100X Returns: Starting with 1,000,000 System Points

Chapter 29: Chapter 29: Settling In

Two weeks in Tula settled into a rhythm I hadn’t expected to find so quickly — quest board pickups in the morning, careful, deliberately modest work through the afternoon, evenings spent mapping the city’s districts with Sharp Soul Perception until I understood its rhythms nearly as well as I’d once understood Brightwood’s.

I took on a steady stream of F-to-E-rank jobs — pest control in the merchant quarter, a delivery run to a neighboring farmstead, a brief escort contract for a minor trader nervous about bandits on a two-day stretch of road. Nothing that risked exposing more than a competent, quietly capable adventurer should show. Coin accumulated slowly, honestly, in a way that felt satisfying precisely because it cost me actual effort rather than a single overwhelming purchase.

Jones’s informal arrangement ran quietly in the background of all of it — occasional notes delivered through Guild runners, updates on the migration investigation’s slow, methodical progress, nothing urgent enough yet to pull me away from the ordinary business of building an unremarkable, believable life in a city large enough to actually let me have one.

The wrinkle came during what should have been a straightforward delivery job — dry goods to a relief shelter set up near the city’s southern gate, housing families displaced from one of the three villages affected by the migration anomaly.

I hadn’t expected the shelter itself to hit as hard as it did. Rows of temporary cots, children too quiet for their age, an old woman describing, in flat, exhausted tones, watching wolves tear through livestock pens that had stood undisturbed for thirty years before this season. The abstract mystery Jones and Alphina had both approached as research suddenly had faces attached to it, and something in my chest tightened uncomfortably at the reminder that whatever waited in that forest wasn’t merely academically interesting.

"Third village to empty out this month," the shelter’s overseer told me, accepting the delivered goods with tired gratitude. "Guild keeps saying they’re working on it. Doesn’t put anyone back in their homes, though."

I left the delivery with a heavier weight than I’d carried into it, and found myself, for the first time since arriving in Tula, genuinely eager for Jones’s next update rather than treating the investigation as background business.

Alphina found me two days later, tracking me down at the tavern above my rented room with the same purposeful directness she’d shown even while cornered by Tuskboars.

"You’ve been avoiding the Arcanum," she said, settling across from me without waiting for an invitation, a rolled sheaf of parchment tucked under one arm. "I half expected you’d have come by with questions by now."

"Been busy settling in," I said, which was true enough.

"Well, I’ve made progress regardless." She unrolled the parchment across the table — dense notation, sketched creature migration patterns, a rough map considerably more detailed than the one Jones had shown me. "The convergence point’s location is narrowing. Whatever’s drawing them sits roughly here—" she tapped a spot deep in the forest, well beyond where either scouting party had managed to reach, "—and the pull’s strength appears to be increasing week over week, not holding steady."

"Increasing how quickly?"

"Quickly enough that I’ve petitioned the Arcanum to escalate this from research interest to genuine emergency response," she said, a note of frustration creeping into her voice. "They’re moving slower than I’d like. Everyone treats it like an interesting puzzle instead of what it actually is."

I studied her notation, genuinely appreciating the careful, meticulous work even as my attention, unbidden, drifted toward considerably more mundane concerns. Coin. Sustainable income. The kind of steady, unremarkable prosperity that would let me actually settle into Tula rather than living quest to quest indefinitely.

"It’s serious," I agreed, mostly to be polite, "but I trust the Guild and the Arcanum both to keep working it properly. Jones seems thorough enough."

Alphina’s expression flickered with mild disappointment at my measured response, clearly having hoped for more urgent engagement. "You rescued me from three Tuskboars without blinking, and now you’re telling me a growing anomaly displacing entire villages doesn’t concern you?"

"It concerns me," I said honestly. "I just don’t think worrying harder about it changes the timeline any. Jones knows I’m willing to help when there’s something concrete to act on. Until then—" I shrugged, "—I’ve got my own business to attend to."

She studied me a long moment, something between exasperation and grudging understanding settling into her expression. "Practical to a fault," she said finally, rolling her notes back up. "Fine. I’ll keep you updated regardless, whether you’re properly worried or not."

"I’d appreciate that," I said, and meant it, even if my mind had already begun drifting toward the considerably more immediate problem of turning my absurd hidden resources into something sustainable.

That evening, alone in my rented room, I opened the Shop with a genuinely new kind of purpose — not combat capability this time, not survival, but the quiet, practical business of building actual wealth.

I’d been sitting on ninety million points, and a domain rich enough to grow anything the System’s catalog offered, for two weeks now without properly exploiting either. Verdant Genesis Array sat theoretical and unused, exactly the kind of gap between ownership and practice I’d learned, painfully, not to leave idle for long.

[Rare Seedling Bundle: Moonpetal Iris — 8,000 pts]

A rare alchemical flower prized for potency in high-tier healing potions. Market value considerably elevated due to slow natural growth cycles.

[Rare Sapling: Ember Root Tree — 12,000 pts]

Produces roots with significant fire-attribute alchemical properties. Extremely rare in cultivated form; typically foraged from dangerous volcanic regions.

[Rare Seedling Bundle: Silverthread Vine — 6,000 pts]

A vine yielding fibers usable in enchanted textile production. High demand among tailors and enchanters alike.

[Rare Sapling: Duskwood Sentinel — 15,000 pts]

A slow-growing tree whose bark holds latent mana-conductive properties, prized by wandmakers and staff crafters.

I selected a generous quantity of each, alongside a handful of smaller, common but reliably valuable herb varieties for steady baseline income, the total climbing toward a comfortable sum I barely needed to think twice about.

While I had the Shop open, curiosity nudged me toward the equipment category I’d mostly ignored since my first cautious purchases weeks ago.

[Traveler’s Reinforced Garb — 3,000 pts]

A durable set of adventuring clothing, treated for minor environmental resistance and improved mobility.

Modest, practical, exactly the kind of unremarkable upgrade that wouldn’t draw attention. I added it to the purchase, and confirmed the total.

[44,000 Points spent. 100x Rebate applied across all purchases.]

[4,400,000 System Points refunded.]

The seedlings and saplings materialized into my Inventory with their familiar shimmer, though Absolute Appraisal immediately flagged something considerably more interesting about each.

[Rare Seedling Bundle → upgraded: Pristine Moonpetal Iris (Sovereign Grade)]

Description: A rare cultivar mutation, exhibiting potency and growth speed far beyond standard Moonpetal Iris. Value estimated at significant multiples of the base market rate.

[Rare Sapling → upgraded: Ember Root Ancient (Sovereign Grade)]

Description: An accelerated-maturity variant, capable of producing usable roots within a fraction of the typical decades-long growth cycle.

Every purchase had scaled the same way, the rebate transforming ordinary rare stock into something considerably closer to legendary — a private, hidden fortune quietly taking root, literally, in a kingdom-sized domain no one else knew existed.

The clothing arrived last, and I nearly missed the accompanying description entirely amid my excitement over the plants.

[Traveler’s Reinforced Garb → upgraded: Voidthread Adaptive Raiment]

Description: A masterwork garment woven with rare voidthread fibers, providing substantial resistance to physical, elemental, and mana-based damage alike. Adapts fit and appearance to the wearer’s intent. Grants minor passive regeneration and a modest boost to all attribute categories while worn.

I turned the raiment over in my hands, the fabric shifting texture faintly at my touch, dark and unassuming until I focused intent toward it, watching it ripple briefly into something considerably more refined before settling back into plain, practical traveling clothes.

"Well," I said quietly, to the empty room, feeling the day’s frustrations with Alphina’s understandable urgency finally ease into something closer to satisfaction, "guess practical concerns pay off too, eventually."

I retreated to my domain that night, the familiar seam of silver-edged light tearing open in a private, unwitnessed corner of my rented room, and spent a contented hour planting the newly-acquired seedlings and saplings across the rich, waiting soil near my hillside house, Verdant Genesis Array’s theoretical knowledge finally, satisfyingly put into genuine practice.

Missing villagers, unstable convergence points, growing anomalies, I thought, watching the first Ember Root Ancient sapling settle into soil that already seemed to hum faintly in welcome. Those are Jones’s problem, mostly, and Alphina’s, until they actually need my sword. Tonight, I’m just a man planting a garden that happens to be worth more than a small kingdom’s treasury.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!