I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

Chapter 87: Do it for the Chickens

The study was quiet save for the low hiss of candles and the scratch of Jack’s quill. The air smelled of wax and parchment, of ink that had sat too long under lamplight.

Before him floated the golden shimmer of the Reputation Store.

Jack leaned forward, the weight of decision in his chest. ’All right,’ he told the System. ’Let’s make this count.’

One by one, he highlighted the choices.

[High-Capacity Grain Storage 15,000 ReputationPoints]

[Roads 24,000 ReputationPoints]

[Public Bathhouse 26,000 ReputationPoints]

[Water Pump 9,500 Reputation Points]

[Total: 74,500 Reputation Points deducted]

[Remaining Balance: 66,644 ReputationPoints]

The Store pulsed once, as if stamping its approval. Then golden light spilled across the desk.

Sheets of parchment manifested from the air, rolling themselves open with a crisp snap. They hovered for a moment, then settled in a careful fan across the desk.

Jack blinked, his heart began beating a little faster.

The grain storage blueprint showed towering silos, cylinders of stone and reinforced timber sealed by magic. Marginalia explained how controlled ventilation would keep grain fresh for seasons instead of months.

Jack glanced over the other blueprints. Noting what caught his eye and how he could help his people.

[Congratulations. You have officially invented ”public infrastructure.” Your peasants may now live longer than their chickens.]

Jack froze, staring at the glowing diagrams. ’Really? Chickens?’

[Chickens will also benefit.]

He pinched the bridge of his nose, then smirked. ’Fine. I’ll do it for the chickens. Egg prices back home were stupid high anyway.’

[Motivational reason for helping your people. Save the chickens.]

Jack groaned, dragging a hand down his face. The parchment shimmered under his palm, soft and warm like fresh-baked bread.

---

He studied the maps until the hour grew late, candle wax pooling thick across the desk. His gaze kept drifting outside towards the slums.

Jack leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. The slums had been abandoned since the factory’s housing opened. The hovels stood empty, beams sagging, shutters hanging like broken teeth. Once, disease clung to those alleys like mold. Now the people had moved on, leaving only rot.

’There,’ Jack thought. He looked down again at the bathhouse blueprint, at the waterworks sketched in perfect strokes. ’We’ll tear it down. Tear it down to the ground. Raise something new in its place. A bathhouse at the heart. The water system beneath it..’

He imagined the contrast: cracked wood and filth gone, replaced by white stone, steam curling from wide doors, children racing down clean streets. The ruin of yesterday turned into the pride of tomorrow.

The decision was not hard to make.

--

Night was thinning, dawn had not yet risen. The river fog pressed against the walls in pale sheets. Torches sputtered with low flames.

Jack stood in the corridor outside Seraphina’s chambers, a roll of blueprints tucked under his arm. He knocked once, softly.

The door opened almost at once. She was awake, already dressed in blue with her hair tied back. Her eyes widened a fraction at the sight of him.

”My lord?”

Jack handed her the plans. ”Take these to my father. Tell him I want men assembled before the sun clears the horizon. Masons, carpenters, diggers, anyone with strong backs. We’re rebuilding the slums. This is my world to reshape.”

She unrolled one edge, scanning the impossible precision of the diagrams. Her breath caught in her throat. It was faint, but enough that Jack saw it. For a heartbeat her careful calm faltered, replaced by awe.

”As you command,” she whispered, bowing low.

Jack’s voice was firm. ”Before breakfast.”

”Yes, my lord.”

She gathered the plans, hugging them to her chest as though she carried relics, then vanished down the hall. Her steps faded into the hush of dawn, leaving Jack alone with the echo of what he’d set in motion.

--

Seraphina’s footsteps echoed through the stone corridors as she made her way to Duke Alaric’s study. The blueprints felt warm against her chest, as if they carried some residual magic from their creation.

She had served the Kaiser family for years, but she had never seen anything like what Jack had shown her!

The duke’s study door stood slightly ajar, lamplight spilling into the hallway. She knocked twice, then entered when his voice allowed her to.

”My Grace,” she said, bowing low. ”Young Lord Jack sends these plans with urgent instructions.”

Alaric looked up from his correspondence, his golden eyes sharp despite the early hour. ”Plans?”

Seraphina spread the blueprints across his massive oak desk. ”He wishes to rebuild the slums entirely, my lord. Before breakfast, he said. Masons, carpenters, anyone with strong backs.”

Alaric’s expression shifted from mild curiosity to stunned recognition as he examined the diagrams.

His fingers traced the detailed engineering, the mathematical calculations that filled the margins, the impossible precision of every line.

”This is a massive plan.”

He looked up at Seraphina, his face grave. ”Send word to Master Builder Cross . Tell him to gather his crew immediately. And send runners to the mason’s guild, the carpenter’s hall, and the day laborers’ quarter. Jack wants his project started today, and if I know my son, everyone will be shocked..”

”At once, my lord.”

As Seraphina departed on her mission, Alaric continued studying the plans, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His son was thinking like a true ruler at last.

--

First Lieutenant Talon led his patrol of six men down the muddy path toward the river, their boots squelching with each step. The morning mist hung thick between the trees, making visibility poor and nerves high.

”Anything?” Marcus called quietly to his scout.

”Tracks, sir. Something big came through here recently. Claws like daggers in the mud.”

Talon motioned for weapons ready. They advanced carefully, checking behind every boulder and fallen log. The river gurgled ahead, peaceful and inviting, but experience had taught them that water sources often attracted dangerous creatures.

”There,” whispered another guard, pointing to a massive pawprint near the water’s edge. ”It’s still wet around the edges.”

”Mark it on the map,” Marcus ordered. ”We’ll need to post sentries here during construction. Whatever made those tracks, we don’t want it interrupting the young master’s water project.”

The patrol completed their sweep without incident, but the evidence was clear. The path to the river would need to be secured before work could begin.

---

The training yard was loud despite the early morning.

Torches still guttered along the walls, but the eastern sky glowed faint orange.

Guards sparred with wooden swords, their shouts sharp, their movements crisp. Adrian stood like an iron post at the center, arms crossed, eyes cutting over each stance.

He barked once to make a correction and the clatter of wood answered in response.

Jack shrugged off his cloak and strode onto the sand. The yard stilled briefly. Adrian arched one brow, then gestured toward the rack of practice blades.

Jack selected one, spinning it in his palm. The weight was familiar, too familiar. He squared his shoulders, stepped forward, and slammed into the drills.

He slammed the blade into the dummy’s side, his breath heaving.

’If I’m building something worth protecting, I’ll need more than myself to protect it.’

[Observation: You are finally considering not dying in the first five minutes of an ambush. Progress.]

Jack grinned, teeth bared. He struck again, wood cracking under the force. ’I’ll need people who answer to me, not to my father.’

[You’ll need people willing to die first. Preferably trained ones.]

’Then I’ll find them.’

The words sat like iron. He shifted into a sparring stance, driving himself harder and faster.

A guard stepped in, meeting his blows. Jack welcomed the challenge. Adrian’s bark cut through: ”Faster! He’s not your lord here, he’s your opponent!”

The guard pressed harder. Jack slipped, recovered, countered with a strike that knocked the man sprawling. Adrian’s eyes flicked approval, just for a heartbeat, before narrowing again. ”Again.”

They went until the sun began to set, until Jack’s arms burned, until his breath rasped like iron dragged over stone. He dismissed the men with a nod, sweat dripping into the sand.

---

He leaned on the rail, towel draped over his shoulders, watching the yard return to rhythm. His chest still heaved, but his mind was sharper than wider.

These were good men, Jack realized. Professional soldiers who took pride in their craft and served his family with genuine loyalty.

But they served the Kaiser name, the ducal authority that his father represented. If something happened to Alaric, if political winds shifted or enemies moved with sufficient force, where would their loyalty ultimately lie?

The thought settled like a blade being sheathed.

Then the glow came at the edge of his vision.

[Notification: A Notable Citizen has entered Sorne.]

[Population Increased: +4 Citizens.]

[Current Total: 4,121.]

Jack froze, towel still in hand. The words hung in the air as he smiled wide.