Apocalypse Gachapon

At first, no one in the room spoke, and Ye Zhongming waited quietly for them to begin.

Seeing their solemn expressions, Ye Zhongming grew increasingly certain that this matter was of grave importance.

Li Daqian and Deacon Water were more familiar with Ye Zhongming than the others. After exchanging glances, the former cleared his throat and spoke slowly:

“Zhongming, while you were away competing for the Mountain King Wheel… something happened.”

Ye Zhongming raised an eyebrow and nodded, signaling Li Daqian to continue.

The leader of Thousand Beast Villa took a sip of the drink on the table, feeling a surge of warmth rise from within—undoubtedly one of Cloud Peak’s special concoctions.

“Have you noticed? The spokesperson system has stopped functioning simultaneously. All of us—every spokesperson chosen by the extraterrestrial races—have lost contact with the skies.”

Ye Zhongming hadn’t realized this yet. In his heart, he had always rejected forming alliances with any of the alien races. His involvement had been limited to completing their missions and exchanging points for resources.

He had assumed there were simply no new missions lately—it hadn’t occurred to him that all communication had been severed.

“The reason?”

If everything had been normal, this wouldn’t have happened. Since they had come to him, they must have uncovered some information.

“At first, we didn’t know either.”

Deacon Water was the one who answered. “We also thought it might just be a temporary halt in missions. But you know, every spokesperson’s relationship with their celestial patrons is different. Some factions have ways to reach out actively.”

“Like us, Five Ring Money.” Deacon Ouyang sighed.

Among those present, he was the oldest and the first to realize something was wrong.

“Many mercenary groups owe their growth to the support of the extraterrestrials. Over time, they develop a dependence. When contact was lost, they desperately searched for answers.”

Throughout the room, only one person spoke at a time while the others listened intently.

“Since you weren’t here, after Deacon Ouyang realized something was amiss, he informed us. It took some time, but we confirmed it—everyone had lost contact.”

Commander Mu puffed on his pipe; Cloud Peak produced the tobacco inside. Nowadays, Puxing Town wasn’t just a trading hub—it housed many of Cloud Peak’s factories, including those producing luxury goods like alcohol and tobacco, which held little strategic value.

“So we searched for the cause. By sheer luck, after gathering intelligence and reaching out to other factions, we pieced together a conclusion.”

Wang Hanran, the enigmatic leader of Cannibal Chain, had an unremarkable appearance. Rumors claimed he wore many faces, and no one knew if this was his true visage.

“This item—does Leader Ye possess it?”

With a flick of his wrist, Wang Hanran placed an object on the table before Ye Zhongming.

The King of Cloud Peak’s pupils contracted. He nodded.

It was that thing—the eerie, inexplicable admission ticket.

“When the extraterrestrials severed contact, no one noticed. It was silent, without warning. That’s abnormal. There must be a reason. After realizing it, we suspected something had slipped our attention—something tied to this event. Eventually, we sat down, discussed, and recalled everything. And we discovered… most spokespeople—”

Deacon Tong’s voice remained soft, but his expression was unprecedentedly serious.

“—and by ‘most,’ I mean those with long-standing or close ties to their celestial patrons—had received an admission ticket, either as a mission reward or a direct gift.”

Ye Zhongming’s face remained impassive, but inside, fury simmered.

His admission ticket had been stolen.

In other words, the Taros Red Dwarves had never given him one.

Ye Zhongming admitted his relationship with his alien race was strained, but Cloud Peak had completed every mission they issued. By all logic, if every faction received one, why exclude him?

Yet they had.

“At first, no one knew what it was. We investigated, even reaching out internationally. Fortunately, a merchant convoy returning from Southeast Asia brought back crucial information.”

“About these admission tickets.”

Wang Hanran’s words suggested this was firsthand intelligence obtained by Cannibal Chain. At this stage, only organizations like Cannibal Chain and Five Ring Money had the reach to gather intel beyond China’s borders.

“Your admission tickets—were they all given to you?” Xia Lei suddenly interjected, surprising the others. Then their gazes shifted to Ye Zhongming.

Xia Lei’s implication was clear: Cloud Peak’s ticket hadn’t been a gift.

“I see. Please continue.”

Judging by their reactions, Xia Lei had her answer and gestured for Wang Hanran to proceed.

The leader of Cannibal Chain spoke gravely:

“We all know the aliens are bound by certain rules preventing them from descending to Earth. But those rules likely have a counterpart—restrictions targeting Earth’s evolved.”

“In other words, the core of the intel I obtained can be summed up in one sentence: They can’t come down… but we can go up!”

The moment these words left Wang Hanran’s mouth, the room fell into a heavy silence.

Whether it was Ye Zhongming, Xia Lei, Guang Yao, Mo Ye (hearing this for the first time), or the Five Rings Money deacons and Commander Mu (already informed), everyone was stunned.

Shock. Disbelief. Dread. Unease.

Go… to the stars?

None of them—not even Ye Zhongming, who had long sought to unravel the apocalypse’s mysteries—had seriously considered confronting the aliens directly.

Now, suddenly, the question loomed urgently before them.

“Additionally, while the intel didn’t state it outright, our analysis suggests that to ascend, one must not only possess this admission ticket but also meet a minimum requirement.”

Xia Lei and Ye Zhongming exchanged glances, already guessing the answer.

Wang Hanran nodded, exhaling heavily.

“Yes. Nine stars. One must become a nine-star evolved… to even have a chance of ascending!”

“And why we’re here—”

Without giving Ye Zhongming time to process, Wang Hanran’s tone sharpened.

“—is to ask you, the King of Cloud Peak, the strongest among us, to be the first to see what lies above!”