Dick the Builder: A Jerk of All Trades

[Avip_br]

Man, last night was really good. The kind of good where I don't even know how I got home.

"Hello," murmurs a childlike voice, which I try to ignore.

And the best part is that even though I drank an SUV's tank worth of beer, I don't have a headache.

"Can you hear me, sir?" says the childlike voice, now with a tone of concern.

My only pain right now is this little bratty voice trying to wake me up for the last fifteen minutes.

"Please wake up," he pleads, whining now.

But who let a kid into my room? Did Barbie let one of her brats in?

"Please, mister hero…" he begs.

"Hero?" I murmur, confused. I finally open my eyes, realizing I'm not in my room, or even in my house. "What the fuck."

I sit up slowly, looking around. I notice I'm in the middle of an infinite white vastness.

"Holy shitty beer and gas station sushi," I curse, surprised. "Where the hell am I?"

I turn toward the voice that was calling me only to find what looks like a translucent child floating a few meters away.

"A ghost?" I mutter, stunned.

He has no distinct features, almost like a cartoonish drawing of a soul with large, glowing eyes. And for some reason, he looks at me with a mix of hope and desperation.

"Who are you?" I ask, still trying to figure out where the hell I am.

"I'm Krusk, sir hero," the boy ghost says, giving a small bow. "I summoned you to save my family." The little one speaks, his voice echoing in the emptiness.

"Save your family? What are you talking about?" I take a step forward, trying to understand what this child ghost is saying. "Take a deep breath and explain."

Krusk tries to calm himself. His big eyes shine with held-back ethereal tears as his figure floats before me.

"My people are being wiped out. Hunted like animals, almost all were killed." His voice trembles, but he continues. "The last group of our warriors... they sacrificed themselves. A suicide mission to steal a fate crystal." He pauses, his translucent body trembling slightly. "To bring you to us."

The mention of lives sacrificed to reach me makes me feel bad. I didn't ask to be summoned and I'm not obliged to help anyone, but I've always had a soft heart.

"They gave their lives so we could have a chance," the young spirit continues. "So we could bring a hero who could save us."

Krusk tries to hold back his sobs, but his emotions overflow. Ethereal tears run down his face, and he drops to his knees in the air, still floating but visibly shaken.

"Please, sir hero. You are our last hope. Don't let their sacrifice be in vain."

His words hit me like a punch in the gut. I look around, the infinite white void feeling colder and more desolate than before.

"I... I'm just a regular guy. A construction worker, to be exact."

Krusk lifts his head, his eyes glowing with fierce determination.

"The fate crystal doesn't lie. It brought you to us for a reason."

The spirit approaches, his small hands grabbing my arm with surprising strength.

"Please, I beg you, help us. Help us avenge our dead and save those who remain."

His voice is a desperate whisper, and I feel a lump form in my throat, but I swallow it down and respond in a firm tone.

"No."

The young specter's eyes widen, shocked by my response.

"B-but w-w-."

He tries to stammer something, but I silence him with a wave of my hand so I can explain.

"Listen here, kid," I start, scratching my neck, trying to find the right words. "It's not that I don't want to help you, but I'm not going to avenge anyone's death without knowing the full context."

"Context?" he repeats, curious.

"Making a long story short… I'm not going to hurt anyone just because you want revenge. I need to know the whole story before doing anything like that," I explain in a didactic tone.

"But you are the hero," pleads the spirit with a childish voice. "It's your duty."

"Sorry, kid," I say, raising my hand. "Like my old man used to say… 'No man is obliged to make a promise, but once you do, you keep it.'"

"It can't be," murmurs the desperate spirit.

"But helping your family I can do," I add, catching the spirit's attention. "I've got nothing else to do, and I don't think you can send me back anyway."

"No… I can't," replies the young specter, ashamed. "I don't have that power, and my soul will vanish in a few minutes…"

"Ish…" I mutter, feeling sorry for the kid. "But don't worry, it's not like I had much going on in my other life, and Barbie can run the family business without me."

"Barbie?"

"My older sister," I reply, focusing on the kid. "But enough chit-chat, let's talk powers!" I shout, catching the boy off guard. "In this kind of story, there's always some cheat power the protagonist gets."

"Powers…" he starts, lost, but soon his eyes widen with understanding. "Oh yes, sir! You do get some."

"Uhuuuu!" I celebrate with raised hands as a window appears in front of me.

[Welcome Hero]​

"Nice," I say, staring at the window. "It even has a gamer interface."

[Choose your path]

1 - Combatant

2 - Specialist

3 - Spell Caster

4 - Iconic

[Choose your path]​

Staring at the interface, I feel a twinge of strangeness.

"Path?" I murmur aloud. "Why not class?" I ask, trying to understand the logic behind it.

The young spirit floats closer.

"Path is what defines the types of classes you have access to." Krusk Explains. "As you become more powerful, your class evolves according to how you use your powers."

I frown, trying to absorb the information.

"So if I choose to be a Combatant, I won't be able to use magic?"

Krusk shakes his head, his translucent body flickering slightly.

"It's possible for someone on the combatant path to take a class that has access to magic, but you won't be as good at magic as a spell caster."

"Ok…" I reply, starting to grasp the scope of this system.

"If the hero places his finger over the choices, you'll be able to see examples of classes in each path."

"Neat," I respond, already bringing my finger to the window.

[Choose your path]

1 - Combatant: Warrior; Barbarian; Martial Artist; Knight; Samurai

2 - Specialist: Rogue; Blacksmith; Alchemist; Bard

3 - Spell Caster: Mage; Druid; Elementalist; Psionic

4 - Iconic: Class tailored specifically for the summoned hero

[Choose your path]​

"I think I already get what the first three are all about," I say, crossing my arms. "But I still don't get what this Iconic will give me."

The ghost boy floats closer, his big eyes glowing with wisdom beyond his apparent age.

"The fourth option is based on you," he explains, his voice echoing in the white void.

"Me?" I say, confused. "Like who I was in my other life?"

"Yes. The fate crystal saw in you what it perceived as necessary and brought you here."

"Hm…" I murmur, trying to understand. "But what does that have to do with the class?"

Krusk smiles, a sad smile, but full of hope.

"The Iconic path was made to be perfect for you. For your mission."

"So…" I begin, trying to understand. "Is this class the most powerful?"

Krusk shakes his head, his translucent body flickering slightly.

"Not necessarily. It's possible to choose other paths and make more powerful builds. But the Iconic is easier to level up, gets access to a more robust system, and is said to be perfect for the hero."

"Robust system…" I repeat, thoughtful. "That sounds cool. But what about the skills? And the powers?"

Krusk shrugs, a strangely human gesture for a spirit.

"That I don't know. The Iconic path is unique to each summoned hero. Only you can find out what it offers.""

I look at the floating window, the Iconic option softly blinking. I feel a chill in my gut, a mix of excitement and fear, as a determined smile forms on my lips.

"I think it's worth the risk." But before selecting the path, I turn to Krusk once more. "Thanks for the quick tutorial, kid. Without that, I'd be more lost than a son of a bitch on Father's Day."

"Ok…" he says, with a tinge of confusion in his voice.

"But there's something I'd like to know. Why are you here with me instead of where you summoned me?"

My question makes Krusk look down, as if ashamed or afraid of something.

"To summon the hero, besides the fate crystal, something of great value must be sacrificed," he begins to explain. "Normally it's mountains of gold and jewels, powerful magical items, or even rare magical reagents like monster corpses."

His translucent body trembles, and he pauses, as if gathering strength to continue.

"But I didn't have any of that. So I sacrificed the only thing I had."

My eyes widen, and a lump forms in my throat.

"What did you sacrifice, Krusk?"

He raises his head, his large eyes shimmering with held-back tears.

"My life, sir hero."

The world stops for a moment. My heart pounds in my chest, and a wave of emotions washes over me.

"How old were you, Krusk?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

He gives me a sad smile, but full of courage.

"I was going to turn eight in seven days."

Reality hits me like a punch in the stomach. A kid so young, with so much life ahead…

"Why did you do that, Krusk?"

White smoke tears run down his ethereal face, and he answers between sobs.

"There was no other way, sir hero. I was by myself in the temple, and my older sister… she's fighting alone against an empire soldiers… I had to do something."

Each word is like a stab to my heart. I clench my fist and say, "Then enough talk."

The spirit blinks his ethereal eyes, staring at me, confused.

"I already said I'm not giving you revenge," I say, selecting the Iconic path.

[Iconic path chosen]​

"But your sacrifice won't be in vain." I point to the young spirit. "I will help your family."

Krusk's ethereal body begins to dissolve, white smoke tears falling from his face once again, but now filled with relief and gratitude.

"Thank you, sir hero." His voice echoes, growing weaker.

"Go rest, kid," I reply, feeling a tightness in my chest. "This fight's mine now."

A door of blue light forms in front of me, pulsing with an energy that seems to call me mentally.

"Let's see what this isekai world's got in store," I murmur, stepping forward.

I cross the portal, ready to begin my new life.

########## Scene break ##########​

I appear in a dark cave, lit only by the faint glow of a nearly extinguished torch on the ground. Beside it is a pile of clothes. I approach, the flickering light illuminating the worn but clean fabric.

'Must have belonged to Krusk,' I think sadly.

As soon as I pick up the torch and clothes from the ground, a window opens in front of me.

[Do you want to store it? Y/N]​

I click yes and a new window pops up.

[Inventory]​

[1] Dead child's clothes.

Max Capacity: 500 kg (1102 lbs)

[Inventory]​

"Cool," I cheer with a smile. "I have an inventory." But as soon as I see the information in the footer, I get a little sad. "Ew! It has a load limit... at least it's big."

As soon as I place the clothes in the inventory, the window updates.

Feeling down from the item description, I decide to distract myself by focusing on what I know about LitRPGs.

"Now how do I check my status-."

As soon as I mention status, the window opens in front of me.

[Status]​

Name: Richard Bráulio de Melo Pinto Aquino Rego

Class: Lvl 1 Builder

HP: 40/40

MP: 40/40



MIGHT [3]

Endurance [6] (3 + 3)

Strength [5] (2 + 3)

Vitality [4] (1 + 3)



DEXTERITY [2]

Finesse [5] (3 + 2)

Reaction [4] (2 + 2)

Speed [3] (1 + 2)



MENTAL [1]

Intellect [3] (2 + 1)

Perception [2] (1 + 1)

Will [4] (3 + 1)

XP: 65% AP: 0

[Status]​

"I hate it when they use my full name, it's such a mouthful," I say, tapping the paper. "Can I just go by Dick?"

In response the system changed.

"Whoa, it actually worked. Now let's take a look at these attributes."

Examining the window, I notice that Might, Dexterity, and Mental seem to be primary attributes, with the secondaries listed beneath each.

"So this is how I am now? I worked all day in construction, so that's why I have high endurance and strength, but I don't do cardio or eat healthy food, so my vitality's lower."

After analyzing my status for a few seconds, I understand that I'm the tanky type, but when I check on my class, I get confused.

"Builder?" I murmur, puzzled. "Thats why I dressed like this?"

My short black hair is under a yellow hard hat. I am wearing a red plaid flannel shirt with rolled-up sleeves, blue denim overalls. On my waist is a brown leather tool belt filled with tools.

"I look just like my old man back when he was working," I say, the memory of him flickering in my mind. "But now, what kind of powers do I actually have?"

Answering my question, a new window opens.

[Class Dashboard]​

[+] Class Skills

[+] General Skills

[+] System

[+] Quests

[+] Blueprints

[+] Achievements

[+] Blessings

[Class Dashboard]​

My jaw drops at the amount of information.

"A robust system..." I mutter, Krusk's warnings echoing in my head. "And here I was, hoping for something simpler than Dark Souls."

Before I can click anything, a roar echoes from a staircase, coming from the opening under the starry sky.

"HYAA!"

"What the...?"

The guttural sound, a mix of growl and shout, reverberates through the stone walls. My pulse quickens as I track its origin. It's echoing from the narrow passage climbing upward into the dark. Then I remember… Krusk's sister is out there, fighting alone.

[Quest]​

[-] First Steps

Main Objective:
[ ] Save Krusk's sister from her terrible fate.

Bonus Objective:
[ ] Complete the main objective without taking combat damage.

Rewards:
5 Random Blueprints.

Bonus Reward:
1 Random Epic consumable.

[Quest]​

"Epic consumable?" I ask, confused. "Is that like a radioactive pot cake?"

Still not understanding the situation, I ignore the quest for now and dash toward the staircase, my heart pounding.

After a couple of steps running, I notice something.

"I'm not getting tired."

Despite not having done cardio in a while, I feel my body lighter and my stamina better than before.

'Could this be a result of gaining my class? Am I stronger?' I wonder as I reach the opening, facing the starry sky.

I stop at the cave entrance, gazing at the forest stretching out before me.

"Well, shit," I curse, marveling. "I'm not in Florida anymore."

I stand before a sea of towering, ancient trees, their branches weaving a canopy that shimmers with silver moonlight. Ethereal mist coils between the trunks. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth, wild herbs, and something older. It feels like a place torn from the pages of a forgotten fairy tale.

But my contemplation is cut short.

"HYAAARGH!" A roar echoes through the forest, followed by the sound of clashing metal.

The noise is intense, violent. My body reacts before my brain can process, muscles tensing, ready for action.

"Fuck!" I curse, eyes scanning the darkness.

The sound is close, very close. I move forward cautiously, heart still pounding. I step lightly, trying to be quiet, but dry leaves crackle under my feet, each step echoing like thunder in my ears.

"RUUURGH!"

The roar sounds again, now even closer. Between the trees, I glimpse movement.

I move forward, and the trees part to reveal a small clearing. There, two armored figures face off, the clash of metal on metal echoing through the forest.

One of them, a samurai, wears old and damaged armor, her face covered by an ornate helm. This person is the one roaring, each strike accompanied by a guttural scream.

The opponent looks like a medieval knight in heavy armor, wields a sword and shield, moving with deadly precision.

The samurai is visibly exhausted, hands trembling, armor slashed in multiple places. The sword, dented and battered, looks ready to break.

On the other hand, the knight has gleaming, pristine armor, moving with relentless energy, each blow quick and powerful.

"Now which one is Krusk's sister?" I murmur, trying to make sense of the scene.

The knight strikes, the sword slicing through the air with a threatening hiss. The samurai tries to block, but the impact is too strong. The sword flies from her hands, landing several meters away.

Wasting no time, the knight uses the opening to bash with his shield. The samurai's helmet is knocked off, revealing an unexpected green face.

"She is a female Orc," I whisper in surprise.

I'm shocked, breath caught in my throat. Dark green skin, long braided black hair, small tusks protruding from her lower lip, yellow eyes full of determination and exhaustion.

"It can't be… Is that her? Krusk's sister?" I murmur, mind racing until I realize something. "Then again, Krusk does sound like an Orc name."

The knight talks, voice echoing from the closed helmet.

"You couldn't even scratch my armor, filthy creature," he says arrogantly. "Now, fulfill your promise and tell us where the fate crystal is."

Kursk's sister, breathing heavily, spits blood on the ground. With a grunt, she rises, trembling hand reaching for her waist and drawing a secondary weapon, a short sword, probably a wakizashi.

"It's not... over yet."

The determination in her voice is palpable, even with her body marked by cuts and wounds. She wields the wakizashi with both trembling hands, the blade reflecting the moonlight.

"Your stubbornness is the most irritating and admirable trait of your inferior race."

Staring his enemy down, The knight raises his sword. The Orc does not retreat, eyes fixed on her opponent, her stance firm despite the wounds. Determined to fight to the death, she charges with the wakizashi raised. The knight, confident, prepares for the final blow. But something stirs inside me.

Without thinking, I rush forward and grab the Orc's armor collar, pulling her back forcefully.

"Upssies," I say, pulling her.

From a distance, I thought her armor was metal, but upon touching it, I realize it's hardened leather and plates of wood or bamboo.

Surprise and exhaustion prevent the Orc from reacting properly, causing her to fall backward, off balance.

"Tag," I say aloud, looking into her eyes. "Catch your breath for now. It's my turn."

The Orc stares at me, confused and exhausted. The knight, meanwhile, turns to me, sword still raised.

"Who are you?" The voice echoes from the helmet, cold and threatening.

"I'm Dick," I respond without breaking eye contact with his metal face, a big smug smile on my face. " Dick the Builder."

Inside, I was scared, but I forced myself to maintain the bravado with a fake smile so as not to show weakness.

The knight glares at me, sword still raised. His voice echoes from the helmet, filled with disdain.

"Why would a human defend a filthy blood?"

"Filthy blood?" I repeat, confused. "What the fuck is that? Sounds like a Harry Potter slur."

Suddenly, another voice rises from behind the knight.

"His class is Builder, and he's only level 1."

I look beyond the knight and see a group of five soldiers in lighter armor watching the fight.

They stand still, their expressions ranging from curiosity to disdain. The one who shouted is holding a golden monocle while staring at me.

"And he doesn't have any artifact or magical item on him," concludes the soldier, pocketing the monocle.

The knight in heavy armor repeats loudly.

"Level 1?" His tone drips with mockery.

He begins to laugh, the sound echoing through the forest. The laugh is contagious, and the soldiers behind him also start to laugh.

"Even our recruits are at least level 10," says the knight, voice full of contempt. "You're so pathetic I'll offer you a better deal than I gave the Orc."

He explains, voice oozing arrogance.

"If the Orc had defeated me in a duel, my men would not have attacked her and would have left. But if she lost, she would reveal the crystal's location."

The knight pauses, eyes gleaming with malice through the visor in his helmet.

"But you... you're so insignificant I'll offer something even better," he declares, sheathing his sword and spreading his arms. "If you can damage my magical armor, we'll leave you in peace. I swear on my honor that I won't even mention your name in my reports."

"But Captain-." one of the soldiers tries to question his leader.

"And if any of my men disagrees, I'll tear the bastard's tongue out myself," says the captain, silencing the soldier.

The other soldiers murmur behind him, some laughing, others shaking their heads disapprovingly. But the knight keeps his gaze fixed on me, arms still open, awaiting my answer.

Behind me, the Orc samurai, still on the ground, looks at me, eyes full of suspicion and concern. She knows the odds are against me, but she has no other choice.

I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of responsibility.

'I may not be a warrior like these guys,' I think silently, clenching my fists, 'but I've never backed down from a fight in my life.'

"I accept," I say firmly. "But with one condition."

The knight raises an eyebrow, curious.

"And what would that be?"

"Include the Orc samurai in my prize," I explain, pointing at the warrior on the ground. "You'll leave us both in peace and out of your reports."

"Deal," responds the knight in heavy armor.

I approach the knight, examining every detail of the armor. If he weren't beating women or hunting children, I might even compliment aloud the craftsmanship.

"What are you doing?" complains the knight. "Why don't you fight?"

"Because I don't need to fight," I answer without taking my eyes off the armor. "Just do some damage right?"

"Humph!" Grunts the Knight in armor.

Each plate fits perfectly with the next, forming an almost impenetrable defense. The metal shines with a bluish hue, unlike any steel I've ever seen.

"It's Archsteel," says the armored knight. "Something beyond the comprehension and financial reach of a peasant like you."

"Archsteel," I repeat, impressed.

Behind me, the Orc samurai gets up, her voice filled with concern.

"Don't be foolish! Run while you still can!"

I turn to her, a confident smile on my lips.

"Relax. This isn't a fight." I pause, eyes glowing with determination. "This is a job."

She stares at me, jaw dropped, while one of the soldiers watching can't hold back his curiosity.

"What can a Builder do?"

"Build stuff?" adds another soldier, not sure of his guess.

The questions echo through the forest, dripping with disdain, but I'm unfazed. Instead, I crouch and pick up a rock from the ground, feeling its weight in my hand.

"Luckily for me, my favorite part of construction…" I say, looking straight at the soldier, "is destruction."

With that, I turn my attention back to the knight. He's standing still, arms still open, probably with an arrogant smile behind the helmet.

"Let's see what you're made of, Dick the Builder," he taunts in an arrogant tone.

I step even closer, the rock firm in my hand. I examine the armor again, looking for weak points, places where the plates connect.

With all my strength, I slam the rock against the armor.

The impact echoes through the clearing, a sharp, clear sound. But the metal doesn't dent, scratch, or even get dirty. It's as if the rock had struck a force field.

'That's some bullshit magical metal,' I think, whistling, surprised.

The knight laughs, his voice echoing through the helmet, full of triumph.

"You don't stand a chance, Builder." He laughs triumphantly. "Give up already and stop wasting my time."

But I'm not shaken. Instead, I take a step back, examining the armor more closely.

"Chill, bro," I say in a mocking tone. "Or are you afraid of a level 1 Builder?"

Behind them, his men whisper, suspicious of their leader's confidence. The knight snorts, irritated, and shouts:

"Try as many times as you want, peasant! It will only prolong your humiliation."

The soldiers behind him laugh, some shaking their heads in contempt. But I ignore them all, focused solely on the task at hand. I know I need to be more creative, think outside the box.

'What kind of powers did I get with my class?' I think silently as a window opens before me.

[Class Skills]​

[-] The Right Tool for the Job [Active]:

Cost: 1 MP
Minimum You instantly create a tool or device perfectly suited for the builder specification.

- Complex tools cost more MP.

- Lasts until dismissed or the Builder loses consciousness.

- Is non-magical unless the Builder has access to magical crafting.



[-] Steel Backbone [Passive]:

Cost: -

You can carry five times more weight than your Strength stat normally allows.



[-] Construction Crew [Active]:

Cost: 1 MP per minute per worker

Summons a group of humanoid light-construct workers [equal to your Will stat] to help with building, repairing, or even combat. Each worker:

- Shares your knowledge and skills.

- Can act independently, learn, and adapt to the situation.

- Sends all knowledge acquired back to the Builder when dismissed.

- Restriction: In combat, each assistant has only 5% of your stats.

[Class Skills]​

'I can create tools, carry weight, and make work clones…' I think, feeling a tinge of disappointment in my gut.

They're interesting abilities, but nothing I can use against this guy who's protected like a turtle in its shell.

Trying to use the ability 'The Right Tool for the Job', I visualize a hammer in my hand.

[-1 MP]​

After the notice that I spent Mana Points, I feel a pool of energy being drained from within me as a simple hammer appears on my right hand.

I grip the handle and swing it in the air, noticing it's nothing special, just the kind of hammer a dad would have in a small toolbox.

Putting my weight into it, I swing the hammer again, aiming at the same spot on the armor.

The hammer's head explodes on impact, pieces of metal flying in all directions. The knight doesn't even flinch, his laughter echoing through the helmet.

"Give up, peasant." His voice resonates, full of contempt. "You don't stand a chance against me."

I ignore the taunts, focused on the task. If I can't touch him, I have to find another way to hurt him. I close my eyes, concentrating on 'The Right Tool for the Job' ability.

"Can I make a ladder with 'The Right Tool for the Job'?" I murmur thoughtfully.

[-1 MP]​

In response, a gray ladder materializes in front of me.

The knight and his soldiers stare, confused.

Quickly, I grab the knight by the collar of his armor and lift him off the ground. The eyes inside the helmet widening, surprised, but I don't give him a chance to object.

"Want to go back on your word, champ?" I ask, voice firm, muscles straining from the effort. "Will your men find out today that you have no honor?"

The knight gulps, his voice echoing through the helmet.

"Just surprised by your strength of a mule, Builder," he admits, trying to keep composure. "Try any dirty trick you want, my armor and honor won't falter."

"Perfect," I reply with a smile.

I quickly climb the ladder carrying the knight. As I reach the top, the knight speaks again.

"A fall from this height will do as much damage as a raindrop on my mighty armor," he states arrogantly.

The worst part is that he's right. This ladder is a typical one for general construction, about five meters [16 feet] high.

"Can I make it taller?" I murmur to myself.

[-1 MP]​

The ladder glows for a few seconds, reconfiguring itself, adding another five meters [16 feet] for me to keep climbing.

"A-an interesting ability," says the knight, almost stammering. "But still, t-this height is n-no-nothing."

"You're right," I reply, focusing on my ability again without a vocal command.

The ladder glows and reconfigures once more.

"Is it going to get higher?" the knight asks, worried.

[-28 MP]​

"Yeah," I respond, chuckling.

I take long strides up the now one hundred and fifty meter [500 feet] ladder I just created.

"OSHA'd shit their fuckin' pants if they saw a death trap like this," I bark, cackling like a maniac as I haul myself up.

Quickly I reach the top, the wind blowing hard around me. The view from here is breathtaking. The forest stretches below me, the treetops looking tiny, like I could crush them with a single step.

The knight, hanging from my hand, begins to stammer.

"W-wait, Builder!" His voice trembles, the previous arrogance gone. "W-we can call this a tie, right?"

I smile, a wicked grin spreading across my face. I look directly into his eyes, visible through the helmet.

"I don't want to make you a liar," I say, voice firm. "Or worse, a coward."

With that, I let the knight go.

"AAAAAAAAGH!" he screams in desperation, falling to the ground.

I watch the fall, the armor gleaming under the moonlight.

"He screams like a bitch." I chuckle.

A few years ago, I found out on the job when I was bored with the boys at the site that steel objects need to be dropped from at least ten stories high to get any sort of dent.

That's how I got the idea to drop the knight from nearly forty-five stories high.

"Even with your bullshit armor, this is gonna hurt," I mutter, eyeing the falling knight.

His scream is abruptly cut off, the impact against the ground reverberating through the forest, a heavy, dull sound, and a cloud of dust rises from the ground, marking the point of impact.

Several notifications started to pop up on my face, after the impact.

[Quest Completed]

[New Achievement: Creative Carnage]

[New Achievement: Apex Hunter]

[New Achievement: Rising Star]

[Level up!]

[Level up!]

…​

But I ignore them for now.

From the top of the ladder, I observe the scene, a satisfied smile spreading across my face.

"Fuck, man," I murmur, a mischievous grin on my lips. "Did he make a crater?"

But as always in my life, my satisfaction doesn't last long.

The shockwave from the knight's impact spreads, fast and intense. The ladder shakes violently, the vibrations climbing up my legs.

"Shit," I curse under my breath.

My instincts take over. In one swift motion, I grab the side of the ladder with my feet and hands, starting to slide down. The wind whistles in my ears, adrenaline pumping through my veins.

"Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!" I repeat as I slide.

The ladder starts to tip, its already precarious balance completely lost.

"FUCK!" I curse as the ladder starts falling faster, reaching the same speed I would've had if I'd jumped. "I need to act fast."

With a mental command, I dismiss the ladder. The monumental object disappears, leaving me in free fall. The ground rushes up too fast, the forest below a blur of green and brown.

"Twenty meters," I murmur, roughly calculating the remaining distance.

With a desperate thought, I point my hand downward and materialize a debris net, anchoring it to the treetops.

[-7 MP]​

I collide with the net, it stretches to its limit.

"Phwe." I exhale, relieve.

But it snaps.

"SHIT!" I curse, falling.

My body hits the forest floor with a dull thud.

[- 27 HP]​

"Fuuuck!" I groan, in pain, but alive.

I'm saved from a fatal fall, though I still got pretty banged up.

I get up with a groan. My muscles ache, my body protesting the sudden strain. But I'm alive, and that's what matters.

I look around, searching for the samurai Orc. She's standing, staring at the fallen knight in a small crater, her expression unreadable.

"What are you?" she asks, mouth agape.

Shrugging, I reply.

"The hero summoned by Krusk."

The mention of her brother makes the Orc's eyes go wide, but before she can ask for more information, a group of soldiers approaches, shouting.

"Step away from the captain!" one of the soldiers shouts, pointing a spear at me.

I raise my hands and back off, allowing the other four soldiers to approach the fallen knight.

"He's unconscious, but still alive," says one of the soldiers near the fallen knight.

The soldier with the spear relaxes immediately but keeps his weapon pointed at me.

"His armor's dented in several spots on the back," reports another soldier near the captain.

"Just dented?" I whistle, surprised.

The news hits the spear-wielding soldier like a punch to the gut, but he quickly swallows hard and speaks toward me.

"We'll uphold our captain's word and honor," says the soldier in a bitter tone. "You and your Orc whore are free."

"Say what?" She grunts, stepping forward angrily.

But I raise a hand, trying to hold her back.

"They want you to start a fight," I explain, looking at her. "If you attack them, they can defend themselves and arrest you, claiming they upheld their leader's promises."

Her eyes widen as she glares at the soldiers, cursing me for having their intentions exposed.

When the spear soldier notices the captain being carried out of the crater by his comrades, he lowers his weapon, stepping away from me without turning his back. He keeps his eyes fixed on me, suspicion clear on his face.

Two others carry the unconscious knight, their heavy steps echoing through the clearing. A third removes the captain's helmet, revealing pointed ears and elegant features.

"An elf," I murmur, frowning, confused. "Why the fuck is an elf helping humans hunt down other races?"

The Orc samurai approaches, her voice heavy with bitterness.

"Since the Empress's rise to power, Elves and Humans live under the same tyrannical empire, exploiting and massacring other races."

I take a step forward in the soldiers' direction, but before I can question them as they walk away, a blade touches my throat. Looking to the left, I see it's the samurai Orc, glaring at me furiously.

"What happened to my brother?" she asks sharply.

"Oh, come on!" I groan, pissed. "I helped you, don't be an asshole."

---

E ai gurizada!

Thanks for reading the first chapter of "Dick the Builder".

New chapters will be published on a monthly basis exclusively to my Ko-Fi subscribers on ko-fi.com/avipbr. Right now there are two more chapters there.

Your support directly helps me dedicate more time to writing and polishing the series.

---

Below are the main characters from the first book .



Name: Richard (Dick) Bráulio de Melo Pinto Aquino Rego

Race: Human

Class: Builder

Background info: Dick, as he prefers to be called, has spent his entire adult life working in construction alongside his older sister, Barbie, at their father's company.

After their father passed away, Barbara and Dick took over the business. Barbara is the brains of the operation, handling management, while Dick leads the crews on-site.

Name: Uldra

Race: Half-OrcClass: Samurai

Background info: The daughter of a human samurai and an orc barbarian, Ultra followed her father's ways as she forged her path as a warrior.

Although her mother was saddened that Ultra didn't adopt her traditions, she never stopped loving her.

Name: Torna Clanless

Race: Dwarf

Class: Blacksmith

Background info: Torna is a young dwarven blacksmith, she was exiled from her clan for researching forbidden materials and crafting weapons deemed cowardly.

Name: Varkhilda

Race: Boulder-Kin (Valley Giant)
Class: Barbarian

Background info: As the sole survivor of her tribe, Varkhilda is a formidable and imposing warrior, standing a towering 2.8 meters tall(9 feet 2 inches tall).

Name: Tizzy

Race: Green Goblin
Class: Fire Shaman

Background info: Anyone dealing with this… 'peculiar' goblin needs to be careful.

Watch out for bites and fire.

And here are the next chapters:

Chapter 02 : Achievements

Chapter 03 : Rise of the Emperor-Builder