The sheer scale of The Sprawl’s renovation meant that the initial phase was entirely bottlenecked by one thing: resources.
Without raw materials, the grand plan to upgrade a thousand Defense Towers was nothing more than ink on a blueprint. Jax spent the next few days locked in his office, obsessing over the logistics.
He wasn't worried about the mundane building materials—the steel, concrete, timber, or reinforced stone. The Iron Mountain mine and the salvaged ruins could provide enough of those. His sole focus was the core conversion arrays. The core was the beating heart of a Defense Tower; the rest of the structure was just a shell to protect it.
Manufacturing a thousand advanced conversion cores was going to be a monumental headache. The arrays required highly specialized, rare-earth components that couldn't simply be scavenged from the wasteland.
Across the city, Sawyer was feeling the pressure of his new position. He had barely slept the night before, and when he finally dragged himself out of bed, his face was slick with exhaustion.
He was a changed man. In the past, Sawyer was notoriously vain. He wouldn't be caught dead outside his quarters without a pressed suit and spit-shined leather shoes; stepping out unkempt made him feel practically naked.
Now, he couldn't care less. Sometimes he walked the command center halls in a t-shirt and slippers. He was satisfied with this new, grittier version of himself. His old polished aesthetic felt too detached from the bloody reality of the wasteland.
But today was a big day. He needed to look the part of an expedition leader.
Sawyer washed his face in the sink and ran a comb through his overgrown hair, slicking it back to keep it out of his eyes. Staring at the rugged, sharp-eyed man in the mirror, he gave a firm nod.
"Alright. It's getting late. We need to move out."
Sawyer slapped his cheeks to wake himself up, grabbed his gear, and headed out the door.
Jax, meanwhile, was currently being dragged out of bed against his will by Elena.
"This is utter bullshit," Jax groaned, burying his face in his pillow. "What is the point of being a corrupt, all-powerful City Lord if I don't even have the right to sleep in? I thought absolute power meant absolute laziness!"
"Oh, shut up and get up!" Elena scolded, yanking the blankets off him. "Who told you City Lords get to hibernate? Everyone is waiting for you at the East Gate! Are you really going to make the entire expeditionary force stand around while you beauty sleep?"
Jax let out a long, defeated sigh and rolled out of the plush mattress.
He shuffled into the en-suite bathroom, where Elena had already laid out his toothbrush, complete with toothpaste. The moment he rinsed his mouth, she shoved a hot towel into his hands.
"Wash your face and wake up!" she ordered, her hands on her hips. "I've got breakfast waiting. Eat fast and let's go."
Jax scrubbed his face and walked out to the dining table. He stopped dead in his tracks.
The table was covered with no less than fourteen plates of exquisite, delicate pastries, steaming dim sum, and precisely cut fruits.
"Whoa, hold on," Jax said, rubbing his eyes. "Isn't this a bit much? It looks like a royal banquet. I’m just eating breakfast, not hosting a foreign dignitary."
Elena puffed out her chest, fully embracing her self-appointed role as his chief of staff. "Of course it is! You are the City Lord now. Your daily meals and standard of living must reflect the dignity of the office!"
"I can't eat fourteen pastries for breakfast! It's a waste!"
"I don't know what to tell you," Elena shrugged, picking up a clipboard. "The administrative staff has already drafted your daily culinary schedule. You need to fill this out in the car."
Jax grabbed a piece of whole-wheat toast and took the clipboard. He stared at the densely packed spreadsheet. It could be summarized in one word: insane.
It was a highly customized, hyper-detailed catering matrix for his daily meals, including morning tea, lunch, afternoon snacks, dinner, and midnight cravings. It asked him to specify the exact temperature of his morning milk, the origin of his coffee beans, whether he required aperitifs before lunch, and his preference for post-dinner palate cleansers.
Jax's head spun. Even before he transmigrated, he was just a regular guy. He had never experienced this level of suffocating luxury. This wasn't just wealthy; this was decadent emperor territory.
"Yeah, no," Jax said flatly. "Tell the kitchen staff to scrap this. From now on: a bowl of porridge, some steamed buns, and maybe some pickled vegetables for breakfast. Keep lunch and dinner simple but hearty. I don't need—or want—this kind of extravagance."
"Are you sure?" Elena asked, looking slightly disappointed. "It wouldn't hurt to learn how to live a little nicer."
"I am trying to rebuild a ruined city and prevent us all from starving to death," Jax sighed, tossing the clipboard onto the table. "I don't have the brain space to pick out vintage wines or dessert pairings. Besides, I have terrible decision paralysis. This menu would literally kill me. Just tell them to make food that doesn't taste like garbage, and I'll be happy."
A few minutes later, Jax stepped out of the estate. A sleek, armored luxury transport was waiting. A uniformed butler bowed deeply, opening the door and shielding the frame with his hand so Jax wouldn't bump his head.
Jax grimaced, feeling incredibly awkward. He was a small-town guy. Even the corporate executives in his old world didn't get this kind of sycophantic treatment. And the terrifying part was, this wasn't a one-day VIP experience; this was his life for the foreseeable future.
The transport glided smoothly down the cleared main avenues. Looking out the tinted windows, Jax saw massive red "Demolish" characters painted across entire blocks of ruined buildings. Unlike his old world, there were no eminent domain payouts here. The slum residents had been uniformly relocated to temporary housing, and the old, decrepit districts were being leveled to make way for the new grid.
The convoy soon arrived at the East Gate.
Dozens of officials and guild leaders were lined up in two perfectly straight rows, standing at strict attention. As Jax stepped out of the transport, the officials erupted into rehearsed applause.
"Welcome, City Lord!" they chanted in unison.
"Ahem. Right. At ease, everyone," Jax said, waving them off. "Is the expedition ready?"
Sawyer stepped forward from the front of the line, looking sharp and focused. "We're packed and ready to roll. Just waiting on your final order."
"Good," Jax nodded, his expression turning serious. "Keep your eyes open out there. Your route to Iron Mountain takes you dangerously close to The Forgotten City. I don't care how much time it adds to the trip—take the long way around. Do not go near that place. It's not worth the risk."
"Understood, City Lord. We'll give it a wide berth."
"Alright. Get moving. You're burning daylight."
Sawyer saluted, then turned to the massive, armored convoy waiting beyond the gates. "Mount up! We roll out in two!"
The expeditionary force scrambled into the heavy transports. It was a massive undertaking. In addition to Sawyer and a heavily armed escort of elite Awakened, the convoy carried over a hundred geological surveyors and mining engineers.
Jax had dispatched them with a very specific, highly classified priority list. While they needed standard building materials, their true objective was to locate veins of Refined Iron, Stardust Stone, and Energy Shards. These rare materials were the missing ingredients required to mass-produce the advanced cores for his Defense Tower upgrades. He already controlled the local iron mine, but he needed a diversified supply chain if he was going to pull off this industrial miracle.
With a low rumble of heavy diesel engines, the armored convoy rolled out of the East Gate, kicking up a massive cloud of dust as it headed into the wasteland.
Jax stood at the gate with the city officials, watching the transports shrink into dots on the horizon.
"I hope Sawyer finds that mountain quickly," one official muttered. "Everything hinges on those rare ores."
"If we can upgrade the grid, we'll finally have the combat rating to apply for official Federation sovereignty at Northport," another added, his eyes shining with hope. "Then we can bypass the embargo and buy real food."
"It's a week's drive just to reach the Iron Mountain sector," an older guild leader sighed. "It'll be a month before we see them again."
Jax listened to their murmurs, feeling the crushing weight of their expectations settling onto his shoulders. He had never asked to be a savior or a king. But the die was cast, and he was the only one who could build the board.
"Alright, show's over," Jax said, turning back toward the city. "Get back to work. We have a city to build."
Jax also let out a slight sigh of relief. Becoming the City Lord was never his dream. But by chance, fate had given him this opportunity. Jax felt everything had come so suddenly, yet so naturally.
"Alright, everyone, go back. We'll just have to wait and see what happens next."
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