Apocalypse Gachapon

The team marched across the vast icy plains. The wind and snow no longer intimidated the warriors of Cloud Peak, but traces of disbelief—and a hint of fear—still lingered on their faces even after a full day.

The level nine lifeform that had nearly killed their leader and Xia Bai was now part of their convoy.

Not as an honored guest, but as a prisoner.

Yes, that bizarre level nine entity that had left Ye Zhongming helpless and forced him to rebirth was now at the center of the procession… being tormented—not by a person, but by Ball Ball.

Even now, recalling yesterday’s events, Ye Zhongming found it surreal.

At the time, Ball Ball had spat on the level nine creature’s demon crystal. The overwhelmingly powerful white filaments acted as if they’d encountered their natural predator, frantically wiping the crystal clean for some inexplicable reason.

After a comically stern scolding—which, to Ye Zhongming, sounded like a series of rhythmic “Ooos”—Ball Ball hopped onto the filaments’ “head,” its tentacles forcefully batting them aside before spitting on the crystal again.

The filaments convulsed violently, nearly collapsing the cave.

But Ball Ball wasn’t done. It jumped over, pried the filaments open, and spat a third time. Then a fourth. A fifth…

By the end, the filaments lay limp like discarded threads, barely alive, dragged out of the cave by Ball Ball as if it were nothing.

Now, the filaments were still alive—Ye Zhongming could confirm that much. But if not for the occasional tremors when Ball Ball nibbled on them like snacks, no one would believe they hadn’t already died.

The more Ye Zhongming thought about it, the more baffled he became.

Just what kind of creature is Ball Ball?

Why was such a formidable filament lifeform so utterly suppressed by it?

Glancing at the level nine entity being treated as a chew toy—already missing an entire filament after a day—Ye Zhongming almost pitied it.

This must be what “a fate worse than death” feels like.

If the filaments had independent thought, would they see this as karma? When they’d bound Talking Lady in that cave, they’d never imagined they’d one day be imprisoned and eaten alive.

“Boss, Talking Lady still hasn’t woken up. Even the black cat, which was conscious earlier, has now fallen into a deep sleep.”

After the filaments’ inexplicable defeat yesterday, Talking Lady and the black cat were freed—but Talking Lady remained comatose. Cloud Peak had no experience treating mutated lifeforms in this state, and though the black cat had been awake, it was equally clueless.

Now, even the cat had succumbed to sleep. Ye Zhongming couldn’t help but wonder:

Were they resuming their evolution to level nine?

But their evolutionary energy should’ve been drained by the filaments. Could they still advance?

Ye Zhongming had long suspected his understanding of mutated lifeforms was lacking.

Why had the Death King Tree slept endlessly during its evolution? Perhaps due to its desire for a human form, but the duration was excessive.

Why had Red Hair encountered so many bizarre opportunities? Was she even human anymore?

And Ball Ball and the filaments—were they natural enemies? Yet they shouldn’t even share the same dimension.

Why had the filaments shown no signs of weakness during evolution, denying him a chance to rescue Talking Lady?

All these unanswered questions left Ye Zhongming both puzzled and vaguely comprehending of Talking Lady and the black cat’s current state.

He didn’t know what would become of them. They might evolve successfully in a short time, instantly becoming two level nine beings—undoubtedly topping the mutated lifeform rankings in China.

Returning them to Cloud Peak was risky. Ye Zhongming couldn’t guarantee their attitude post-evolution. He wasn’t naïve enough to think Talking Lady would remain forever grateful for his “rescue.”

If they remained friendly, it would be ideal—two level nine allies would solidify Cloud Peak’s unshakable dominance.

But if not…

Ye Zhongming refused to leave such volatile elements at the base in his absence. He’d rather keep them close and adapt as needed.

If they were merely recovering and would awaken as level eight beings, no problem.

But if they were evolving to level nine…

A different thought flickered in Ye Zhongming’s mind.

……………………

The Bering Strait—a narrow stretch of water separating two continents.

“Narrow” was relative; it spanned dozens of kilometers, its frigid waters barely above freezing even in summer.

In peacetime, crossing it unaided was nearly impossible for humans.

Now, on the Asian side, several factions had converged, their mutual hostility palpable.

When Ye Zhongming arrived, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.

It wasn’t that the strait was unnavigable elsewhere—but this spot, where a bridge once stood, remained the optimal crossing point, even with the ice-covered ruins.

Surveying the four factions maintaining a deliberate one-kilometer buffer, Ye Zhongming smirked.

He recognized over half of them.

The most conspicuous, occupying prime position, was Jyanendra. The Saint of Sacred City’s presence didn’t surprise Ye Zhongming. It’d be stranger if he didn’t compete for the Mountain King Crown. Clearly, his forces had grown significantly, evidenced by their numbers and unfamiliar equipment.