Apocalypse Gachapon

Ye Zhongming and Jie Kui stood within the canopy of an ancient towering tree, gazing in a specific direction.

If their pursuers were still following them, they would inevitably enter their line of sight.

They wanted to see who had been dogging their steps.

Being shadowed like this—like maggots clinging to bone—was an unpleasant feeling.

Jie Kui wasn’t overly concerned. He agreed the situation was odd, but if they didn’t want a direct confrontation, avoidance had worked fine so far, hadn’t it? They’d been earning points while forcing their pursuers to exhaust themselves. Wasn’t that ideal?

The two of them had been meticulous about covering their tracks, something that wasn’t particularly difficult for them. The Star-Eye Clan’s techniques in this regard were among the best in the universe.

“Drag it out. See who gets eliminated first in three days.”

But Ye Zhongming was the leader, so Jie Kui deferred to him.

Yet… shouldn’t they have appeared by now?

Based on their earlier estimates, the trackers should’ve already come into view.

Ye Zhongming’s brow furrowed instinctively. A sense of unease settled in his chest.

“Let’s go,” he said abruptly.

“Abnormality signals danger.” If the expected pursuers hadn’t shown up, there were too many possibilities—and none of them were good.

“Wait.” Jie Kui stopped him, tilting his chin toward the distance. “They’re here.”

Ye Zhongming halted mid-turn and followed his gaze.

At the edge of their vision, seven figures emerged.

That number alone made Ye Zhongming’s unease deepen.

“Weren’t there more when I first used Detection Sense?”

“Netherrealm Star People?”

Jie Kui’s expression darkened as he pointed at a white-robed figure floating midair.

Ye Zhongming had skimmed their profile during his crash course on cosmic races, but time had been limited.

This race was a sentient energy-based lifeform, few in number but universally powerful, often possessing bizarre abilities. Their strengths lay in individual combat prowess and devastating skills, while their weaknesses were low population and glaring vulnerabilities—particularly against mental attacks.

“Huh? That brat?”

Jie Kui’s attention shifted to a diminutive figure. At this distance, her oversized blade was more visible than she was.

Ye Zhongming recognized her, too. The reason for Jie Kui’s tone was simple—during last night’s trial, this girl had been notoriously aggressive, bulldozing through the camp, picking fights with anyone in her path. The two of them had even scavenged discarded materials from her kills.

“Shit.”

Jie Kui’s voice dropped to a whisper, his body tensing.

“That half-bald freak with patchy hair—he’s from the Tearhound Ghost Clan. A master tracker!”

The previously indifferent Jie Kui now radiated lethal focus. Ye Zhongming could practically feel the killing intent emanating from him.

Not fear. Not panic. Just the cold desire to eliminate the threat.

“Tearhound Ghost trackers don’t follow aimlessly. Once they lock onto prey, they never let go. Only two outcomes: they give up, or the target forces them to.”

Ye Zhongming knew of them, but only vaguely. Jie Kui clearly had deeper knowledge.

“Can’t shake them?”

“Nearly impossible.” Jie Kui hesitated, then admitted, “At our current level? Basically, no chance.”

A pause. “Thank the stars we’re from the Star-Eye Clan. Our ability to erase traces is top-tier. Anyone else would’ve been caught already.”

Ye Zhongming didn’t respond; instead, studying the remaining four figures.

Aside from the Netherrealm Starian, the Tearhound Ghost, and the dwarf girl, the other four looked entirely human.

Earthlings? Ye Zhongming wasn’t sure. If they were, why team up with aliens to hunt him?

He shot Jie Kui a questioning glance, prompting an immediate, defensive reply:

“Not me. I don’t know them.”

“Wasn’t accusing you.”

“They look like you, though.”

“And you look like Peppa Pig.”

“What’s a Peppa Pig?”

Ye Zhongming chuckled. “Let’s move.” He signaled retreat.

The enemy outnumbered them, and their strength was undeniable. That little girl alone was a problem.

But the moment they turned—

ATTACK.

“You’re not leaving.”

A voice laced with killing intent reached them a split second before two spiraling fists slammed into their bodies.

No warning. No approach. Just sudden violence.

Caught off guard, they could only dodge blindly.

THUD. THUD.

Both were hit, hurled from the tree.

Ye Zhongming felt white-hot agony explode in his right chest. His lungs seized, and he coughed blood mid-fall. A desperate grab at a branch barely diverted his trajectory.

Jie Kui fared worse. The blow had shattered his left shoulder, rendering the arm useless. In combat, such an injury was worse than a stab wound—crippling his fighting capacity.

Near-fatal.

In the distance, the seven pursuers hadn’t missed the commotion.

The dwarf girl grinned, hefting her massive blade. “Plan worked. Looks like those two pinned down your targets. Let’s go!”

A battle junkie at heart, she charged ahead without waiting, her small frame somehow shaking the ground as she sprinted, kicking up debris in her wake.

Hawkins and Amus exchanged a glance, their eyes alight with predatory glee. Unlike their impulsive companion, they didn’t rush. Instead, their attention locked onto a bundle in Amus’s arms—

A luxurious golden quilt, within which lay a withered, blue-skinned doll, its neck stitched shut with black thread.