Apocalypse Gachapon

The nights in Black Dragon City were also very lively.

Nighttime lighting restrictions were not very strict in a city with such special weapons. After all, when there were no beast tides, as long as level eight lifeforms could be resisted, people could basically rest easy. Level nine lifeforms were rare, and unless necessary, they won’t attack human cities, as that would invite endless retaliation.

Of course, if there is a beast tide, having lights or not doesn’t make much difference.

Ye Zhongming walked through the streets of Black Dragon City, feeling as if he were in Ying City or the Holy City of West Asia—if not for the biting cold.

In the post-apocalyptic world, such bustling places were rare.

Who would have thought they’d encounter one in this icy, snowy wasteland?

However, compared to the Holy City and Ying City, the prosperity here carried a hint of blood.

When the wind blows from the north, it brings a faint scent of blood and stench, emanating from the city center, where humans and various mutated lifeforms were locked in a life-and-death struggle at all times.

Among Black Dragon City’s evolved, there’s a saying: “Wealth in the center, death in the center.” It means that evolved who frequent the city center either became wealthy by hunting mutated lifeforms or die there, leaving behind piles of bones.

This illustrates Black Dragon City’s residents’ complex feelings toward the city center.

Ye Zhongming strolled through Black Dragon City with Xiaopeng, Xia Bai, and Red Hair, taking in the northern customs. The abundance of commercial streets was quite appealing.

Amid the city’s ruins, people built shelters using materials like wooden planks, sheet metal, animal bones, and even ice. For evolved, as long as they weren’t exposed to the extreme cold for too long, they’d generally be fine, just uncomfortable.

The people of Black Dragon City were adept at using local resources. Trees, bones, and pelts of mutated lifeforms served as materials for warmth. Some were used to light bonfires, while others were made into fur coats or bedding to help them endure the long, harsh winters.

Black Brother once mentioned that Black Dragon City now had over three million evolved—a staggering number, making it a supercity in the post-apocalyptic world.

This wasn’t because the living conditions here were particularly good, but because survivors in the northern regions were relatively concentrated.

With more people came more business. Aside from dedicated merchants, most evolved here played dual roles as warriors and traders. After returning from hunts, they’d lay out unwanted items before their homes, bargaining with interested buyers. They’d browse other stalls with money, haggling for things they needed.

This contributed to the city’s lively nights, as many ventured outside during the day to hunt, avoiding the terrifying cold storms.

Ye Zhongming and his group wandered down two streets, spotting many peculiar items—all local specialties.

Of course, a few things caught Ye Zhongming’s eye now. After two streets, he only bought the pelt of a level-five snow fox, planning to make shawls or scarves for Xia Lei, Liang Chuyin, and Miya, who hadn’t come along this time.

A single snow fox pelt was quite large, enough for three pieces.

Though the streets were lined with stalls, there were no high-quality goods. After browsing, Ye Zhongming and the others lost interest. Upon inquiry, they learned the city had a dedicated commercial street, far superior to these small stalls, lined with major shops backed by Black Dragon City’s powerful factions or even owned by them directly. It was said to house many valuable items.

Visiting a new city naturally meant exploring such places. Ye Zhongming gave a wandering 13- or 14-year-old two-star evolved child a level three magic crystal to act as their guide. The child eagerly agreed, even recommending the best shops for buying and selling along the way.

“Go to Jiang Dabao’s Shop or Essence Pavilion if you want to buy. Their prices are fair, and the goods are decent. But since you’re outsiders, haggle after asking the price.”

The boy spoke earnestly, eager to share everything he knew.

As a two-star evolved, he couldn’t hunt. He usually did cleaning and washing jobs for major factions, barely scraping by. Earning level three magic crystals was hard for him, often relying on handouts. Over a year, he’d saved up six.

With the average evolved level now above four stars—especially after the sky boxes appeared—level three demon crystals had depreciated, slightly speeding up his savings. But the amount needed for a wheel spin (plus taxes) still felt hopeless. Getting a crystal so easily now filled him with gratitude and excitement.

Sighing inwardly at the hardships of the post-apocalyptic world, Ye Zhongming listened as the child continued, “If you want to sell, it’s best to go to Old An’s Morning Light Pavilion. They’re the most trustworthy, won’t lowball you, and even for consignments, they’ll pay you the full amount minus fees—no cheating.”

Ye Zhongming nodded in understanding, then asked, “Things have been tense up north lately. Do you know the specifics?”

The boy nodded. “It’s those redheads causing trouble—breaking business agreements, raiding our hunting teams, even sneaking into the northern district to poach. They’ve been sabotaging our hunts, too. When we sent people to negotiate, they killed them. Left with no choice, the city’s major factions decided to teach them a lesson, rallying evolved from other cities. But somehow, the redheads found out and sent a challenge, demanding a decisive battle outside the northern walls.”

Here, the boy hesitated before asking softly, “Are you… Here to help?”

Seeing the hope in his eyes, Ye Zhongming nodded.

The boy’s face lit up with a bright smile.

“Then I don’t want this.”

He handed back the level three demon crystal Ye Zhongming had just given him.

“Why?” Not just Ye Zhongming, but even Xia Bai, Red Hair, and Xiaopeng were stunned.

They could tell the boy needed the crystal badly, yet he was willing to forgo payment for something unrelated to him. Such a sense of collective responsibility was rare in the post-apocalyptic world, especially from an exploited, struggling child.

“The people here haven’t treated you well,” Red Hair remarked coolly, her gaze lingering on the boy’s feet, wrapped in animal hides instead of shoes, and his crude, unranked fur clothing.

It was clear no one cared for this child—at the very least, no faction was willing to take in a two-star evolved after five years in this world.

“If Black Dragon City loses, it’s not just about me not evolving further—I’ll die. Even if I survive, I won’t live as a slave to foreigners!”

The group—all influential figures in the Chinese region—fell silent at his words.