Jack was almost home, walking the final stretch of Ashengate’s streets. His inventory was full to the brim with earthenware clay. Between that and the molds he’d made earlier, he finally had everything he needed to start brickmaking.

  He kicked a pebble off the road as he rehearsed yet another way to get the conversation started.

  “Rob, I have some bad news…”

  No. Too ominous.

  “Rob, you might want to sit down for this. Don’t freak out about what I’m going to say, but—”

  Ugh. That didn’t feel right either.

  “Rob, hate to spring this on you but…”

  Still too clumsy.

  Nothing sounded right. Every version felt too dramatic, too soft, or too casual. How were you supposed to tell someone who’d lived in your house, eaten at your table, that their beloved uncle was terminally ill?

  A soft chime interrupted his spiraling thoughts.

  Congratulations! One of your hives has split.

  +100,000 XP in [Beekeeping]

  Congratulations! You’ve reached level 3 in journeyman [Beekeeping]!

  New recipe unlocked: [Spicy Candle].

  Jack blinked at the message.

  It had been two days since he’d last leveled [Beekeeping]. In the journeyman tier it took forever to gain levels. It was comforting to receive news of some progress.

  Guess the rod is finally doing its thing.

  Even one more hive working full-time would make a difference. [Royal Jelly] was his single greatest source of revenue right now, and he needed it to be working at full swing.

  His [Hive Ownership] skill capped him at four hives. With this split, he was almost producing at capacity.

  He picked up the pace. By the time he reached his front door, he was already half-jogging. The hinges gave a familiar creak as he stepped inside.

  Leaning against the wall, the pot bots greeted him. Each bore a different hand-painted face. Together, they looked like a welcome committee overwhelmed by conflicting emotions.

  He crossed the room in a few strides, passed the rod leaning against the wall, and stepped out onto the patio.

  The hives stood exactly where he’d left them—the quiet little engines of his livelihood.

  One of the formerly empty pots had been claimed. Guard bees hovered protectively around its entrance as a steady stream of workers zipped in and out.

  The other two hives looked unchanged—steady, buzzing, familiar.

  That’s odd.

  When he’d first split a hive manually, there had been a progress bar showing that a new queen was being bred in the old hive. Was that not needed in this case?

  Jack crouched and watched the new hive. It already looked full. Much busier than when he’d manually split the hive. He didn’t remember seeing both old and new hives so active then.

  Maybe when a hive splits naturally, the population divides evenly? The whole thing just… halves?

  If so, this was so much better. Each hive had everything it needed to get to work immediately. With forced splits, he’d been unable to harvest honey or resources for a full twenty-four hours.

  He straightened, eyes drifting back to the doorframe.

  The Splitwood Rod leaned there. It still looked unassuming—just a smooth, reddish length of acacia wood with a faint, vinegar-like scent—but the results spoke for themselves.

  Jack exhaled slowly. “You’re worth your weight in gold, aren’t you?”

  At this rate, it wouldn’t be long before the fourth pot hive was occupied, too.

  Let’s take a look at that new recipe. He tapped it open

  Recipe for: [Spicy Candle]

  Ingredients:

  ??2x [Beeswax]

  ??[Wick]

  ??[Candle Mold]

  ??[Dried Hot Pepper]

  Instructions:

  Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

  ??Melt the [Beeswax] in a heat-safe container over a controlled flame.

  ??Add the [Dried Hot Pepper] to the melted wax and stir gently to infuse.

  ??Secure the [Wick] at the center of your candle mold.

  ??Pour the infused [Beeswax] into the mold, ensuring the wick remains upright.

  ??Allow the candle to cool and harden.

  ??Trim the wick to the desired length.

  Requirements:

  ??[Wax Factory], lvl. 1

  ??[Chandler], lvl. 1

  ??[Beekeeping], Journeyman Lv.?3

  He’d finally unlocked his second candle recipe.

  The name rang a faint bell. Curious, Jack searched it online to confirm what it actually did.

  Spicy Candle (Uncommon)

  A candle made with hot peppers and beeswax. Infuses the people around it with strength and energy.

  Durability: 8

  Item effects: Burn it to increase the damage of allies by 10%.

  A grin tugged at his mouth.

  Of course. He’d seen this one in the guides and forums when he was first figuring out what beekeepers did in this game.

  He already had the beeswax. All he needed was a few dried hot peppers, which he could pick up at the market. He’d try a batch later.

  He clapped his hands, then turned toward the hives. “Well then,” he said aloud. “I’ll leave you… bee.”

  The moment the words left his mouth, he winced. The buzzing halted for half a beat, as if the bees were processing the joke. One of them fell mid-flight, dropping dead. Or maybe that was just his impression.

  “Yikes. Tough audience,” Jack muttered, retreating inside.

  It was time to make bricks.

  He took out clay and gathered it into rough, evenly spread mounds. Then prinkling flour inside a mold, he pressed it against the clay. He scraped the excess, and when he carefully lifted the mold, the clay held its shape. A perfect brick.

  You have molded [Brick].

  +5XP in Pottery

  +5XP in Masonry

  As he worked, frustration bubbled under his skin. There was too much to do, and here he was, molding clay like a medieval craftsman.

  He could make a hundred bricks like this. But thousands? Not with everything else on his plate. Not when every minute spent here meant something else falling behind. He had so many recipes left untouched. There were so many items he could be making to sell in auctions, but he couldn’t.

  He stepped back and surveyed the room. His eyes landed on the sad little band of pot bots, slouched in the corner like bored kids in detention. This was such a simple recipe. Couldn’t they at least handle this?

  He’d already tried getting them to manage the simplest recipes and they’d fumbled it. But maybe there was a way to simplify this task—strip it down to the bare motions, something even they couldn’t mess up.

  A message came in. When he saw who the sender was, he froze.

  Holly: Hi, Jack! Just watched Amari’s last post. I’m really enjoying finding out more about your class! It’s so interesting! Anyway, I hope you’re well! See ya.

  Jack stared at the message for a long moment. It wasn’t much—just a friendly note. But somehow it hit hard.

  He hadn’t spoken to her since Friday night, when she’d called after they’d run into each other at her dorm.

  Now, two days later, seeing her name again stirred something he’d been trying to keep sealed away since the news about his father.

  Every minute that wasn’t spent working toward making money felt wrong.

  He shouldn’t call her. He didn’t have time to be talking to a girl.

  But—he needed help. Holly was clever, and she had a way of cutting to the point without being harsh. Maybe she could help him figure out how to explain everything to Rob. To the team.

  And she was studying engineering. She might have ideas for tackling the pot bots’ problem.

  Yes. That was reason enough. Her insight. Her problem-solving.

  Not because he wanted to hear her voice. Not because he needed to see her.

  He stared at the message hovering before him, thumb hovering over her name. A quiet part of him hoped she wouldn’t pick up. Another part hoped she would.

  He swallowed hard and pressed it.

  As the ringtone echoed, he noticed how fast his heart was beating. His face felt hot. After a couple of rings, he decided to give up—just as her image flickered to life. She was in the same cozy room, but with a different hoodie this time. This one was bright yellow.

  “Hi, Jack!” she said with a sunny smile.

  “Hey, Holly. How’s it going?”

  “I’m good! You?”

  He tried to smile. “Yeah. Good.”

  She tilted her head slightly, squinting at the screen. “Are you sick?”

  “What? No. Why?”

  “You just look… tired. Like you haven’t slept. Or like you’ve aged a couple of years since Friday.”

  Jack let out a short, dry laugh. “Yeah. Today’s been rough.”

  “How come?” She leaned in, quiet, her silence inviting.

  He took a breath. “I found out my dad has cancer.”

  Holly’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my goodness… Jack. I’m so sorry.”

  He nodded, jaw tight.

  “But there’s treatment, right?”

  “There is. But they’re asking 500k for it.” His throat burned. “We can’t afford it. But I’m going to find a way. I’ll come up with the money, somehow.”

  “Jack, half a million credits is a lot of money,” she said softly.

  “I don’t care.” His voice hardened. “Even if it kills me, I’ll find a way. I already have a plan. It will work. It has to.”

  When Jack met her gaze again, her mouth opened, then closed. After a moment, she finally spoke. “You’re a good son, Jack."

  He shook his head. “No. Not at all. Just a desperate one.”

  “A bad son wouldn’t love his dad this much.”

  For a second, the ache in his chest loosened. Something about her calm smile anchored him.

  The moment lingered. Then he exhaled and pushed on, before the courage could fade. “I knew it,” he said, forcing a small smile. “You really are the perfect person to ask.”

  Holly straightened slightly. “Uh? To ask what?”

  “For help.”

  “Help? What for?”

  Jack rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling a little foolish. “I need to tell my cousin the news. He’s like a brother to me, and he still doesn’t know about my dad. Same with my team. I can’t do this without them. But every time I think of how to say it, the words don’t come out. I need someone’s help to rehearse what I’ll say to them.”

  “And you decided to ask me…”

  “Yes. You’re the first person I thought of.”

  Her eyes widened just a little. “Me? The first?” she asked, pointing a finger at herself.

  “Yeah. You. Holly, you seem like someone who always knows the perfect thing to say. Just now, you made me feel so much better. The way you speak is so refreshing. And you’re… really smart. I figured if anyone could help me, it’d be you.”

  There was a beat of silence. Holly glanced away for half a second. Her fingers brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her smile came slowly, almost hesitant. “I don’t think anyone’s ever said that about me before.”

  Jack narrowed his eyes. How had no one told her that before? “I really mean it. Will you help me?”

  She looked down, then up again. It was the first time Jack had seen her hesitate about anything. She nodded. “Sure. I mean… of course, I’ll help.”

  “So,” Jack said, easing back a little, “I guess my first question is—how do you think I could tell my cousin?”

  “Well…” Holly said, thinking. “Why don’t you tell me the ideas you had, and I’ll give you my feedback?”

  Jack smiled. Somehow, whenever he talked to this girl the impossible became simple.