Apocalypse Gachapon

One nine-star potion serving two, at the cost of losing a battle beast’s rapid advancement to level nine. On paper, the trade-off seems balanced, but in reality, it’s a huge bargain.

Ya Tian and Ya Ni were already extraordinary twin sisters. Together, their combined strength surpassed others of the same level.

Once both became nine-star evolved, their coordinated power would overwhelm all but the most formidable level nine lifeforms.

Of course, battles hinge on countless factors—raw comparisons don’t always dictate outcomes—but this was the only metric available.

Another reason Ye Zhongming sacrificed the rare Red Soul Beast Pearl was his confidence in Cloud Peak’s battle beasts. He believed they could reach level nine through conventional means.

Even now, Yangos, Yellow Ball, and others showed signs of impending evolution, having peaked at level eight, stalled only by the level nine bottleneck.

And let’s not forget Lanyou—the miraculous plant within Cloud Peak’s grounds. Its aid to battle beasts was immense!

Last time it bloomed, its petals alone greatly benefited level eight beasts. Once those petals withered and bore fruit, the effects, while perhaps not matching the Red Soul Beast Pearl, would come close.

“After this transformation, they’ll develop enhancements even I can’t predict—direction, magnitude, all uncertain. But the changes will be positive.”

The machines hummed to a gradual stop. The twins’ convulsions ceased, and female researchers carried them to silver liquid pods, submerging them in a pale blue, seawater-like fluid.

“Now we wait. The awakening will take at least four or five days. When they rise… they’ll essentially be one person. Sigh.”

Even after completing what others would deem a groundbreaking experiment, Liu Zhenghong and Ye Zhongming felt only complexity.

Shaking off the mood, the group moved to another lab—or rather, the Gene Life Production Facility.

Mature gene warriors were already being mass-produced here via assembly lines.

Passing through these, they reached an innermost metal door. Inside, Ye Zhongming and Mo Ye spotted Liu Zhenghong’s lab coats—this was evidently her private rest area.

“This is for Little Ye’s trip to the sky.”

Ye Zhongming was puzzled. The small room seemed devoid of anything noteworthy.

“You said activating the entry pass might trigger unpredictable restrictions—possibly even barring spatial equipment.” Liu Zhenghong opened a drawer, retrieving a crystal box and placing it before them.

“If that happens, your ability to handle danger would plummet. None of us wants you dead.”

At first, the box appeared empty. Then Ye Zhongming noticed it.

“I call it ‘Healing Gel’—a placeholder name.”

Red Sister dipped a finger into the box, lifting a nearly transparent, gelatinous substance.

“Without spatial gear, your potions stay behind. Even with your regeneration, injuries could temporarily weaken you. Against the alien races and unknown foes? Unacceptable.”

She instructed Ye Zhongming to cut his wrist, then applied the gel.

An icy sensation spread, like frost over skin.

“It absorbs into your body. When injured, you can direct it to heal any wound, except mental damage.”

True to her words, the gel dissolved into Ye Zhongming’s bloodstream, threading through his arm.

The sensation was unsettling—foreign matter invading one’s body carried inherent risks.

“Remember: it’s consumable. You control where and how much it heals. Once depleted, it’s gone.”

Mo Ye’s eyes widened.

The gel’s simplicity belied its power—a portable, omnidirectional medic (minus mental health). Controlled healing: slow for minor wounds, instant for crises.

With Park Xiuying unable to accompany Ye Zhongming skyward, this gel was a lifeline.

“Total healing capacity…” Liu Zhenghong paused. “Based on your eight-star data, it could offset two lethal injuries. But you’re nine-star now. The updated analysis isn’t complete, so I can’t say for sure.”

“I’d estimate instant recovery from one critical wound.”

Research on nine-star evolved was still nascent. Even Cloud Peak’s top-tier labs had limited insights. The gel’s efficacy on Ye Zhongming remained theoretical.

“This is already incredible!”

The King of Cloud Peak was thrilled.

Others lacked his firsthand dread of the Universal Races and their enslaved species. Ye Zhongming knew the sky’s dangers—this near-instant heal was invaluable.

“I need sleep. Get out.”

Liu Zhenghong shooed them off. Only she could dismiss two nine-star evolved so brusquely.

As they turned to leave—

“Oh, Little Ye.” Her drowsy voice trailed after them.

“At current capacity—factoring in maintenance, upkeep, and medical support—we’ll hit peak gene warrior production in a month.”

Ye Zhongming looked back at her, now sprawled on the bed, eyes closed.

“Meaning: in 30 days, you’ll have an army of 100,000 gene warriors.”