Apocalypse Gachapon

The Mechanical Genius truly wished he could kill Gyanendra ten thousand times over right now.

He knew his own strengths and weaknesses well.

He was eccentric, but not insane.

The power of his mechanical war puppets lay in the fact that they weren’t true living beings. While possessing non-living advantages—like no fear of death, upgradability, and repairability—they also exhibited some traits of living creatures.

For example, their powerful and practical skills, their precise controllability, and so on.

These characteristics combined made these mechanical war puppets incredibly formidable. Even without clear level distinctions, they could contend with the highest-level evolved and their elite teams.

Just like in that previous battle with Cloud Peak.

Honestly, in a head-on fight, the Mechanical Genius feared no one. He loved this straightforward style of combat.

But as Ye Zhongming and Gyanendra had lamented, the Mountain King Wheel’s key challenges weren’t direct confrontations—they were tests of luck and financial strength.

Despite his manic laughter, sudden curses, and unpredictable mood swings, he was acutely aware these were minor issues. He was confident he could compete with Cloud Peak until the final round.

But this one strike of lightning had genuinely halved his confidence.

The mechanical war puppets were powerful, but they had a flaw—they were weak against lightning-based attacks.

It wasn’t that they collapsed at the slightest touch, but compared to other attacks, their resistance to lightning was the lowest.

According to the space’s earlier announcement, if a Bright Star had no Guardian Beast or faction, it would be instantly destroyed.

This didn’t mean the Annihilation Thunderstrike was overwhelmingly powerful—it was just a relative “parameter.” At its core, this wheel trial was a game, and games didn’t require absolute realism.

Even so, having it land on one’s head was utterly terrifying.

Earlier, the Mechanical Genius had moved from Bright Star No. 10 to No. 13, which belonged to Greater America. Before he could choose whether to purchase or pay the toll, the thunder descended.

And it came with misfortune.

Bright Star No. 12 belonged to Cloud Peak, while No. 14 was the Mechanical Genius’s own.

The thunder struck these two stars first. To onlookers, it wasn’t lightning—it was two massive, twisting pillars of light that seemed capable of piercing heaven and earth.

“Annihilation Thunderstrike has struck Bright Star No. 12. Guardian Beast severely injured.”

“Annihilation Thunderstrike has struck Bright Star No. 14. Guardian Beast destroyed. Bright Star annihilated.”

These two stars were under various effects—Difficulty Surge, Commission, etc.—but those only applied to factions landing on them, not the thunder.

The destruction of the stars was vividly displayed on the light screen, sending chills down everyone’s spines.

This was the fate of those who couldn’t withstand the strike—utter obliteration.

The two attacked stars had different outcomes: No. 12 survived, while No. 14 was obliterated. After the initial shock, this made sense.

Cloud Peak’s Guardian Beasts were all max-level, naturally formidable. Surviving the Annihilation Thunderstrike was understandable. As for No. 14, the Mechanical Genius knew his own situation—the Guardian Beast he’d left there was weak and unupgraded, so it fell with the star.

But he had no time to dwell on that now. The thunder above him was about to strike.

The space hadn’t specified how to resist, leaving the Mechanical Genius little time to think.

Instinctively, he dispersed his team and sent a massive mechanical war puppet charging toward the descending lightning.

His logic was simple: if something had to be destroyed, let it be just one.

This puppet was enormous, one of the few giants in his squad, with solid defenses. The Mechanical Genius had some confidence in it—its abilities leaned toward defense, evident from the massive shields on its arms.

The thunder struck the giant dead-on.

Light erupted, blinding all who watched.

The Mechanical Genius let out a bloodcurdling scream.

As the glare faded slightly, another figure was seen leaping into the air, followed by yet another.

The first puppet was struck, and for a brief, almost imperceptible moment, the lightning seemed to pause.

That split second was enough for the Mechanical Genius to react—and for everyone to see clearly.

The mechanical war puppet shattered into fragments under the thunder. The weakened lightning continued downward, met by a second puppet that had vaulted skyward in the interim.

The second collision played out like the first—another flash, another pause—before the third impact arrived.

The Mechanical Genius’s screams continued, and the light screen flickered violently with each strike.

When calm finally returned and the Annihilation Thunderstrike vanished without a trace, the surviving evolved glimpsed one last panoramic “shot” before the screen closed.

The Mechanical Genius’s puppet numbers had plummeted by at least one-fifth.

“Terrifying” was the only word anyone could muster.

One strike of thunder had crippled the mighty Mechanical Genius’s forces.

And such strikes would come every round from now on.

True, the thunder was random—it could hit any point on the Star Path. But what if luck turned against you? Could anyone replicate the Mechanical Genius’s desperate sacrifice to weather the storm?

Recalling what they’d just witnessed, a bitter taste filled everyone’s mouths—and their hatred for Gyanendra deepened.

This bastard had screwed them all!

Creating something like this was practically a death sentence.

Life went on, and the stars had to keep moving. The Mechanical Genius’s turn ended, marking the start of a new round.

Wu Xiu hadn’t felt this tense in a long time. She’d intended to coast, only to be caught in this disaster.

With cautious precision, she struck the crystal, landing on a Bright Star—Greater America’s. They paid to pass, neither fighting nor drawing the thunder.

This was the result of her earlier discussion with Ye Zhongming. Under the current circumstances, apart from targeting the Mechanical Genius’s stars, Cloud Peak no longer needed the Cannibal Chain to clash with other factions.

As for toll fees? Aside from Ye Zhongming, the Cannibal Chain was the richest here.

When Greater America’s turn came, Spade’s face was dark. Their desire to compete for first place had faded drastically. They’d realized something: merely surviving to the end was no longer guaranteed.

This mindset stemmed from the thunder, the misfortune, and the fact that every one of Cloud Peak’s Guardian Beasts was max-level.

Greater America had money now, but what good was it? Paying tolls while passing wouldn’t increase their star count—and without more stars, how could they compete with Cloud Peak and the Mechanical Genius? Keep fighting? Don’t joke—even if Spade wanted to, his subordinates wouldn’t comply.

The downside of Greater America’s alliance-based structure—lack of control—was now glaringly apparent.

They struck the Soaring Crystal, aiming as far as possible.

But as the crystal landed, the space’s announcement rang out. Hearing its contents, Spade felt like he wanted to die.