The teleportation vases and the Splitwood Rod were right where he left them. He inspected the rod leaning against the wall, near the door to the patio.
Splitwood Rod (Legendary)
A rod fashioned from a piece of Scindere Acacia, a tree species that has gone extinct. It releases a vinegar-like scent that mysteriously influences bees.
Durability: ∞
Effects:
Plant this rod near your bee hives; it can influence bees in a 10-meter radius;
Each nearby hive has a 5% chance of spontaneously splitting per day. Requires an empty hive;
Boosts [Royal Jelly] generation by 20%;
Boosts honey production and bee growth by 50%;
Bees live longer;
Greatly boosts the hives’ resistance against diseases.
The best part was that the rod didn’t need to be outside to function. As long as it was within range, it could remain safely indoors while the hives thrived just outside.
Jack opened the back door and checked on his bees. Four pot hives were arranged neatly, one at each corner, with enough space between them for easy access and to allow for hive splitting. He had made sure to leave two empty pots ready in case the splitting effect triggered.
He scanned the hives, hoping to see signs of a recent split, but nothing had changed.
With a shrug, Jack closed the door and stepped back inside. He extended his hand toward the center of the room.
Time Field!
A soft shimmer spread outward from his glowing ring, forming a dome with a five-meter radius—just enough to cover most of the house.
Having a place of his own meant he could use the field freely, without worrying about anyone disturbing him. And the best part was that the Time Field didn’t expire. As long as he stayed inside its range, he could work at double speed for as long as he wanted.
Even if he was doing research or just thinking, from now on, he wasn’t going to waste his precious time. If he pushed every second to its limit, maybe—just maybe—he could stretch time far enough to find a way to help his dad.
He opened the system menu and pulled up one of the rewards from completing the Breach.
Recipe for: [Pinned Barrel]
Ingredients:
? [Fired Clay Cylinder]
? 60x [Pegs]
? [Axle Rod]
? [Crank Handle]
? [Mounting Bracket]
Instructions:
? Shape and fire a hollow clay cylinder.
? Shape 60 tin pegs using a hammer and basic tools.
? Mark and insert the pegs into the cylinder’s outer surface.
? Fit the axle rod and attach the crank handle.
? Mount the barrel so it spins freely.
Requirements:
? [Pottery], lvl. 10
? [Tinkering], lvl. 7
He tapped his foot. Why had the Blessed Chest given him this?
Amari said these chests were supposed to generate rewards tailored to a player’s current path. They were supposed to be gear or recipes that fit like a glove. But he didn’t even know Tinkering. It was almost as if the system were nudging him to learn the minor.
“Hint taken,” he said aloud.
He pulled up the site he usually checked for all things profession-related and navigated to the introductory page for Tinkering.
Tinkering
Looking for a profession that rewards clever thinking, battlefield creativity, and a dash of chaos? Tinkering might be just what you're looking for. This two-tier minor lets you craft small gadgets, gizmos, and toys.
Tinkerers can build everything from wind-up toys that draw enemy aggro to smoke bombs, zip-line anchors, and jack-in-the-box punching gloves. The more you level up, the more intricate your creations become. Higher-tier gadgets are known to have some truly wild effects.
Tinkering pairs especially well with Smithing. It’s no wonder the tutorial even recommends this combo for new players.
The drawbacks? Most of your creations are one-time consumables. Many players are reluctant to buy them. Even if you plan to use them yourself, knowing which gadget to use and when is an art in itself. If you struggle to manage multiple tools or quick-switching in combat, this minor might not be for you.
Also, the fiddly, detail-oriented work required to craft each device isn’t for everyone. This might be why Tinkering ranks among the top three minors with the most dropouts.
To learn this minor, look for children playing with a broken toy in the streets. You can usually find several in the slums of any city. Help fix the toy, and an inventor NPC will appear, offering to mentor you.
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Pros:
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Great for tactical play and battlefield creativity
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Versatile toolset
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Synergizes well with Smithing
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Two-tier progression
Cons:
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Items are consumable or short-lived
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Requires juggling lots of tools and quick thinking
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Not profitable due to low market demand
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Crafting process can be meticulous and frustrating
Rank: C–
“C-minus. Not exactly encouraging.”
Tinkering sounded interesting, but it also sounded like a time sink. A fiddly, high-effort, low-payoff kind of minor. He agreed with the guide: crafting one-time-use items wasn’t always worth it. He knew it from experience.
There were already plenty of one-time-use consumables he could make: smoke bombs, molotov cocktails, fermentation bombs, mead bottles that doubled as buffs and throwable heals for teammates, and bushcraft medicine, pickles, and stews.
Why add another consumable-focused minor to the pile?
He rubbed his face with both hands.
The truth was, he didn’t have the bandwidth. Not anymore. When he had Riku and Esther helping him out, maybe. But outside of the Breach, it was all on him. And even with the Time Field helping him stretch the hours, he would already be juggling more than he could handle.
Taking up something as demanding as Tinkering just didn’t make sense. And yet... There was the recipe.
An item from a Blessed Chest wasn’t supposed to be random. There had to be a reason why the system had judged this recipe to fit him. He couldn’t just ignore it. He had to find out at least what it did.
“Let’s get this over with,” he muttered, heading for the door.
Jack left the house, double-checking the lock before stepping away. The legendary rod alone was worth a small fortune—never mind the vases or the queens in the hives. He wasn’t about to lose everything just because he forgot to turn the key.
Living between the slums and the city center had its perks. The rent was low, the location discreet, and if things ever went sideways, it gave him a quicker exit from town than most players. Right now, it also offered him a quick path to his destination. It didn’t take long for him to reach the edge of the slums.
Ashengate’s devs seemed to love dark construction materials, and even the slums stuck to the theme. The shacks and crumbling homes here weren’t built from the sun-bleached wood he’d seen in Embersgate, but black timber, weathered to the color of coal.
The deeper he went, the dimmer it got. The city’s reinforced lamp system barely extended this far, and what few lights remained flickered weakly.
Jack kept his eyes open for any children playing with broken toys, but all he saw were slouched NPCs and a few rowdy bars spilling muffled laughter and the occasional crash of glass into the street.
A figure stumbled out the door and vomited onto the cobbles before groaning and crawling back inside.
Are there even kids out at this hour?
It was the thick of night in-game—2 a.m. by the system clock. Even in the slums, most children probably weren’t up at this time, let alone outside with a broken toy in hand. He rubbed his temples. Maybe he’d have to come back after sunrise.
‘Mother’ is calling you.
He accepted the call.
“Mom? Is everything okay?” he asked, a stab of fear tightening in his chest. Had something happened to his father?
“Yes. Jack, there are two gentlemen here carrying a large box and asking where we want the capsule. Can you...?”
“Sure, sure. I’m coming out right now.”
The search for a child with a broken toy would have to wait.
Jack logged out, blinked into the dim sunlight filtered through shutters, and swung his legs out of bed. The moment he stood, his vision spun, and he grabbed the edge of the mattress to stay upright.
“Oof... got up too fast.”
Maybe logging straight into the game without eating hadn’t been the brightest idea.
Jack came down the stairs and was met with a very different scene from three hours earlier.
His father now looked steady, almost strong again, and his mother’s grief was buried beneath layers of hospitality. Two burly men stood in the kitchen, each clutching a glass of water. Their navy-blue polos were emblazoned with the Nexus Co. logo across the chest, the letters stitched in silver thread.
His mother stood in the kitchen, smiling faintly as she chatted with the two burly deliverymen.
“Do either of you have children? Nieces? Dogs? I love dogs. What kind of dogs do you have?”
“Uh… a daughter, ma’am.”
“I have a chihuahua.”
The men tried their best to look appreciative while also inching toward the door with their eyes.
“I’m here, I’m here,” Jack said, stepping into the kitchen. “Hi, gentlemen. Sorry to keep you waiting.”
One of them let out a small breath of relief. “Hello, sir. You’re the one who ordered the capsule?”
“That’s right.”
“Where do you want us to put it?”
“In my room, if that’s okay.”
“Lead the way.”
Jack took the stairs two at a time and hurried into his room, scrambling to clear space. He lifted his nightstand and the laundry hamper, plopping both onto the bed. Then he grabbed the scattered books from the floor, kicked a storage box under the desk, and shoved his chair into the corner.
From downstairs, he heard the muffled voices of the men.
“Careful, careful. Watch the corner.”
“I see it. Steady now.”
The sound of heavy footsteps echoed up the stairs, followed by the creak of strained wood as they carried a large, rectangular box into his room.
Jack stepped aside to give them space, watching as one of them set the box down with a grunt while the other reached for a box cutter. A few quick flicks later, the cardboard flaps were peeled back, revealing the capsule inside.
It was a simple black box. It almost looked like a coffin. It was made of matte black metal with rounded edges, broken only by a narrow strip of LED indicators running along the base.
“Power’s right there,” Jack offered.
“Thanks. It’ll take us about fifteen minutes to get everything set up,” one of them said.
“Fine by me.”
Part of him wanted to use the 15 minutes to head straight back into the game and get back to work, but the spinning in his head told him otherwise. If he didn’t eat something soon, he really was going to pass out.
He reached for the VRX helmet on his bed and headed back downstairs while the men installed the capsule.
“Hey, guys.”
“Jack… what’s going on?”
“One sec.”
Jack moved straight to the cupboard and scanned the shelves. Tucked behind a jar of honey and an old bag of flour was a bar of baking chocolate—his mom’s go-to for cakes.
He broke off a piece and popped it into his mouth. It was rich, slightly bitter, barely sweet—but it helped. He turned to face his parents. “Sorry. My head was starting to spin. What’s up?”
“What is that thing they’re installing?” his father asked.
“It’s a gaming capsule,” Jack said. “If we’re going to have any shot at covering your treatment, I need to work around the clock. I can’t afford to log out for bathroom breaks or meals. With the capsule, I can stay in longer.” He paused. “Which reminds me…”
He held the helmet out to his dad.
“Thank you so much for this. It’s still within the warranty period. You should be able to return it for a refund. Every penny’s going to matter from here on out.”
His dad accepted the helmet slowly, then glanced at Jack’s mom. They exchanged one of those silent conversations only long-married couples could manage.
“You’re going to stay inside that thing all the time?” his father asked.
Jack nodded.
His mother’s brow creased. “Isn’t that... dangerous?”
“No! Of course not,” Jack said, waving it off.
“Jack, it's too much. The machine only imitates sleep and food. Your body still needs the real thing.”
He shook his head. “It’s just for the next few months. I’ll be okay.”
Her eyes reddened. “Jack, you—”
“I’ll be hunky-dory, Mom. Besides, the capsule hooks me to an IV. It filters my blood, feeds me nutrients, and handles waste.” He softened his voice. “Would you mind topping off the nutrient bag and emptying the waste every couple of days? I’ll show you how. It’s not hard.”
“O-okay,” she said, her voice catching.
“Thanks.” He let out a breath. “Now... can I please get something to eat? I’m starving.”