Chapter 4: The System's First Business Plan
The world was gray. It wasn't the absence of color, but the color of Mark's exhaustion. He lay on the cold earth, the adrenaline finally giving way to bone-deep fatigue and the throbbing, agonizing pain in his thigh. He stared at the corpse of the Variant Alpha—a massive, silent testament to his 2.1% miracle.
He pushed himself up, leaning heavily against the oak tree, and retrieved the small leather pouch he had ripped from the Alpha's claw. It held a dark, crystallized piece of bone—the required bounty token.
"Jarvis. Report."
"Host Status: Critical Fatigue, Moderate Blood Loss (Thigh Laceration). Health: 85%. Magical Reserves: Depleted. Skill Cool-down: Basic Stone Skin (9 minutes). Mental State: Elevated Trauma."
"Enough. I need the Silverleaf Salve. How fast can I get back to the Church of the Unified Light?"
"Calculation: 15 minutes at current pace. Priority: Salve Acquisition. Secondary Priority: Wound Stabilization."
Mark ripped a strip of cloth from the lining of his shirt and roughly tied it around his bleeding thigh. It was a poor bandage, but it was enough to stem the worst of the flow. He kept the woodsman's knife in hand, forcing himself to ignore the pain and focus on the immediate task.
The walk back to the village felt longer than the initial run, his head swimming with the metallic scent of blood and the gruesome memory of the fight. The faint sound of a morning rooster crowing was the only sign that time had advanced. The sun was still below the horizon, but a faint, pearly light was creeping into the eastern sky. The six-hour deadline was rapidly approaching.
He reached the village, avoiding the main path and heading straight for the only place open at this blasphemous hour: the Church of the Unified Light.
The Church was a sturdy stone building, cold and somber, smelling of old incense and wax. A lone priest, Brother Elara, a man with thin, precise lips and perpetually tired eyes, sat counting coin in the antechamber.
Brother Elara looked up at the sight of Mark: disheveled, covered in gore, breathing like a dying steam engine, and holding a Goblin-Fox token.
"Mark Noax? By the Light, what happened to you?" the priest exclaimed, rising quickly.
"The Scourge," Mark managed, dropping the token onto the wooden counter with a loud thud. The crystallized bone was shocking against the polished wood. "The Variant Alpha. I need the Silverleaf Salve. Thirty Silver Shillings. This is the bounty."
Brother Elara's eyes widened in disbelief, his thin lips forming a perfect 'O'. He quickly examined the token. "The Alpha? No one believed it was the Alpha. Mark, lad, you... you have saved Oakhaven. May the Unified Light bless your swift action!"
"The salve, Brother. Please. My mother, Elias, has only hours left."
Elara finally snapped into action, rushing to a heavy, iron-bound chest behind the counter. He quickly produced a small, silver tin, perfectly sealed, and placed it on the counter. "Thirty Shillings. It is yours, Mark. Go! The bounty is settled. Your debt is paid."
Mark grabbed the tin, not pausing for thanks or prayer. He ran out of the church and back toward the cottage, ignoring the sudden burst of pain from his thigh.
He found Thomas pacing frantically in the main room.
"Mark! Where have you been? You're hurt! What is that smell?" Thomas rushed forward, his face pale with worry.
"It's over, Father. I got it." Mark handed him the silver tin. "Give it to her now. Jarvis says 15% viability is too low."
Thomas's hands trembled as he took the tin. He looked at Mark's gore-streaked face, then at the precious container, and finally, overwhelmed, he just embraced his son—a fierce, desperate hug. "You did it, son. You saved her. You're a better man than I am."
Mark winced against the emotional honesty and the pressure on his wound, but he allowed the hug. The sincerity was painful, yet utterly necessary.
Within minutes, Elias had been given the salve. Mark watched, leaning against the doorframe, as the lines of pain softened on her face. Her breathing deepened, becoming slower, more regular. The ghastly pallor of her skin warmed slightly.
"Elias Noax Viability: Stabilized at 55%. Prognosis: Full recovery within 72 hours. Primary Objective Complete," Jarvis reported triumphantly in his mind.
Mark felt the crushing weight of the last four years, the meteor, and the Goblin-Fox fight lift from his shoulders. He didn't collapse, but the exhaustion was profound.
Thomas helped him back into the main room, gently cleaning and bandaging the thigh wound with proper herbs and linen, his hands steady now that his wife was safe.
"You rest now, son," Thomas whispered, settling Mark onto the bench by the hearth. "We'll talk later. You are a hero to this family, Mark."
Mark closed his eyes, inhaling the comforting, rustic scent of the cottage.
Hero? I was a self-loathing slug who got lucky. But I didn't fail this time.
The moment of peace was brief. Jarvis, the relentless AI, activated the System Screen in his mind.
[Resource Acquisition Module: Critical Alert]
"Host, while primary viability is secured, the long-term prognosis for the Noax family unit is 2% viability within the next three months, absent immediate action."
Mark sighed, rubbing his temples. "Two percent? What's the problem now? We have no debt, and Mother is safe."
"Resource Depletion: You expended the total family capital (30 SS) on the Salve. You currently possess zero Silver Shillings. The Noax family has no livestock, the winter harvest was poor, and Thomas Noax's woodsman career is seasonal and low-yield. The current economic situation is equivalent to a 'hard reboot' with no starting funds."
"This is where the business genre kicks in, isn't it, Jarvis? The poor-to-rich arc needs a foundation."
"Affirmative. The System is optimizing based on current assets and environment. Current Assets: 1 Woodsman's Axe (Dull), 1 Carving Knife (Bloodstained), 1 Set of Mark Noax's memories (Invaluable), and 1 Variant Alpha Goblin-Fox Corpse (Highly Valued)."
Mark's mind snagged on the last item. "The corpse? Is that worth anything?"
"Analysis: The Variant Alpha possesses a mutation, concentrating ambient Earth elemental energy into its fur, claws, and bone structure. These components are rare and highly sought after by alchemists and mages in Port Elmswood City—the capital. Local sale to a village butcher: 1 SS. Direct sale to an Alchemist in Port Elmswood: Estimated 50–100 Silver Shillings."
Mark sat up, ignoring the twinge in his thigh. Fifty to one hundred Shillings. That was a small fortune. Enough to buy seeds, a breeding pair of livestock, and perhaps even a new axe for Thomas.
"Okay, Jarvis. We're not selling to the village butcher. We're aiming for the city alchemist. But how do we get there? It's a two-day walk, and I'm injured. And how do we transport a massive, stinking corpse?"
"Host, manual transport is suboptimal. The journey to Port Elmswood City requires capital and transport. This necessitates the initiation of the [Business Infrastructure Module]. Current focus: Service Trade."
Mark frowned. "Service trade? Like a blacksmith? I don't know how to do that."
"Negative. The System identifies a highly undervalued resource within Oakhaven that can be monetized with minimal physical labor and maximal cognitive input: Information."
"Information?"
"Affirmative. The villagers are terrified of the Scourge's return. The System can offer a premium service: [Goblin-Fox Nest Prevention and Security Analysis]. Charge: 5 SS per home. Cost: Zero. Required Labor: Minimal patrol and posting of pheromone warnings."
This was genius. It was pure business—exploiting market fear with a highly specialized, low-overhead service only Mark and Jarvis could provide.
"Jarvis, you beautiful, soulless alien, you're a goddamn marketing genius. Let's clean the corpse and start selling security." Mark grinned, a genuine, focused smile for the first time in years.
He looked around the humble, darkened cottage. Thomas was still in the bedroom, quietly watching Elias breathe.
"Alright, we need to move the corpse first. Then we need to sell fear."
"Host, one complication. The Village Elder, Elder Kaelan, is a traditionalist. He will take credit for the victory and will insist any subsequent 'security measures' go through him. He views outsiders, and indeed anyone with too much ambition, with suspicion. He is the first obstacle to your financial viability."
The image of a stern, old man with a long, conservative beard appeared on the mental screen, labeled: [Obstacle 1: Bureaucracy and Traditionalism].
Mark leaned back, a cold, calculating look in his eyes. He wasn't the kind of person who fought monsters, but he definitely knew how to deal with old men standing in the way of progress. That was pure, unadulterated Ethan trash-man experience.
"Jarvis, what's the Elder's weakness? Every novel protagonist knows that old men who hoard power have a dirty secret."
"Analyzing Elder Kaelan's stored memories and behavior patterns… Weakness identified: Elder Kaelan is profoundly devoted to the Unified Light Church's Doctrine and is extremely susceptible to Public Opinion and Shame."
"Perfect. We're not selling him security; we're selling him a reputation. Let's get to work, Jarvis. We start building the Noax Family Fortune by leveraging fear and shame."
[AUTHOR NOTE SAME RULE, 5 POWER STONE = 3 NEW CHAPTER
AND
5 HONEST REVIEW = 3 NEW CHAPTER]
**** everyday 8:30 pm 'evening' new chapter ****