ¡°Oh thanks Miss Elaina. I¡¯m happy for the exchange.¡± He was eager to keep her bountiful chest here in his presence as long as possible. The girl was looking uncomfortable now, and it was obvious she was ready to leave. ¡°Okay, thanks again! I¡¯ll see you tomorrow. Byee.¡± She said in her girly voice, and even pumped her fist into the air as the metallic door closed behind her. She had seduced the professor into giving her an A. Elaina didn¡¯t like to admit she was stupid in any capacity. In fact, she often credited her seductive skills as part of her intellect, which was subjective morally and practically. Peter put the sandwich down after watching Elaina¡¯s wide hips shake to and fro, right out of the door. He was a dog, and he acknowledged it. In a depressing sigh, he shifted his chair to his computer and began typing away at it. A few minutes passed and his fingers began to cramp up. ¡°Damn you, old age!¡± He would curse himself. Turning his head in pause, he remembered the sandwich. There was no reason at all to let a perfectly good sandwich go to waste. Taking the sandwich out of the bag was a rather disappointing realization though. The sandwich was quite soggy even though it had the design of something perfectly architectured. No pun intended. The sandwich had lettuce, tomato, and ham. Under the bread he found melted American cheese, pickles, and ranch dressing. Elaina knew this was his favorite type of sandwich! She had prepared this for him, after learning about his sandwich expertise of course. He was baffled by the sheer amount of delicate work put into this sandwich. It was obvious she never intended to eat this herself, this sandwich had been specially prepared for the professor. Peter was livid with excitement, taking his first delectable bite into the beast. He quickly consumed it, and wiped his hands off with a nearby napkin. Peter had been oddly satisfied with today. Usually he hated his life, feeling lonesome and devoid of himself. Today had been different, Elaina had provided him with a shimmer of light. A happiness so perfect and erect. He leaned back in his chair and glanced down at his wrist watch. His arms were curly with black hairs. ¡°Damn! It¡¯s late, I need to get going.¡± He said. He stood up and his heart immediately felt stricken with disease. A strange, but wholesome feeling that seated him back into his chair. He could hear his heartbeat as he began to cough up ludicrous amounts of blood. Hazy vision, extreme nausea, and cold veins. Something wasn¡¯t right here. His esophagus felt like a hole was burning right through it. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Peter struggled to his feet and attempted to scream, but only made incoherent noises as he sprawled out on his desk. His skin pores were on fire as he rolled around on his desk, coughing up blood and struggling to catch his breath. His mind suddenly went black as his body grew cold after nearly ten minutes of struggle. Peter Johnson was pronounced dead on that night, and no one has been identified as a suspect yet. Black. Gray. White. The room was calm. It had a single light source with a throne at its peak. The throne was crafted of bone and strange golden twigs with a single shadow enthroned upon it. ¡°You shall be born again. Do you wish to carry an advantage with you to the next world?¡± It said. The figure¡¯s voice held dominance over Peter¡¯s poor soul. He was confused and distraught, still shocked and oblivious to what had happened to him. Why? He asked himself, although he would be too blind to actually see the truth. He felt rushed by the authority of the figure in front of him. ¡°I-I would like to retain my memories into the next world, and have confidence in myself!¡± The poor Peter would emasculate his shame with a bold request. The man in the throne of bones simply laughed. He put a hand over his face as he bursted into laughter. He couldn¡¯t believe what he was hearing. ¡°Fool. You¡¯re advantages have been granted, but you¡¯ll never surmount to anything. I am the pinnacle of life itself. I determine your fate with the snap of a finger. You humans amuse me most. May you have better luck in the next world, I¡¯ll even spare you this gift.¡± A magical transgressive orb formulated in the being¡¯s hand. ¡°I grant you the power of my system, and that it may garner you strength. With this system you can forge your own path to the top. Meet me at my throne mortal.¡± The being said as lines of ones and zeros shrouded Peter¡¯s vision into a distant fog. White. Gray. Black. Peter¡¯s consciousness faded into nothing, as his soul was transported to the next dimension. A miraculous white orb that drifted through the void of space and into the fiber of time itself. The soul had found its new vessel inside of a newborn baby. That baby had a name, it¡¯s name was Tylor. Tylor Justifix. Right when the consciousness was established, a black system manifolded into existence. Peter could now see the system granted to him by the god. Engraved into his soul, the information displayed the following: SYSTEM --------------- Name: Tylor Justifix Title: The Virgin Boy Race: Human Age: Three hours old Gender: Male ---------------- Stats: Level: 1 Strength: 1 Vitality: 1 Agility: 0 Dexterity: 0 Intelligence: 1 (+37 ) Wisdom: 1 ( + 12 ) Luck: 0 ---------------- His stats were quite unique for an infants. The conscious embodiment of the infant meant that he wouldn¡¯t be strong at all to start. Although, his intelligence and wisdom were carried over by the god who had transported his soul here. He was glad he had been given an advantage in his second life. Although he wasn¡¯t sure where he was. The place was odd and unfamiliar to him. Cradled into a small perpendicular box, he was fairly warm with a glass sheet above him to keep him inside. There were holes for breathing inside the box. A few faces peered into the box and made Peter feel very unnatural at this size. He must have been a newborn at best. The glass slide was removed and the tanned woman grabbed Tylor out of the box. He was eerily quiet and reserved. The baby was refined and a shell of something vastly more intelligent. The woman removed her garment to the side and revealed her breastfeeding tit. She shifted the baby closer to her side so it could suck the milk out and be properly nourished. It didn¡¯t take long before Tylor was sucking on the tit and drinking the milk in abundance. Peter was going absolutely crazy, he hadn¡¯t had this much action since ever! He was in heaven, even though his body didn¡¯t comply with his morbid desires. Title Gained: Tit Suckler - - - - - Tylor could get used to this! It wasn¡¯t long before they set him back in the box and set the glass back into place. Peter was withdrawn from reality, but also disappointed it had to end. He puckered his baby lips and kicked his feet. He was getting quite accommodated to this new body, feeling refreshed from that old-man body. It was like getting a new shell, or a new home in that aspect. Peter was curious to his surroundings and had a desire to see outside of this putrid box, but he didn¡¯t have much of a choice at the moment. He would just have to bide his time and create a game plan. This time his plan didn¡¯t include virginity. Forget that stuff. The surge in his confidence was because of what he had wished for as an advantage in this life. He could understand that much, but why had the god given him this system? What did the god gain from giving him his system? Right now, that didn¡¯t matter. Peter only wanted to see this new world and discover its secrets. He wanted to build some shit! A loud bang erupted in the room, and some dirty looking men hit the woman who had breastfeed Tylor. They would rip off her garments and some rather disgusting noises ensued. They left after about an hour, shutting the door and buckling their belts. The poor lady cried and cried, cradled into a ball on the ground. Peter couldn¡¯t see any of this, but he had a good idea of what had happened. He had a pretty good idea on how Tylor was created. Chapter 2 - Overseer Akira In the city of Slavopolis, a mysterious and eerie feeling touched the hearts of many. The city was for the slaves of the world, and was completely set underground. A city made of junk and sandstone, with interconnecting routes to the mining tunnels that branched out and downward in a spiral formation. The city was lit by magical street lamps. They were objects that retained their light through a permanent form of magical pressure. A few grunts could be heard in the distance. The clatter of wooden sticks vibrated in the distant alleyway. Among the shadows, two boys fervently battled to their wits end. At the end of one wooden stick was Tylor Justifix, a lower level slave in Slavopolis. He was sparring with his childhood friend Hibe. Hibe was naturally weaker than Tylor, his short and stout appearance said that much alone. He had brown hair and brown eyes. In contrast, Tylor had black hair and blue eyes. ¡°Take back what you said!¡± Hibe said in between strikes. They were in their most intense battle yet. The wooden sticks they had carved were bending and shuttering in strange ways. Tylor gritted his teeth, bunkering down against the pain that throttled from the stick and into his aching hands. The spar had been going on for a long time, and if he was going to win, he¡¯d need to end it fast. ¡°I¡¯ll never take it back! Hunky Hibe!¡± Tylor said, schemingly. He smiled, surging all of his strength from his waist into his arms and then the stick. The stick was shooting through the air at an unpredictable speed. ¡°Wh--a!¡± Hibe said, his voice cut off as he planted his feet, struggling to hold the strike back. His face contorted in a hopeless endeavor. ¡°N-No!!!¡± He muttered under his guttery groans of struggle. With a badack, the stick shattered in half, leaving Hibe completely defenseless when the stick squarely hit him in the chest. Tylor used the rest of his strength and even took a step forward to make sure he finished the job. Hibe fell back on his ass and slid a few feet before coughing in pain. Level Up! +1 to all stats Strength +1 Tylor grinned when the notifications popped up in his mind. He was eager to check them, so he activated the menu with his mind alone. He didn¡¯t even have to use some strange voice recognition mechanic to get the window to display. It just was instinctive at this point for him. SYSTEM --------------- Name: Tylor Justifix Title: The Slave Boy Race: Human Age: Seven Years Old Gender: Male ---------------- Stats: Level: 5 Strength: 6 Vitality: 5 Agility: 4 Dexterity: 6 Intelligence: 4 (+37 ) Wisdom: 4 ( + 12 ) Luck: 4 ---------------- It was a start nonetheless. He closed the window and set his hand out for Hibe who was now recovered slightly from the crazy battle in the alleyway. ¡°Are you okay?¡± Tylor asked him. Hibe nodded, taking his hand and lifting himself before wiping the sweat from his brow. The man was a valiant warrior for his age. A booming sound rattled the ears of the boys as they realized what time it was. ¡°Shit! We¡¯re going to get caught out here!¡± Hibe said. He turned the corner fast and went down the main street. Tylor followed after him and caught up easily. The boys had once again cut it close against the midnight curfew. Any man wandering the streets of Slavopolis at this time was considered an illegal identity, and would face the consequences. A few guards dressed in black uniform were patrolling the streets. They carried double black batons, one end spiked, the other blunt. Their armor was a painted leather and they wore dark helmets that obscured their identity. Slave Guards had no identity, and were simply forced to enter the profession due to political reasons. Of course seven year old Tylor and Hibe couldn¡¯t care less about such matters. They scurried toward the hideout they had created over the years. An underground basement dug out under a workshop. Going down the alleyway, and running to the back of the workshop lead to a wooden hatch with a string handle. Two guards caught a glimpse of the boys and began running down the alley with batons in hand. ¡°Hey! Get over here!¡± This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. ¡°Shit! What¡¯s taking so long Hibe?¡± Tylor shouted. He held his fists in the air as Hibe frantically pulled on the jammed hatch. ¡°I-It¡¯s jammed!¡± He said with hesitation in his voice before he returned to his plucking. Tylor had maybe a few seconds before they were punished. It didn¡¯t matter that they were kids. Rules were rules. The trap door hinge busted and sent Hibe flying. ¡°A-aAHh!¡± He stammered as he tripped backwards, falling into Tylor. Tylor was thrown off guard by this development, as he was shifted forwards into the guards who were relentless in their motive to attack. ¡°You damn kids are about to get drafted for work!¡± The guard said. He threw his baton with the blunt end out, and slammed it into Tylor¡¯s head, sending the poor five year old in an epitome of darkness. Hibe would reluctantly follow the same destiny. Being knocked out hadn¡¯t been on Peter¡¯s bucket list of things to do in his new life. He was satisfied with the training he had done with his new friend Hibe, and he was getting quite comfortable with the identity of Tylor rather than Peter. Eventually he might just become Tylor in all seriousness. A new start begins with a new identity * * * * * * In a cold sweat, Tylor awakens in a hot room. The room is cloggy with dim light and dust. The room was saturated with permeated sweat and moisture along the walls and floor. Water was dripping from the ceiling. There were several cotton cottages laying around on the floor, with several men in them sleeping hard as a rock. Tylor had examined his hands before realizing he had a massive bandage wrapped around his head. Where was he? The room was plastered with a green carpet and the walls were made of a strange material that wasn¡¯t recognizable to Tylor. Not that it was significant. Hibe was laying right next to Tylor, still asleep from being knocked out cold. His head was also wrapped. It must have been a precautionary measure of safety then? They were too young to understand the situation they were in, but Tylor still observed quietly. ¡°Where is this?..¡± Tylor had discovered one useful feature to the system granted to him by god. The skills menu was probably the most inventive and helpful tool to his expenditure. For his first skill that he unlocked at level three, he decided to go with the safe plan. Skills: Observe - Observe anything and obtain clues or information about that said thing. It was a great necessity, an observe skill allowed him to perceive things that normally aren¡¯t so easy to grasp. With this, he had a significant advantage over his fellow peers. As Tylor¡¯s mother had told him before her recent passing, ¡°The more you know, the better the chances.¡± Which alluded to success and decision-making. Her passing was unfortunate, but the only doctor in that region of Slavopolis diagnosed her death from stress-related incidents. Peter was indifferent to Tylor¡¯s mother, but part of his human nature still made him cry when the moments called for it. ¡°Observe.¡± Tylor muttered under his breath, scanning the room and looking over Hibe¡¯s body. A few notifications immediately displayed themselves. Hibe - Moderate injury sustained, will awake momentarily. Room - a basic carpeted room that houses slave laborers. Stain - This stain has unknown origins. It was likely that Hibe would awake in a few minutes if the skill were accurate to its name and usage. The room was far more interesting to Tylor, he nodded purposefully as he began to understand the situation. A room for slave laborers meant they had been captured and forced to work at the lowest station of Slavopolis. This meant they had been demoted from street urchins to crappy laborers with zero pay. This would just not do. Hibe began to wake up. ¡°Ohwh, Guahhwa¡­¡± He held his head as he rolled a little bit. It was obvious his head was hurting from the strike. Tylor began to wonder if his symptoms were nullified by his special system. Peter had also sensed an increase in confidence since his arrival into this body. It had been a few years already, but he still was incredibly off put by the size of the small framed body. Hibe got up, his brown eyes fluttering open as he immediately caught sight of Tylor in a sitting position. ¡°W-Where are we?¡± His heartbeat sped up. He crawled around in a few circles, trying to grasp what was actually going on. Tylor smiled a little bit. He was confident he could give a reliable answer in a broad terminology. ¡°I think we¡¯ve been demoted to slave laborers. This is most likely the living quarters for the slaves. We¡¯ll be mining for the rest of our lives at this rate.¡± He said. Hibe was incredibly distraught over this factual information. He whispered a scream to Tylor. ¡°We have to get out of here! I-It¡¯s badd!¡± He tried to emphasize the severity of the situation even more. ¡°I know.¡± Tylor said. He put his hand under his chin, propping his elbow against his leg as he remained in a state of deep thought and pondering. There were many decisions to be made, but without the body of an adult, he could only wait for the right moment--and Peter was a patient man after all. The slam of a door revealed two Slave Guards and a fat man with a chicken leg in his right hand. His face was covered with grease, exemplifying his black hair and black eyes. His hair was slicked back like he was some kind of Elvis Presley copycat. The man wore an oversized black and white coat that wrapped around him tightly. His gut was protruding out from his body and hanging low over his waistline. He looked toward the two boys and took a meaty bite out of his chicken leg before slurping the meat down his throat. ¡°Well, if we ain¡¯t got two new bitches in this block. Welcome to E-Block you shitty brats! Ga-Haha-Ga-Haha!¡± His ugly mannerisms made him even more despicable. The fat man walked over closer to the two boys before spitting out a chicken bone in Hibe¡¯s face. ¡°I¡¯m the Overseer around here. You listen to me, got it boys? I¡¯m Overseer Akira. Remember that name well you shitty-fucks! Ga-Haha-Ga-Haha!¡± He partially wheezed as he turned around. The fat lards running across his waistline to his ass as he walked down and out of the room. The guards shut the door behind him and left the room after a short glance. Tylor and Hibe were left speechless. How were they even supposed to respond to this Overseer Akira? It was indisputable evidence that he was a total shithead, but they could do nothing about it in their tender age. Even with Tylor¡¯s life advantages, he couldn¡¯t beat a grown man at his age. His body was simply too weak in every capacity. ¡°Hibe, I think we should just lay low for now. Things may not be looking well, but I don¡¯t think we should rush head in on this.¡± Tylor said. Hibe nodded in agreement as he tucked himself in his cotton bed on the hard floor. ¡°You¡¯re right. That man is scary!¡± He said with his cheeks puffed out. The boy still very much a boy. Hibe couldn¡¯t quite put his finger on it, but Tylor had always been more mature and insightful than anyone his age could ever have been. Tylor could read and write at unremarkable speeds compared to anyone else, and even the Noblemen took notice of it. At the end of the day though, none of it would surmount to anything. Hibe thought of Tylor as special. Tylor was meant for greatness. He could see it in his eyes. Chapter 3 - The Philanthropist ¡°Tylor, pass me that pick.¡± A muscular thirty year old man said. Tylor guided his head toward where the man had been pointing, spotting the tool. He grabbed the pickaxe and gave it to him without much thought. ¡°Here ya go.¡± He said. The man nodded in a grateful posture before walking out into the mines. Tylor and Hibe followed him out as they were intently watched by the guards. Hibe¡¯s arms were a bit more muscular than before and he had slimmed up some. His brown hair was covered in grime and his face similarly. Tylor began working thoughtlessly, hammering his pick into the rock. The spiral staircase down was rigid for the men. It was dangerous, so the kids would labor at the top of the facility. ¡°Hibe, I want to get out of here fast. Let¡¯s just freaking leave!¡± Tylor said in a frustrated tone. His frustration had overcome his patience. It had been too long! Too damn long. When was that oversee going to kick the bucket anyways? He was the bane of Tylor¡¯s existence. Tylor brought his menu up. SYSTEM --------------- Name: Tylor Justifix Title: The Slave Laborer Race: Human Age: Nine Years Old Gender: Male ---------------- Stats: Level: 8 Strength: 12 Vitality: 10 Agility: 7 Dexterity: 8 Intelligence: 7 (+37 ) Wisdom: 7 ( + 12 ) Luck: 7 ---------------- His stats weren¡¯t that bad-- at least he thought. Peter hadn¡¯t played that many games back on earth but he was starting to grasp what was considered good. He was happy that he had also obtained a new skill. The skill allowed him to get extra rations when he was running low. Therefore Tylor could feed Hibe too. The skill was beneficial. ¡°Energy-Surge!¡± Tylor shouted. Everyone immediately turned their heads to watch the boy, as it was common knowledge by now that those words meant he was about to go on a rampage against the rock. Hibe stopped, and so did the other kids beating away at the rock. It was almost a form of entertainment, and it even caught the attention of the overseer sometimes. Today was one of those days. Skill Activated: Energy-Surge! 30 Second duration. A burst of jovial energy sprouted from nowhere as Tylor shattered into the rock, in rapid-fire succession. He chipped away at the rock like a grinder before sending a deadly critical hit into the rock. The hit resulted in a large crack in the rock which segmented off from the rest of the stuff. It came tumbling down and smacked against the floor. Tylor tried to catch his breath, sitting down on the rock. The skill was definitely an additive to his current strength, and could be used in various ways. The overseer would give the boy a break when he accomplished this occasionally. His efforts were as fast as the adults working in the lower levels of E-Block. It wouldn¡¯t be long before his greed surmounted and he made the poor boy work again though. Tylor wasn¡¯t doing it to help anybody but Hibe and himself though. This rock mining gave the bare minimum amount of experience, but provided experience nonetheless. A blaring siren spiraled out of control, signalling the end of today¡¯s work. Everyone came crashing down on the rock as the relentless work had seized their bone¡¯s for another day. The end of work also meant the arise of dinner time. The slaves started to head back to their quarters, clinging to the rock as they sighed. A son waited for his father to come up the spiral staircase. The father looked malnourished and pale. He grabbed his son as he hastily made his way up to the slave quarters. He would give his meal portions to his son so he wouldn¡¯t starve. The men all gathered around the metal window that was in the slave quarters. This is where they distributed an artificial paycheck to the slaves. Usually a single copper coin was the payment for work. That single copper coin was enough for a pack of crackers. Tylor had an advantage though, he would usually be given two coins for his work with his new skill. Hibe was next in line to receive his daily pay. He held his hand out to the man behind the counter. ¡°Thank you.¡± He said in advance as it had become a habit. The man gave him a single copper coin. Joy washed over the boy¡¯s face as he had saved up some coins for food. The boy and the father went together. The boy was given a single copper coin. The father praised him for his good work with a weak smile as he brushed his hair. ¡°Good job Lincoln. I¡¯m so proud of you!¡± The father held his hands out for his pay, but to his surprise he only received a single copper coin. The work he did should pay out for at least five, but Overseer Akira liked to watch him suffer with his son. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. The overseer watched from above. His quarters was directly above the slave quarters, as he could see through the one-sided magic floor. Watching the slaves¡¯ every move. As the father took his pay in despair, Tylor swore he could hear a familiar, ¡°Ga-Haha, Ga-Haha!¡± Tylor was next in line to receive his pay. The man grabbed from the stash of coins and dropped three copper coins into the boy¡¯s hand. ¡°Thank you.¡± Tylor said in a dignified voice. The boys marvelled at this display. No boy had ever been payed three copper coins for a single work day, and Tylor had just made E-Block history. He graciously took the money and went over to the convenient store. The convenient store was at the opposite end of the pay out door. It was a place where the slaves could spend their pay for food, items, and even freedom. All of the coins would go straight to the overseer, making him richer by the day. There was a choice between crackers, corn, meat, and a full chicken. The price of some crackers was one copper coin, while a corn cob was two. Meat was three and the full chicken was five. Normally the slaves would give their pay to one man to buy a full chicken with, as it was the only way to get proper nourishment. The kids would do the same thing but usually buy meat or something cheaper with it. The older men had taught them well. Hibe and Tylor caught onto this trend fast. Tylor had been planting seeds in the slave department though. Today was no different. He walked over to the malnourished father and his son Lincoln. They eyed him as he approached. He set three copper coins down for the father. ¡°Take this. I wouldn¡¯t want to see you suffer anymore as it is.¡± Tylor said. Hibe was standing behind him with his arms crossed. He understood the plan. They had been carefully devising it for two years now. ¡°I-I can¡¯t take this son. You¡¯ve earned this money. Buy you some meat. We are fine how we are now.¡± He shut his eyes in frustration. The overseer wanted to see him suffer, and the father was strong-willed. He had reached his limit though. He needed to eat, and Lincoln knew it too. ¡°Dad. Please!¡± His eyes filled with tears as he tugged on his stained garments. ¡°I¡¯m begging you to take it dad!¡± He said. The father gritted his teeth. ¡°I-I-I c-can¡¯t.¡± He muttered in pure agony. He was too kind-hearted to take this from Tylor. Tylor was only nine in appearance, so this was a difficult hurdle to overcome. Tylor had expected this though, and almost smiled before clinching his shirt. ¡°Good sir, I kindly wish for you to take these coins. No one here wants to see you suffer at the hands of the overseer. Especially not your son. I have plenty of money.¡± Tylor said boldly. Hibe grabbed out the bags from underneath their cotton beddings as proof of Tylor¡¯s claim. He handed the bags over to Tylor. ¡°See? I have more than a hundred copper coins saved up.¡± Tylor jangled the bags around and caught the attention of everyone in the room. Even the overseer came bursting through the door. ¡°Tyler!¡± The overseer said in his annoyed tone. ¡°Have you gone mad! You¡¯ve stolen from me have you?!¡± He snarled. Tylor shook his head. ¡°I didn¡¯t steal from you. Oh kind Overseer Akira! I humbly support you every day! This money is what I have saved in the past two years! Eating meager crackers and corn has given me a spare coin to save every day! I ask that I could spend these now at your convenience store?¡± Tylor began his monologue in a humble tone, but ended it with a persuasive one. He knew he had caught the fish by the hook with this one. If Tylor spent the money at the convenience store, the money would go straight to the overseer, but if the overseer forcefully retracted the money, he would possibly incite riots and rebellion among the ranks. He stammered before recovering from this blow to his reputation. Tylor had garnered the power in this situation by putting on a display. ¡°Why of course you can mah¡¯ boy!¡± He said in a jolly tone. He crossed his arms as he watched Tylor. What kind of boy could use a grown man¡¯s play toy against him in such a fashion? He knew that the overseer had been harassing Lincoln¡¯s father by malnourishing him with wrongful pay, and used it to steer the overseer into the room. Then used the power of his meager savings to force the overseers hand? This was no boy. This was a monster. A monster that the overseer had to stop. Intelligence +1 Tylor got a notification in his mind. His intelligence had went up a point. He decided to take a look at his stats again just to get an updated picture of his progress. The progress had been mindboggingly slow. Two years for a few levels, but that¡¯s the price to be paid as a slave. SYSTEM --------------- Name: Tylor Justifix Title: The Slave Laborer Race: Human Age: Nine Years Old Gender: Male ---------------- Stats: Level: 8 Strength: 12 Vitality: 10 Agility: 7 Dexterity: 8 Intelligence: 8 (+37 ) Wisdom: 7 ( + 12 ) Luck: 7 ---------------- Not bad. He sat the two big bags of coins on the counter and looked at his choices. Everyone eyed him as he quietly sat there, pondering his options. He had thought about buying a quality pickaxe to gain more pay, but that wouldn¡¯t be beneficial. It would cost fifty coins, and was the cheapest quality item. There was a brown book that had ¡°Magical Apprentice¡± plastered on its cover. It was a hundred coins, and the last quality purchase was freedom at a staggering five hundred coins. He knew this wasn¡¯t an option because he couldn¡¯t leave Hibe alone. His hand was forced, so he took the magical book and dumped out a hundred coins onto the counter, reserving the rest for himself. ¡°Thank you for doing business.¡± He said with a jarring smile plastered across his face. The overseer was evidently infuriated. He ordered the guard to round up the coins for him as he slammed the door. His heavy footsteps were heard as he climbed the rusty staircase to his quarters. Everyone sighed in relief. Tylor sat against the wall and opened the book. It was a magical guide for beginners. ¡°This book is written to teach newcomers the basic laws of magic and its natural course of circulation. By the end of this book you should be able to cast magic to some extent.¡± The book synopsis said. Tylor was satisfied with this purchase, it would be the biggest aide to him in the future as he read intently. Chapter 4 - Erase In the dark crevices of slavopolis¡­ a teen boy finds himself at the forefront of a new day. Tylor Justifix, the hope of the slaves and the strong willed warrior from another world. His pick smashed against the rock. Bang. A white magic travelled along the handle of the pickaxe and to the tip of the blade. The magic shot out into spurts between the cracks of the rock, expanding like an explosion. It didn¡¯t take long for the rock to crumble against the iron will of Tylor¡¯s mind. ¡°Energy Surge!¡± Tylor shouted, and as usual everyone turned their eyes to him. The rock washed away like butter against Tylor¡¯s strange abilities. It was a power befitted of the gods themselves. His growth had been substantial in three years. Hibe could only watch his friend leave him in a cloud of dust...literally. Hibe sliced the rock with his pick, his muscles clearly defined after hard discipline and constant work. ¡°Haha! Calm down Tylor! You¡¯ll get the overseer down here like that!¡± Hibe said. ¡°Yarrrrghhhhh!¡± He screamed, howling in a ferocious display and putting every ounce of his being into the hammering of the tool. The pickaxe head flew off from the abuse, but Tylor didn¡¯t stop. He started slamming his fists against the rock wall, infused with the white mana and his surging energy. The rock splattered into dust as the rock came crashing down in a rumbling earthquake. The first floor had finally been completed after this showcase. It was obvious with Tylor¡¯s contribution, the entire E-Block had taken leaps and bounds ahead of the other blocks. To the point that the overseer was having trouble finding work for the youngsters. The overseer had watched this display from his quarters. He had been reading a book before the commotion. Sinking his teeth into the soft manifolds of the chicken, he looked down upon Tylor with deep contempt in his heart. It was simply too much for him to understand. Where this energy surge came from, and how Tylor had grasped magic at such a young age. Overseer Akira was almost jealous at this development, because Tylor¡¯s understanding of magic qualified him for overseer in multiple blocks. Another fact that only the overseer was aware of was Tylor¡¯s notoriety in Slavopolis. Multiple noblemen have been speaking of Tylor as the next A-Block overseer. Akira simply couldn¡¯t let his own slave surpass him. He would break him and send him to the depths of hell if it had to be done! ¡°Call up Rob, I have an order for him.¡± Akira said. The guard nodded under his black leather armor. He swiftly descended the stairs and brought Rob back up to Akira¡¯s side. Rob was the head guard in E-Block, he was the senior guard who had been working here for more than twenty years, and Akira trusted him more than anyone else. ¡°You called for me sire?¡± He asked, kneeling. Even a slave nobility ran rampant underground. This was no different from playing politics in a real court. ¡°Yes. Rob, I require that this scum be dealt with. I¡¯m sure you know what I mean by that?¡± Akira said. Rob nodded, his black armor with his senior patch jangled as he adjusted himself to his feet. ¡°Yes sire, I completely understand your intentions. I will adhere to it at once and make myself useful for thou.¡± He dismissed himself while the fuming Akira swallowed another clump of meat from the bone. He swallowed it whole, his meaty body desired entertainment on this day. A burst of excitement came from the first floor slaves as Tylor had cleared another hurdle in their journey. Tylor smiled, his resume grew larger by the day and his magic had finally started to manifest after three hard years. The results were absolutely livid. He opened his status screen in his mind to check his stats. SYSTEM --------------- Name: Tylor Justifix Title: The Slave Star Race: Human Age: Twelve Years Old Gender: Male ---------------- Stats: Level: 13 Strength: 19 Vitality: 17 Agility: 12 Dexterity: 13 Intelligence: 14 (+37 ) Wisdom: 12 ( + 12 ) Luck: 13 ---------------- Not bad. The stats were coming together nicely. Tylor hadn¡¯t even told Hibe about the system, and he had no intentions on telling anyone about it either. Hibe came over with his short and stout self and began working while talking to Tylor. ¡°You¡¯ve truly become strong. That magic book was a great choice for you. I can¡¯t believe it¡¯s already been five years.¡± He entered a trance of his thoughts. ¡°I know. It¡¯s crazy.¡± Tylor brushed off the conversation piece and began working at a miserly pace. He felt offset about something, but he couldn¡¯t quite identify the thing that was bugging him. It wasn¡¯t some divine intervention--or so he thought. Tylor collapsed to the ground and his soul was forcefully retracted back to the clouds of space, beyond the endless nebulas, and into the sanctified room. Black. Gray. White. Red. Soon a cloud of digital fog was presented in front of Tylor. Well-- he was Peter now once again. God had risen from his throne and was walking around the room. His black silhouette remained ever present no matter what direction he took. The room was dark red, and resembled that of an angry man. Peter felt his spineless soul crawl with fear. Intimidated and withdrawn, his bright white orb sifted a few steps back. ¡°Have you forgotten? Peter Johnson, the ugly virgin soul. Have you forgotten?¡± His voice beamed into Peter¡¯s mind, overwhelming him with his divine presence. Peter had no idea what he was talking about. What was this crazy god even going on about?! ¡°What are you even saying?!¡± The room violently shook. ¡°Greater Fracture.¡± Peter¡¯s mind began to shatter into shambles, like the most painful migraine imaginable, he only hoped he could hold his head.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°W-What the...fuCK?!¡± Peter¡¯s consciousness was fading in and out. He was suffering for unknown reasons. The reason was this god! For sure. ¡°You¡¯ve forgotten to meet me here. Five years in the pits of hell doesn¡¯t amount to much. For this I will punish you. Your time is not infinite Peter. Do not think you can go at your own leisurely pace.¡± He held his hand out and a strong magic emanated into his hands. It was iridescent in color as his powerful figure spoke dividends of confidence. ¡°ReeSTART!¡± A spear formulated into his hand as he jolted it through the air and struck Peter¡¯s soul deeply. WARNING SYSTEM OVERRIDE - SYSTEM COLLAPSE IMMINENT SYSTEM --------------- Name: Tylor Justifix Title: The Slave Star Race: Human Age: Twelve Years Old Gender: Male ---------------- Stats: Level: 0 Strength: 0 Vitality: 0 Agility: 0 Dexterity: 0 Intelligence: 0 (+37 ) Wisdom: 0 ( + 12 ) Luck: 0 ---------------- SKILLS ERASED. RESET COMPLETE!!! The spear shot right through Peter in an instant, converging him into a single entity. He was one with the system now. A completely altered soul created by god. ¡°Now remember this child. You have five years to escape Slavopolis. If you can¡¯t manage that, it will surely be your death. I will crush your soul to oblivion. Now begone!¡± The ushering mannerism of his hand shot Peter¡¯s soul back out into the nebula void. Red. White. Gray. Black. Then Hibe¡¯s voice boomed throughout Tylor¡¯s ears, muttering words of tears as wetness plastered the supposed dead boy¡¯s face. His eyes fluttered open and the men in the caves suddenly were washed with joy. Even some guards under the overseer¡¯s command looked all too relieved for the occasion. Tylor was more than upset. He had been washed clean. This god clearly wasn¡¯t too forgiving of how much time he was spending down in this cave. It was clear this was a race more than anything else. Two guards along with Rob bursted through the crowd in a hurry. They pushed slaves over and quickly grabbed Tylor up by his four limbs. ¡°Get his other leg.¡± Rob ordered a distant guard on duty. He quickly shifted and ran to grab Tylor¡¯s leg. Tylor struggled and kicked, but it was all futile to resist. He was simply a twelve year old boy with a little magic now. The god had erased all of his strength into oblivion. It was clear god didn¡¯t want to let him steamroll the competition. ¡°Let me fucking go!¡± Tylor screamed and kicked. Hibe fought the guards by punching one in the face to get him off Tylor, inciting a riot where everyone started fighting the guards with yelling and screaming. ¡°Stop you shitty QUAGS!¡± The overseer yelled, his bright blue war-axe resonated with a magical aura. Calling the slaves Quags was a derogatory term for the lowest man of society. It was a demoralizing term to distinguish trash from absolute trash. The room immediately stopped. The eruption of riot was plugged in an instant by the overseer¡¯s intimidating presence in the room. His eyes glowed a blue color of magic, and it was obvious the overseer had no intention of giving up E-Block to a simple slave after all. ¡°Tylor...Tylor¡­.Tylor.¡± He said in an eerie voice. ¡°I¡¯ve finally had it with you, you shitty quag. It¡¯s time you experience a true hell for your misdemeanors. Your crimes must be punished. Find refuge in solitude you bastard! Ga-Haha! Ga-Haha!¡± He said. Akira began stomping his foot into the twelve year old boy¡¯s chest over and over again, repeatedly ushering his three hundred pounds onto him in furious anger. ¡°Quag! Quag! Quag!¡± He would say in sync with each step against his chest. Tylor began coughing up spit, and then it soon turned an ugly red from constant abuse. ¡°Bring me the iron!¡± Akira greedily commanded. A guard shortly arrived with a blisteringly hot iron which had an orange-yellow tint to its frame. It had a handle from which to hold, as the overseer ripped Tylor¡¯s garments down. ¡°A quag must forever be branded for his crimes Tylor! Ga-Haha!¡± The iron made contact with Tylor¡¯s chest as the guards held him down on his knees. ¡°AGHhhHHGH!!!¡± He yelled in a fruitless endeavor. The iron seeping deep into his skin, leaving a red A, in the middle of his chest. Tears streamed from Tylor¡¯s eyes as he struggled free from the guards but immediately passed out from the pain. Hibe couldn¡¯t bear to watch anymore, and threw his fist at Akira, sending ripples through his fat cheeks as his head was forced to turn from the punch. ¡°You bastard!¡± Hibe said. Hibe was crying, his shortness made him far less intimidating to the overseer, but Akira was still pissed off nonetheless. ¡°So you wish to join him in hell huh? So be it!¡± The guards held Hibe down, as the hot iron branded his forehead with a red A. It sizzled against his skin as he began to hyperventilate. ¡°Shit! SHITT¡­FUCKKKK!¡± He strained his vocal cords and lost consciousness as well soon after. * * * * * * * * * * * * A beaming light shuttered into existence, as Tylor fluttered his eyes open, his head pounding. His chest still felt like it was on fire. Hibe was beside him still completely lights out, this was similar to what had happened when they had been caught. Tylor looked down at the A in his chest, it seemed to be a brand representing that he was now property of Overseer Akira. How dreadful. They were hanging in a metal cage, hanging from the ceiling in a strange fashion. Below them was a mosh pit of bones and rusted armor. A sudden bong inflamed the arena into a brawl as men dropped from cages and began to fight to their death. ¡°Ahh¡­ Tylor¡­.Hibe. Welcome, to my mosh pit from hell!¡± Overseer Akira suddenly appeared from a balcony. ¡°Here you can find the opportunity for glory and success, or death and a bloody mess. Let the show begin, and may luck be in your favor. The nobles of slavopolis are watching after all...best not to disappoint them.¡± Akira said in a tone of evil spirit. The noblemen laughed and smiled with an eager look on their faces. It was a literal battle arena. From the looks of things it was an illegal ring that focused on betting on Quags. ¡°Fuck.¡±