Apocalypse Gachapon

Boom!

Not from the promised attack, but from the novices erupting into chaos.

Some stood frozen in confusion; others bolted for their tents. A few clustered around hulking lifeforms for protection, while several transformed instantly into combat states—energy auras flaring, wings unfurling as those dragon-like creatures shot skyward.

“What do we do?” Jie Kui asked, brow furrowed.

Shi Kangbo and Bu Lanuo exchanged glances but didn’t move. Their original plan had been to split off immediately once the battle began, but the new rules gave them pause. Maybe sticking together was the smarter play?

Their ocular recorders—embedded like contact lenses—flashed with updates, most prominently a bounty list of mutant lifeforms and parasites.

“Survive this, and tomorrow’s real battle begins.” With that, Zizikaba flew off.

Simultaneously, the camp gates burst open. Sections of the metal walls even collapsed, unleashing a flood of dark silhouettes. Novices near the breaches were instantly swarmed.

“Black Tapirs! It’s Black Tapirs!”

“Parasite Bica-17… Segment-Swine Beasts?”

“Underground! Something’s—”

“Veizi Clan! Above you, intercept them!”

“#%&@*$!!”

Initial shouts in Shadowtongue devolved into panicked native languages.

Ye Zhongming ignored Jie Kui, scanning the invading horde until—seconds later—he locked onto a target. “Move!” he growled, charging forward.

Jie Kui hesitated, then followed. Shi Kangbo and Bu Lanuo lagged further behind, faces dark with resentment at Ye Zhongming’s unilateral decision.

The Cloud Peak King’s target was a modest-sized parasite documented in Star-Eye archives: a Spined Skull Crawler, classified as Canis-Alpha Parasite #7.

The spacefaring factions named each Slave Race discovered, their parasites cataloged numerically. Duplicates defaulted to the earliest designation.

Spined Skull Crawlers were among the few parasites without physical advantages. Their threat lay in numbers—swarms of needle-toothed horrors that left barren wasteland in their wake.

This staged assault wouldn’t unleash full swarms, however.

Ye Zhongming zeroed in on several scattered crawlers. His newest Morphing Weapon flashed as he hurled it—spear form, slicing through the chaos to impale one creature. A non-fatal hit; the parasite shrieked until Ye Zhongming closed in, crushing its vulnerable mandible with one punch.

The other Star-Eye warriors watched unimpressed. Spined Skull Crawlers posed no threat to level nine beings. They frowned as Ye Zhongming lingered over the corpse, baffled by his inaction—until he abruptly moved again.

His path meandered erratically—pausing at random corpses to scavenge scraps. Other novices sneered at the behavior.

Trash picking? The Star-Eye Clan really are paupers…

Bu Lanuo’s patience snapped. After a terse exchange with Shi Kangbo, both stalked off, leaving Ye Zhongming with Jie Kui.

“You’re staying?” Ye Zhongming finally paused in a relatively quiet corner, eyeing his sole remaining companion.

Jie Kui smirked. “I thought Bu Lanuo and Shi Kangbo were smart. Turns out they’ve got no clue what you’re doing.”

“Oh? Enlighten me.” Ye Zhongming kept scanning their surroundings even as he engaged.

“You’re avoiding combat—expertly finding gaps. Not once have you been pinned down. Why? Because kills here don’t earn points.”

Ye Zhongming nodded, approving both the analysis and Jie Kui’s perceptiveness—likely honed, like his own, through unaffiliated survival rather than clan spoon-feeding.

“Also, these materials you’re collecting might be low-value, but they’re not useless. You’re a craftsman, right? Premium materials exist, but securing them solo is tough, and fighting over corpses risks conflict.”

Faced with such an astute ally, Ye Zhongming had no complaints.

“One more thing: observing others’ combat styles. Whether they become enemies or allies in the next twenty-one days, intelligence is never wasted.”

Jie Kui nodded vigorously—this, he felt, was the most crucial point.

Thus, two figures weaved through the chaos—dodging fights, scavenging discreetly, mastering the art of strategic loafing.

Outside the camp stood a building as crude as the city—but inside, cutting-edge tech hummed.

A massive light screen displayed the camp’s carnage in real-time, logging each kill with precision.

Several figures observed, occasionally commenting.

“The Remnant Clan, Enzheng Stellarites, Luoshi Flameborn… The strong grow stronger.”

Murmurs of agreement. Those factions’ warriors were dominating.

“Where there’s strong, there’s weak. Several anticipated clans are underperforming.”

“Can’t be helped. If every batch excelled, where’s the challenge?”

Chuckles all around.

“Wait—these two? Star-Eye novices by the garb.”

The screen replayed Ye Zhongming and Jie Kui’s maneuvers.

“Clever, but lacking valor,” Zizikaba judged. The others nodded, already losing interest.

“Clear the field in ten. Open official shops. Rank kills: top five get ten points each; next ten, five; remaining top hundred, one point.”