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- Tower Climber (A LitRPG Adventure, Book 1) 
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    Tower Climber
   Jakob Tanner
   Contents
   Newsletter
   Dedication
   Chapter 1
   Chapter 2
   Chapter 3
   Chapter 4
   Chapter 5
   Chapter 6
   Chapter 7
   Chapter 8
   Chapter 9
   Chapter 10
   Chapter 11
   Chapter 12
   Chapter 13
   Chapter 14
   Chapter 15
   Chapter 16
   Chapter 17
   Chapter 18
   Chapter 19
   Chapter 20
   Chapter 21
   Chapter 22
   Chapter 23
   Chapter 24
   Chapter 25
   Chapter 26
   Chapter 27
   Chapter 28
   Chapter 29
   Chapter 30
   Chapter 31
   Chapter 32
   Chapter 33
   Chapter 34
   Chapter 35
   Chapter 36
   Chapter 37
   Chapter 38
   Chapter 39
   Chapter 40
   Chapter 41
   Chapter 42
   Chapter 43
   Chapter 44
   Chapter 45
   Chapter 46
   Chapter 47
   Chapter 48
   Chapter 49
   Chapter 50
   Chapter 51
   Chapter 52
   Chapter 53
   Chapter 54
   Chapter 55
   Chapter 56
   Chapter 57
   Chapter 58
   Chapter 59
   Chapter 60
   Chapter 61
   Chapter 62
   Chapter 63
   Chapter 64
   Chapter 65
   Chapter 66
   Chapter 67
   Chapter 68
   Chapter 69
   Chapter 70
   Chapter 71
   Chapter 72
   Chapter 73
   Chapter 74
   Chapter 75
   Chapter 76
   Chapter 77
   Chapter 78
   Chapter 79
   Chapter 80
   Chapter 81
   Chapter 82
   Chapter 83
   Chapter 84
   Chapter 85
   Chapter 86
   Chapter 87
   Chapter 88
   Chapter 89
   Chapter 90
   Chapter 91
   Chapter 92
   Chapter 93
   Chapter 94
   Chapter 95
   Chapter 96
   Chapter 97
   Chapter 98
   Chapter 99
   Chapter 100
   Chapter 101
   Chapter 102
   Chapter 103
   Chapter 104
   Chapter 105
   Chapter 106
   Chapter 107
   Chapter 108
   Chapter 109
   FREE EBOOK
   Author’s Note
   A.K.O Book 1 Sample
   The Chosen Reading Group
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   More Places to Hang Out!
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   Newsletter
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   Dedicated:
   To my mom and dad, who have encouraged and supported me in everything that I’ve done.
   Special Thanks to:
   Angela Marshall for assistance in so many things.
   Markus Liik for legal advice.
   Rein Naylor for medical insights.
   Andrew Smith for sage wisdom.
   Thanks to my beta readers and their amazing feedback:
   Ben Graff
   Jo Hoffacker
   Valentine Obasuyi
   Carol Sherman
   Erik Tanner
   This book wouldn’t be what it is today without you guys!
   1
   Max watched the clock as the hour hand struck three. The school bell rang and students pushed their seats out from their desks. Idle chatter surrounded him, but he ignored it all. It was time to leave and he didn’t have a second to waste.
   He lifted his wrists off the armrests of his wheelchair and slowly moved himself out from his desk. Even the simple gesture of rolling his wheels to move backwards was enough to make him wince with pain.
   The other students in the classroom paid no attention to him. Some were gossiping in the corner, while others were enquiring about extra credit assignments with the teacher.
   Max was grateful for their lack of concern. As a person with a disability, people generally only interacted with him in one of two ways: he was either willfully ignored or pitied. He’d take being invisible over pitied any day of the week.
   Max exited into the hall. He looked cautiously up and down the corridor. It was flooded with students, gathering their stuff and hanging out by the lockers. He saw no sign of Seth and his pals.
   Maybe today’s my lucky day, he thought.
   Max’s own locker was only around the corner, but he knew to take the long way round.
   He pushed himself forward, rolling the wheels of his chair. He winced with every push. The bruises on his arm ached every time he moved them.
   He turned the corner into a near empty hall, when a voice snarled behind him.
   “Where do you think you’re going?”
   Max shuddered.
   It was Seth.
   “Where you going Maxie-pad? Your locker is the other way.”
   The other students in the hall quickly gathered their stuff. They knew just as much as Max did: Seth was trouble.
   He had been suspended more times than anyone else in the history of the school and the only reason he wasn’t expelled was because his dad worked for the mayor’s office.
   Even still, some of the nearby students hesitated. They didn’t want to pick a fight with Seth, but it was clear on their faces that they thought bullying a kid in a wheelchair was perhaps a step too far.
   “Don’t worry about me,” said Max, mustering a smile for the nearby students. “You can leave. It’s all fine here.”
   They weren’t going to be able to help him, Max figured, so he’d rather them walk away scot-free than let them get a target on their back like he had.
   The students nodded and hurried away.
   Max still hadn’t even turned around to face Seth.
   Maybe if I ignore him, he’ll leave me alone, Max thought.
   He pushed himself forward down the hall.
   Two shadows emerged. Two of Seth’s goons stepped into the hall at the other end.
   “What? You thought you could just ignore me, Max? Run away? Oh that’s right—you can’t, can you?”
   Seth’s goons snickered at the dumb joke.
   Max looked around the hall. There wasn’t a teacher in sight. Even if there was—they’d be no help to him. They’d ignore them, not wanting to get in trouble with a powerful man like Seth’s father.
   Max took a second to assess the situation. He knew the best form of self-defense for a wheelchair user was to get the heck out of there. To not fight at all.
   Escape was no longer an option though.
   He’d try negotiation.
   Max spun around on his wheelchair to face Seth.
   The tall boy stood with his arms crossed and a patronizing smirk stretched across his face.
   “What do you want?” said Max, keeping his voice calm.
  
; “What do I want?” snickered Seth, taking a step towards him. “What—are you some kind of hostage negotiator now, Max?”
   The boy took another step towards him, the clap of his shoes echoing across the hall.
   “You know exactly what I want,” snarled the boy. “I want to see you cry and whimper on the ground like the little bitch that you are.”
   “Tell him, Seth,” said the goons behind Max.
   He could tell by their voices that they were coming towards him now as well.
   Negotiation was out the window then.
   With all his strength, he angled and swerved his wheelchair to maneuver around Seth, but the boy just jumped in front of him.
   “There’s no getting away from your daily treatment,” snickered Seth. “Maybe it will help you walk again.”
   The boy grabbed Max by his shaggy red hair and yanked him off of his wheelchair and threw his body to the ground.
   They kicked him and stomped on him as he lay there helplessly on the ground.
   “Take your treatment,” they laughed.
   Max closed his tear-strewn eyes and let the beating take over.
   They wouldn’t stop until they thought he couldn’t take any more. The best thing he could do now was let them have their sick sadistic fun and hopefully it would all be over a little bit sooner.
   Then something different happened.
   The kicks stopped.
   A hand caressed his leg, slipping inside the right pocket of his jeans.
   They’d never done this before. What were they doing?
   The hand pulled out Max’s wallet.
   “We’ll be taking this as a souvenir,” said Seth.
   Max’s shoulders straightened at those words. He was no longer passively taking the beating, but very much alert.
   They can’t take my wallet, he thought.
   Elle’s note is in there.
   The bullies walked away, leaving Max on the floor with his aching bruised body and tears.
   “Should we go shoot some pool?” said one of the goons.
   “Maybe the arcade?”
   Their malicious beating of Max from mere seconds ago was already a far away memory to them.
   “Agh—what the—”
   Max clutched onto Seth’s leg and dug his nails into his calf.
   “Give...me...my...wallet...back...” said Max.
   Max had dragged his pained body across the hall to catch up with Seth and his gang. He wouldn’t let go until he got his wallet back. Until he made sure his letter from Elle was safe and secure.
   “Ugh,” said Seth, repulsed, trying to shake Max off his leg. “What are you doing? Get off me you psycho cripple!”
   Max didn’t let go.
   “GIVE ME MY WALLET BACK!”
   Seth looked down at the boy with drool and blood leaking out of his mouth. He pulled the wallet out of his own pocket, drained it of the few measly bucks that were in there, and then tossed it down the hall.
   “There you go, psycho cripple,” said Seth. “It’s all yours.”
   Max let go of Seth’s leg, only for the boy to give him another walloping kick to the gut. Pain coursed through his whole body.
   “Next time,” said Seth. “Stay down.”
   The bullies walked away.
   Max slowly dragged himself across the empty school hallway.
   He pulled himself towards his black leather wallet on the ground and clasped it with relief.
   The late afternoon sun shone through a nearby window. The city and its skyscrapers stood stoic and apathetic to the life that swirled around them. So too did the tower at the center of the city, shooting out beyond the clouds and as far as the eye could see.
   The tower.
   How was it possible that something so wondrous existed within a world full of such cruelty?
   Max opened up his wallet and pulled out a piece of worn parchment paper.
   He looked over the words. The penmanship. The flourish of each letter.
   This note—which he had mysteriously received a year ago—was the only thing in his life that gave him hope.
   He read the words once more.
   Max,
   Don’t forget your promise. Find me in the tower.
   Elle
   2
   Max had already gotten back on his wheelchair and was wiping the blood off his face, when Sarah rushed into the hallway.
   The girl had black hair that she kept in a long braided ponytail and large rimless glasses.
   “Max!” she cried. “What happened? I was waiting at our meeting spot?”
   Sarah and Max lived together at the same group home for orphans and so walked home together every day after school.
   The girl was fourteen, two years younger than Max. She would have been his sister’s age if she was still around.
   Max appreciated Sarah’s kindness towards him, but he knew that her association with him was causing her trouble within the social circles of her year. For someone kind like Sarah to suffer because of him was the last thing he wanted. So he devised the meeting spot: a corner a few blocks from the school where they’d meet after school, away from the prying eyes of the rest of the student body.
   “I got held up,” said Max.
   Sarah’s eyes watered. “Seth again?”
   “It’s no big deal,” he said.
   He lifted his arms to roll himself forward. A sharp pain ached across his whole body. Max grimaced from the hurting bruises all over his body.
   “Here let me get that,” said Sarah, going around him and taking the handles behind Max’s wheelchair to push him forward. “And before you protest, all the other students have gone home now. So you can’t worry about me.”
   She beamed a smile down towards him and Max craned his neck back with a groan.
   “Fine,” said Max. “You win today, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to make this a regular thing.”
   “You realize your wheelchair has these handles for a reason, right?”
   “A design flaw, if you ask me,” Max joked as they left the school.
   It was a sunny day, so they took the long way home along the canal.
   The city of Zestiris lay before them: the tall skyscrapers, the giant wall that separated the outer-rim and the tower-zone, and, of course, the always looming mysterious tower at the center of it all.
   “I just don’t understand why you chased after them,” said Sarah after Max had relayed the whole story of the incident with Seth. “Like, you didn’t have that much money on you. You don’t have a credit card or something hard to replace. Would it have been so bad to lose your wallet, save yourself from that final blow to the stomach?”
   Sarah had a point. It had been stupid to fight back, but then he thought of Elle’s note. It was the only thing that connected the two of them. The only proof of her existence.
   Until that note had randomly appeared in his locker twelve months earlier, Max had assumed his sister had died in the same car crash from ten years ago that had killed his parents and left him with two immobile legs.
   “I couldn’t leave Elle’s note behind,” said Max.
   “Oh,” said Sarah.
   Sarah’s realization hung between them, anchoring the conversation into silence.
   She was the only one Max had ever told about the note. The only person he remotely trusted out of everyone he knew. Even still, he could tell Sarah struggled to believe him. She wanted to believe him, but she struggled to.
   “I know you don’t want to hear this,” she said. “But how do you know that note wasn’t a prank?”
   “I don’t,” said Max, staring at the looming tower beyond the wall. “But here are the facts. Our lockers don’t have any slits in them. So the only way someone could sneak a note into one of them was if they had my lock combination—which, as far as I know, nobody does—or they snuck it in when I had it opened, but surely I would’ve noticed in that case?”
   “So how did it end up there then?” asked Sarah. “Magic?”
   “Why is it so 
hard to believe a note magically appeared in my locker,” said Max. “When every day we’re confronted by a freaking tower that appeared out of nowhere?”
   This was the curious and frustrating question that every citizen of Zestiris who lived in the outer-rim had to confront day after day. How did one go about their daily life—full of all of its mundane activities—while unexplainable magic loomed over them and stared them right in the face in the form of a tower that had appeared out of thin air?
   

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