The morning breeze was cooler up here. He took a slow breath and let it settle him. Arms crossed, he leaned against the chimney and brought up his list of notifications.
Three new skills. Nine new recipes.
He went through each one carefully, looking for anything that might hint at their true value. While he read, the sun rose over Ashengate.
With the city lit by dawn, its true colors emerged. What had looked solid black by night became a layered tapestry: deep browns, smoke-streaked grays, flashes of rust-red. The mix of tones gave the city a dark beauty.
He leaned against the chimney as the breeze tugged at his hair, sifting through the synergies. But even after going over each entry twice, he found nothing.
Was brick a superior material? Or just easier to work with?
The brick recipes looked nearly identical to their stone counterparts. [Brick Chimney] and [Stone Chimney], for example, were virtually the same. The instructions and material costs were identical; only the building block differed.
If he built one and then the other, what would change? Would their attributes differ at all? If there was any superiority to bricks, it wasn’t in the blueprint. He’d have to find it the hard way: through testing. And for that, he needed bricks. A lot of them.
He pulled up the recipe.
Recipe for: [Brick]
Ingredients:
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5x [Earthenware Clay]
Instructions:
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Shape the clay into the form of a brick.
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Let it dry.
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Fire it.
Requirements:
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[Masonry];
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[Pottery].
The recipe couldn’t have been simpler. The only novelty from his usual work was that, instead of being hollow, each piece would be solid. That, and the straight lines—everything he’d made with pottery until now had elegant curves.
He scratched his chin, picturing how the crafting would go.
He’d probably make a clay mold to keep the sizes uniform. After that, brickmaking would be straightforward.
Drying and firing would take time—and time was the one thing he couldn’t afford to waste. He’d better get started.
He was just about to head for the Pottery Association when a chime broke the morning calm.
Horace has logged in.
A message popped up a second later.
“Yo, Jackie. What are you doing all the way down in Ashengate?!”
Jack's breath caught. It hadn’t even been a full day since he’d last talked to Horace, but somehow it felt like an eternity ago. Hearing about his father’s illness had warped his concept of time. There was the time before he found out about his dad, and the time after that.
He hadn’t said a word about buying a capsule, logging in early, or coming to Ashengate—much less about how he was trying to make half a million credits in the game. What was he supposed to say now?
He took a breath and typed back, “I came here to take care of some stuff while you guys were offline.”
He half expected the questions to come pouring in. Why aren’t you resting? Why’d you go alone? What’s going on, Jack?
Instead, the reply came fast.
“OK. Coming!”
“OK, coming?” he repeated, stunned. No questions or hesitation. To Horace, it was simple: If you’re there, I’m coming.
He stood still, soaking in the morning sun. The rooftops around him were warming, the stone beneath his sandals slowly losing its chill.
Horace’s reaction didn’t lift the weight in his chest—it only made it clearer how much he would have to face soon. He wasn’t going to get through this alone. He was going to have to tell the rest of the team about his dad.
And that meant telling Rob. Rob, who had lived with them for nearly a year after moving from Portugal. Rob, who was like his brother. How was he going to take the news? How was Jack supposed to explain what was happening—without breaking his cousin’s heart?
He should’ve thought all this through before. I’ve got maybe two hours before Horace arrives. Rob should log in around that time, too.
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Jack straightened, brushed the dust from his pants, and turned toward the Pottery Association.
No more standing still. He’d start making molds and bricks. And while his hands were working, he’d think of the best way to break the bad news to his cousin gently. That, and how he could tell his team about his plans.
He spammed [Dash] each time it came off cooldown, feet slapping the cobblestones as he raced through Ashengate. The familiar burst of speed carried him down alleys and over gutters, weaving through foot traffic.
But as he ran, something about the city urged him to slow.
Where once he’d only seen buildings, now he noticed the masonry in them. He spotted a sequence of long stones tucked between smaller ones to stabilize a corner. The joints weren’t perfectly aligned. Each row staggered slightly from the one below.
He wouldn't have noticed that before.
It was strange, really. All this time, walking by buildings without a second thought. Now he couldn’t unsee the little details.
Then his eye caught on something else: bricks. Tucked between soot-streaked stone facades, he spotted them—a storefront wall, a window arch framed in reddish clay. Then, through a shop’s window, a brick-built hearth.
One day, he would be able build all the things he was seeing. Maybe even bigger things.
When he reached the Pottery Association, he stopped just outside the gate, admiring the building. It was made of dark, purplish-brown brick. He’d passed through this entrance twice in the last day, but only now did it hit him. Every Pottery Association he’d visited, in Ashengate, in Embersgate, even in Pearlsgate, had been made of brick.
It was a statement. We don’t need anything else but clay. With clay, we can build anything.
He stepped inside and walked straight to the front desk.
The NPC there was middle-aged, square-jawed, and wore an apron smudged with clay all over. He glanced up as Jack approached. “Yes?”
“I would like to rent one of the private workshops.”
“Oh? Embarrassed others might see you work? Or do you just need silence to concentrate?” the NPC said with a faint smile.
“Little of both,” Jack said with a shrug, placing a gold coin on the counter.
The man pocketed it smoothly. “Not your first time, is it?”
“That’s correct.”
The man turned and opened a drawer from which he fished a bronze key. “Room 1 is available. Right that way.”
Jack accepted the key and headed through the door the NPC had indicated. Despite the steep price, he preferred to err on the side of caution and avoid the communal workshop. Working there would increase the chances of him being spotted by someone from IronIre.
He was the first one on the left. Jack stepped into the workshop. A clay box sat beneath the bench, tools hung neatly on the wall, and a kiln nestled into the rear corner. A single glass case displayed ceramic works from other potters.
Jack rolled up his sleeves and eyed the empty workbench, already thinking about the work ahead. Before anything else, he needed to decide on the size of the bricks. If the bricks were too small, laying them would become a time sink. If he made them too large, they’d be awkward to fire and useless for detail work.
He grabbed a lump of earthenware clay and began shaping it into a brick.
He flattened the base, squared the edges, and used his fingers to press out the bulk of the form. He scanned the tools and spotted an L-shaped rule. He pushed it against the corners, refining the angles—one pass at a time. He slid the shorter arm across the base and let the long side climb the wall, checking each angle.
He made sure it was slightly larger than what he wanted. Bricks shrank as they dried, and he had no intention of ending up with undersized blocks. After a moment’s thought, he made it even larger.
The mold would shrink, too. He had to account for that.
Once the form looked decent, he compared the lines against the edge of the table, looking for warps. Sure enough, one side sagged slightly. Jack added a touch of clay, smoothed it out, and checked again.
This time, it lined up perfectly.
He sat back, watching the system-generated progress bar float above the soft brick.
You have molded [Brick].
+5XP in Pottery
+5XP in Masonry
As the brick began drying, his thoughts drifted back to the real world.
How was he going to tell Rob about his father? What words would he use? And what about his teammates? Would they support him? He hoped so. Because he was going to need them.
He needed Amari to release the team’s videos faster so that he could start generating royalties. Horace was more experienced than he was at auctioning. With his help, he could increase his profit margin.
Rob… that was the trickiest. He’d taken time off for the Breach, sure, but he still had his construction job. He would definitely volunteer to help and probably quit his job without a second thought. But was that the best thing for him? He didn’t want to mess with his cousin’s life.
Rob had his own apartment and bills to pay. Did he want to ask his cousin to quit or talk him out of it?
The thoughts swirled, tangled, impossible to untangle cleanly. Before he could find the right words, the brick's color shifted. It was ready to be fired.
He placed the piece gently in the private workshop’s kiln and locked it in. Then he sat back and waited, watching the temperature rise and the timer tick down.
As he watched the brick through the glass, he studied the kiln's brickwork. “Another thing made of brick…” How cool would it be to make his own private brick, too? That would save him the hassle of coming here again.
The brick finished firing. Jack fished it out of the kiln. As it cooled, he received a notification.
Congratulations! You’ve crafted [Brick].
Crafting grade: C
+5 XP in Pottery
+5 XP in Masonry
Brick (Uncommon)
The building block of civilizations. What can’t you build from it?
Durability: 31
[Innovating Genius]: Durability of construction scales with the number of bricks.
Jack smirked at the system’s optimism about the description of the item. It wasn’t wrong.
And receiving the [Inovating Genius] buff confirmed it. He was truly the first and only player in the game capable of making bricks. As for its effect, only further experimenting would show how powerful it was.
Once the brick cooled, he moved on to the next step: the mold. He wiped his hands on a cloth and grabbed a fresh hunk of clay. This time, he reached for stoneware clay. Stronger than earthenware. It would make the mold more durable, and he planned to use these a lot.
He shaped a long rectangle and began raising its walls with care. But when he stepped back to assess, they were too thin. With a sigh, he added more clay, smoothing it into the form, reinforcing each side. This wasn’t a throwaway piece. It had to last.
Once he was satisfied with the structure, he crossed the room to the supply cabinet. He hadn’t brought flour with him, but luckily, everything he needed was available here for a price.
He scooped some into a small dish and returned to the bench. He dusted the cooled brick lightly with flour and did the same to the inside of the mold. A trick he’d picked up from Felix, while crafting ocarinas, which kept the clay from sticking.
Then, with steady hands, he pressed the brick into the mold.
It sank in with a satisfying give. Jack paused once the shape was fully imprinted, then carefully lifted it free. He adjusted the clay walls around the impression, smoothing the edges, tweaking the corners. When everything looked clean and even, he set the mold aside.
You’ve molded [Earthenware Bowl].
+3XP in Pottery.
He chuckled. Apparently, the system saw it as a bowl. He shrugged. As long as he could use it to make bricks faster, that was all that mattered.
One mold down. Nine to go.