Apocalypse Gachapon

Beneath West City’s walls, a play of light and shadow unfolded.

This was the aftermath of a silent battle.

The gray necrotic orbs collided with the energy net, creating a scene that chilled the blood. Like unstable currents clashing without sound, they alternated between blinding radiance and abyssal darkness.

Hovering midair, the struggle appeared deceptively calm—yet everyone knew a life-and-death contest raged within.

After consuming recovery potions, Liang Chuyin and her team regained some strength, watching intently.

The energy net was their ultimate attack—Sighing Net—activated through their Team Book.

Though inferior to the Female Guard’s higher-tier version, their Team Book granted formidable bonuses: enhanced weapon potency when fighting near allies, damage distribution, and most crucially, access to this devastating technique.

As Liang Chuyin and her squad’s levels rose, the Sighing Net’s power grew terrifying. At full strength, even Yangos would evade its grasp, while a level-nine Ye Zhongming would need serious effort to counter it.

After all, this was the combined strike of dozens of high-level evolved.

Cloud Peak hadn’t marched blindly into this siege. Their intelligence on the Holy City—its defenses, population, surroundings—would shock its residents if laid bare.

While combat began tonight, Cloud Peak’s strategists had started this war long ago.

Though they might not have anticipated these necrotic orbs specifically, they’d prepared contingencies for every direction.

The lightshow ceased. Under countless Cloud Peak gazes, the energy net dissipated.

Yet the necrotic orbs remained.

They resumed their advance.

“Dammit!” Liang Chuxi spat, uncouth but furious, raising her whip to charge—only for the shield-bearing troops to intercept first.

They were the second form of insurance.

These burly warriors—all close-combat specialists—wore Cloud Peak’s sturdiest mass-produced armor and tower shields capable of weathering any storm.

Defenders. Every core team had them. These were all Liang Chuyin and Guang Yao could muster.

With battlecries, they interposed themselves as the orbs accelerated downward.

“Ugh—”

Upon contact, radiant auras flared around several defenders—proof their protection relied on skills, not just gear.

Yet the light vanished instantly. Grunts escaped clenched jaws before bodies thudded to earth.

For Cloud Peak’s iron-willed defenders to vocalize pain? The agony must be excruciating.

As men fell, others immediately filled their positions, meeting the orbs head-on.

A relentless cycle of collapse and reinforcement played out.

Watching, Liang Chuyin and Guang Yao felt their vision blur with rage, rushing forward. Dozens already lay motionless—a dire sign.

Perhaps agitated by the net, the orbs turned frenzied, tearing through defensive lines.

By the time reinforcements arrived, the orbs had shrunk noticeably—their only consolation.

“RAAAAH!”

Several colossal figures erupted from the ranks, shield-charging the now head-sized orbs.

Squad leaders. All level-seven evolved. All true defensive professionals.

Silence.

The orbs vanished.

Left behind: over a hundred motionless Cloud Peak warriors.

“They…”

Kneeling, Guang Yao’s voice cracked.

The fallen bore ashen, withered faces—youthful vigor replaced by necrotic decay. No life remained.

Not drained—infected.

A sight Cloud Peak knew well. The Netherbone Dragonfish’s victims died in identical circumstances.

One Holy City counterattack. One hundred losses. The weight threatened to shatter Liang Chuyin and Guang Yao’s composure.

Elite forces came with this price: every life was precious. Every loss was unacceptable.

“Request West City as primary assault vector!”

Fury burned, but Guang Yao’s mind stayed icy. He reiterated his plea through the Battle Contribution Badge.

“I second!” Liang Chuxi echoed.

After seconds of silence, Ye Zhongming’s approval came.

To Holy City’s defenders, West City’s ferocious battle might seem the main event. Yet until now, Cloud Peak had viewed all four gates equally.

Arrogant? Perhaps. But facts were facts.

With the king’s unconditional assent, the battlefield transformed. Three previously inconspicuous Netherbone Demon Platforms hummed to life, disgorging War Fortresses, followed by V3 rocket teams and gene-modified troops.

“The boss says we’re yours to command.”

A cold voice addressed Guang Yao. None minded its tone—least of all him.

This was no ordinary researcher. A mental powerhouse surpassing Park Xiuying, second only to Ye Zhongming himself.

Commander of Cloud Peak’s gene forces. His brain—a surgically altered “conducting baton” courtesy of Liu Zhenghong.

With gene troops’ expanding numbers and… quirks, conventional leadership proved impossible. The solution? Specialized commanders.

It demanded sacrifice. Becoming half-gene-life hybrids carried irreversible consequences.

This man had willingly paid that price.

Respect followed him like a shadow.

“I need the walls distracted,” Guang Yao stated.

The gene commander nodded. “Perhaps… I can breach the gates, too.”