The Trespass System: A Dark Fantasy LitRPG, page 1
The Trespass System
A LITRPG Saga
Noam Oswin
COPYRIGHT AND DISCLAIMER
This publication is protected under the United States copyright act of 1976 and all other applicable international, federal, state and local laws, and all rights are reserved, including resale rights: you are not allowed to give or sell this book to anyone else. Except as permitted under the United States Copyright act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in may be reproduced or transmitted in any form whatsoever, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any informational storage or retrieval system without express written, dated and signed permission from the author.
Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
All characters in this work are a product of the mind and is a figment of the author’s imagination and therefore fictional, and make no reference to real people or situations and events, any resemblance to actual events, whether past or present, persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2022 Noam Oswin
All rights reserved.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Prologue
“And, welcome everyone, to All-System Daily! I’m your host, Michel Bandersnatch, and with me is the lovely Miss Liliana Zimmerman.”
“Hello everyone! A pleasure to be here!”
She was one-thirty years old and had the air of a nymphet. Baby-blue eyes, long blonde hair, coconut tits, and apple-red lips. On the Sysnet, she constantly took first place in the category of Granny-I'd-Like-to-Fuck.
Zane liked to joke that Catalan anti-aging treatments would make even Santa Claus a pimp.
“Today marks the one-hundred-and-fiftieth birthday celebration of our Supreme Leader, Augustus Allfather II! That’s right folks, it’s Conquest Day!”
The HoloTV volume increased to full blast with a wave of my finger. Verita groggily rolled over the side of the bed and covered her ears with an available pillow.
“Oh, I love Conquest Day! Last year’s Conquest Day ended spectacularly — Supreme Leader found a new world to conquer, didn’t he?”
I clicked my tongue. They’d definitely write Bandersnatch up for that. The official designation was Realms. Failing that, Dimensions were to be the true-neutral term.
“That’s right Liliana! Last year, Supreme Leader found the world of Terra-F — a dimension home to, believe it or not, sapient felines!”
“Those little critters are adorable! It’s a shame they don’t have Systems.”
Another infraction. System Supremacists would be jerking themselves off at that comment. Liliana was too old not to know better.
I swiped the Sysnet and checked up on her profile on Dames Daily.
Her ratings were slipping. Zane always said an old dog could never compete with a new bitch. Now she wanted to cast her lot in with the demographic old enough to remember her in a school uniform.
The kettle let out a sharp whistle as the water within hit boiling point. With another flick of my fingers, the stovetop turned off and the microwave came on.
I moved in front of the mirror to knot my tie according to GBSA regulations. Stupid things. We wouldn't have any regulations if it weren't for that power couple who began wearing less and less clothing to work as a bet to see how long it'd take before they got sanctioned.
Another groan came from Verita, as did a mumble about volume.
“To our viewers in our interdimensional colonies, I assure you that you are blessed to be loyal serfs of the people of Terra-X.”
“Soooo lucky! You’re so lucky you guys!”
“As many of our native denizens know, about two millennia ago, we on Terra-X were plagued by a pandemic the likes the world had never seen. A third of the planet died of the illness. When it seemed there would be no hope left, our savior arrived!”
“Abraham Allfather the First!”
“That’s right! Abraham Allfather — the First System User. He’d previously earned a Nobel Prize for his revolutionary work on Nanoengineering, and through a combination of his genius wit and his endless perseverance, Abraham Allfather created the System — an autonomous set of nanomachines implemented into the body and brain which would unlock the dormant potential hidden in the human race!”
“Will you please turn that shit off?”
“And miss out on the morning news?” I hummed. “Not a chance.”
“You know it’s all propaganda right?”
"So you keep telling me."
I poured my hot water into a mug and opened the shelf above to grab some tea bags. If Zane were still here, they'd probably be laced.
You've got to live a little, Mech! You only live once you know!
He’d successfully gotten me to drink Ayahuasca once. It was a shame my System didn’t let me enjoy the experience.
I dipped the bags into the mug and approached Verita. She was in the middle of a yawn, and it gave me enough time to land a light kiss on her lip.
"What, no tongue?"
"Brush first."
"Really gonna let a little morning breath get in your way, babe?"
"I've got a meeting to catch."
"Have you forgotten who you're speaking to?"
My jaw clenched. I controlled it. The smile that fell upon my lips was natural. I should know. It took hours to practice. It took years to perfect.
"You know how I feel about that."
"Come on," she pouted. "It's not like I don't use my System for work, or running groceries, or taking impromptu lunches in New Maldives…"
"If the bureau ever finds out —"
"They won't!"
She uttered those words with all the confidence of a teen believing their parents wouldn't know they'd snuck into their liquor cabinet.
"Besides, aren't I lucky to have a boyfriend in the bureau who can bail me out if I'm ever caught?"
"You really think I'd bail you out?"
"Of course you would."
I allowed the silence to linger as I sipped on my tea. It wasn't laced. It wasn't drugged. It was soulless and insipid, like my life and my lover.
The silence lingered with another sip, and Verita's playful demeanor changed. Two years ago, her messy head of black hair and cedar-colored eyes would have bewitched me. The strained expression she wore would have crumbled me.
"You would… right?"
I kissed her cheek once more.
"I'm too insecure to let anyone else see you in handcuffs."
Verita laughed. "In just handcuffs?"
"In just handcuffs."
A beep emerged from the microwave. I moved away from Verita and opened it. The loaf of plain avocado bread I'd bought from the corner bakery yesterday was heated to perfection. I took out the plate, paid no mind to the heat, and set it on the small kitchen table.
"...Following the arrival of Systems, and the rise of a new species of the homo, it was only appropriate for an authoritative body to regulate these abilities, which led to the formation of the Galactic Bureau of System Affairs, operated by non-other than Abraham Allfather, whose extensive scientific knowledge contributed to —"
The channel flickered. A different program emerged, with a man standing atop a stage with a microphone before an audience.
"I was watching that."
"I don't see how you can."
"You have complaints?"
“Abraham Allfather was an archaeologist, not a scientist."
"Unsubstantiated."
"He didn’t invent systems, all he did was unearth a virus. The same virus that wiped out one-third of people on the planet.”
"Unsubstantiated and defamatory," I took a slice from my bread. "Not saying I don't believe you, but —”
"You don't."
"But —" I continued. "Source?"
"All the official records from that time were destroyed during the Great Burn. History has always been written by the victors!"
"Of course it has."
She tossed a pillow at my head which I dodged to the side.
"You work at the bureau. You know what people with Omega-Level Systems are capable of."
"You mean people like you?"
Verita opened her mouth but shut it quickly. "I'm different."
The urge to laugh bubbled in my throat.
Her arms crossed over her chest. "You think I'm not?"
"Your system lets you go anywhere in the known universe, at any time, and bring along any object no greater than twice your bodyweight —"
"And?" She bit out.
"And you used it to become a journalist," I chose my words carefully. "A very healthy and legal utilization of a power someone else might have had foolish ideas for."
"I'm an investigative journalist, thank you very much."
"You're sulking."
"And you're running late."
I checked my watch. Quarter to eight. I finished up my tea, grabbed my briefcase, and approached Verita for another kiss. She turned her face away.
"You really want our last conversati
She snapped her head to me.
"Last?"
"That was how my father went. Had a huge argument with my mother. She cursed him out and said she hated him, said she wished she never married him."
I drew in a deep breath.
"Next time she saw him was at the morgue. She cried and begged him to forgive her. Said she took it all back. But it was too late."
"That's horrible."
"Give me a kiss," I said. "If I die today, I don't want you to have regrets."
"You're not going to die today."
"Statistically, you could be right," I shrugged. "But the odds that you're wrong are never zero."
Verita shook her head before laughing. "You're an asshole, you know that, right?"
"So I've been told."
The kiss was soft and chaste. Her breath still stank of last night's dinner. It reeked of red wine, veal, and pure death.
"Don't die."
"I'll try."
With my suitcase in tow, Verita escorted me all the way to the door, where we kissed again as I left. She held onto my arm tightly, and I gave my best smile.
The door closed behind her and I resisted the urge to vomit. I hastily made my way to the elevator.
It opened up with no one in it. I hit the button for the ground floor, leaned against the wall, and waited. A man entered the elevator with me in a sharp suit. He was older, with a rough beard and thick eyeglasses. An unlit cigarette lay in his mouth and the elevator doors closed just as he lit them.
"Status report?"
"Fuck off, Mazda."
"Don't be an arse Lamech," Mazda grunted. "I'm just checking."
"If I’m still alive?"
"Still sane."
I snorted. Mazda offered me a cigarette, and I shook my head.
"You've seen my psych eval."
"Yeah," he exhaled. "You're about two points shy of complete sociopathy."
"Remember when that used to be a positive for our line of work?"
"New Bureau, new rules," Mazda shrugged. "Be sure to play nice with the incoming Director, yeah?"
The elevator began its descent.
"Male or female?"
"Female."
"Native or immigrant?"
"Immigrant."
"User or…?"
Mazda didn't answer.
"They sent her here to die."
"Seems like it."
"Who'd she piss off?"
"Something about a spat with Alexandria Allfather," Mazda shrugged. "You know how it is."
"She's not a User. Why wouldn't they just —"
I made a gesture with my finger against my throat.
"You have three guesses."
"Powerful backer?"
Mazda grunted. "Rumor has it she's a mistress of Dr. Zheng."
"The Divine Doctor? Truly?"
"Not even the Allfather brats can piss off an Omega-Level System User and get away with it. Daddy's influence only goes so far."
He lit the cigarette finally and took a deep drag out of it. The elevator neared the ground floor as the suffocating smell of nicotine wafted my nostrils.
"Ready?"
"Just do the thing."
Mazda extended his hand outwards, and a translucent door emerged in front of us. The door was spectral, as though it were an illusion or a trick of the light. Without hesitation, he reached out and swung it open.
On the other side of the door was a busy, crowded office, to which Mazda stepped through and I followed suit. The door vanished once we'd passed the other side, and through the busy storm of a Monday morning, on Conquest Day of all days, our appearance barely made a difference.
"I hate Conquest Day."
"Fuck Allfather," Mazda grunted. "If it weren't for his World Conquest System —"
"Might want to keep that down, Maz."
A familiar man approached us both, panting and gasping.
"A-Agent Lamech!"
"Antoine. You're looking a little too out of breath this morning. Someone steal your macarons again?"
"It's A-Agent Lacroix now!"
"You made Agent? Congratulations."
"I j-just wanted a safe desk j-job a-as a p-pencil pusher…" Antoine moaned. "B-but then my System upgraded to Omicron-Level…"
"I know the feeling."
"A-anyway, w-welcome back. T-things h-have c-changed since you were gone."
"Why were you out of breath, Lacroix?" Mazda asked.
"O-oh! The D-Director asked for you two. I t-think it's r-regarding P-Project Aesop."
"Fuck."
Antoine gave me a nod. "If it's any consolation… um… I think it's not bad —"
"Agent Lacroix!" A disembodied voice boomed around us. "This is Agent Murphy! Where the fuck are you, man? We're balls-deep against a Sigma-Level Mimic System User and we sent for you three hours ago!"
"I-I — I wasn't told a-about — um…"
Antoine scurried off in a hurry, not even bothering to say anything in response. Mazda shook his head and sighed.
"He's going to get himself killed."
"Give him some time. He'll adjust."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
I hummed.
"Let's not keep the Director waiting."
It wasn't a long walk to the Director's office. The non-euclidean geometry of the GBSA's building allowed for instant travel times, and at a thought, we stood before a door with a silver plaque reading "Director Arith."
An angry voice bellowed from beyond the door, and my first impression was that the woman had a good pair of lungs. Mazda led the way, not even bothering to knock as he entered, and I accompanied him.
"No, no, no, you listen to me, every fucking Conquest Day, we get an influx of unwanted interdimensional entities, some of which are benign, and almost all of which are outright hostile. Tell your father we do not have the capacity to entertain his stupid fetishes any —"
Director Arith was younger than I expected. She had pristine white skin, long blonde hair, and a heart-shaped facial construction. Even in a modest gray business suit, she would put most A-Class models to shame.
Being the mistress of the Divine Doctor clearly had its benefits.
"Excuse me? Are you threatening me? You think I became the Director of this shithole by bowing to threats? Go ahead and fire me! You'll spend the next fifty years looking for someone half as competent to run this dog-and-pony show!"
The Director hung up. The call was pure audio, so there was no way to know she'd hung up until we heard her curse underneath her breath.
Mazda took that time to clear his throat. "Director Arith."
Arith frowned. "And you are…?"
"Agent Zed Mazda, and my partner —"
"Agent Adam Lamech."
"Ah, I remember," Director Arith frowned. "You're the idiot eating up funds on my predecessor's unsanctioned operation which, if I'm getting this correctly, involves your girlfriend?"
Mazda chuckled. Arith's glare shot toward him.
"Put that thing out of your mouth before you swallow it."
Begrudgingly, Mazda removed the cigarette and stomped it under his feet.
"Not on my goddamn floor —" Director Arith held her breath, before exhaling loudly. "Give me a good reason not to pull the plug on whatever circus you're running."
I unclasped my briefcase and handed over a thick binder to the director.
"Verita Summers, officially, Project Aesop. She possesses a Movement-Type System called the Instant Transmission System."
Arith took the binder. "Level?"
"Originally, it was categorized as Epsilon Level by Bureau personnel. Two years ago, it was necessary to expunge her name from the official records and reclassify her as an Omega-Level System User."
Arith went stiff.
"The only Omega-Level Movement-Type System we have on record belongs to —"
"Augustus Allfather."
The Director swore. "We have so much shit because of his World Conquest System letting him plunder different dimensions. Don't tell me hers can also —"
"Currently Project Aesop is limited to our universe only."
Director Arith let out a large sigh of relief. She leaned back in her seat and flipped through the binder.
"It says here that the time of reclassification was after you started seeing Miss Summers, is that correct?"
"That is correct."
"And you continued despite being made aware of her status?”
"She is," I paused. "Was my childhood sweetheart."
"Was?"
"The woman I knew ceased to exist the moment her System evolved to the Omega-Level."
