Apocalypse Gachapon

Their improved strength made life slightly easier, but only because they kept a low profile, avoiding the notice of powerful foreign factions.

“Bring us back? What have we contributed? Just some Helmet Fish shells? They paid us! Sending protection sounds easy—one or two strong people can come collect goods, but they’d need six or seven to escort us out. Do you think that’s free?”

The group fell silent.

Old Man had a high standing—many owed him their lives, and most of their evolution potions came from him. The title “Old Man” was more a term of respect.

If he said it, it was true. Black Dragon City wouldn’t send escorts for nothing.

They hadn’t proven their worth.

“But…” Old Man chuckled, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Black Dragon City sent word recently. Someone’s coming to find me—they need guides to Yakutsk. If we succeed, they’ll give us a six-star evolution potion!”

“Really?!”

A six-star potion just for guiding? That was incredible.

“Old Man, I heard something’s happening near Yakutsk lately. If we go… will it be dangerous?”

Ah Jie voiced his concern.

Yakutsk wasn’t far, but the route passed through the infamous Ice Marsh and territories of powerful mutated lifeforms. Few in Stink Nest dared go.

For their squad, it was even riskier.

“We’re just guides, not fighters. They’re strong enough if they can cross the icy plains from Black Dragon City. Any danger, they’ll handle it. Should be fine.”

The others nodded. In the apocalypse, nothing was risk-free. Even fishing for Helmet Fish had dangers—one wrong move, and an ice arrow could kill.

Compared to that, guiding was nothing. And a six-star potion was worth it!

With renewed motivation, they worked faster—drilling holes, preparing bait, setting up defenses, sharpening ice blades—finishing in forty minutes what usually took over an hour.

“Prepare the rods!”

Old Man called out. The squad’s other five-star evolved lifted a thick metal fishing rod, ready to lower it into the hole—

When hurried footsteps interrupted them.

They turned, faces darkening.

Though Old Man’s squad had arrived early, scouting and drilling had taken two hours. Now, the lake was busy, with other groups hundreds of meters away—none close enough to matter.

But this group had appeared suddenly, closing in before they noticed.

Roaring Ice Bears—a fifty-man team led by “Filthy-Nosed Dog” Tarokov.

Tarokov was only five stars, but his squad had three other five-stars, over twenty four-stars, and the rest three-stars.

Slightly stronger than Old Man’s squad.

In a fight, Old Man’s squad wasn’t afraid—killing them all would cost Roaring Ice Bears dearly, possibly a dozen lives, including core members. That would cripple them.

Normally, such squads avoided conflict unless necessary.

Yet the Roaring Ice Bears surrounded them, grinning without fear.

“Mr. Tarokov—” Old Man began, head bowed, but was cut off.

“Scram! This spot’s ours now.”

The squad glared.

This was their spot, found and prepared after a morning’s work. Giving it up meant no harvest today.

At this hour, all good spots were taken. Fishing elsewhere risked catching nothing—or worse, attracting predators like Blood Eel Snakes, which could kill them.

This was outright robbery.

“What? Not moving? You yellow-skinned monkeys!”

Tarokov laughed mockingly.

Old Man’s squad clenched their fists.

This wasn’t the first time Roaring Ice Bears had stolen their spot. These lazy bastards slept in, then took their hard-earned locations, sometimes even stealing their bait.

Just this month, it had happened five times. Today made six.

“You son of a—!” Ah Jie, hot-blooded, stepped forward, but Old Man yanked him back.

Seeing the Roaring Ice Bears’ dangerous glares, Old Man forced a smile. “Mr. Tarokov, we’ll leave. Right away!”

Tarokov sneered, looking skyward in disdain. His men smirked, unsurprised by their cowardice.

“Old Man!” Ah Jie and the others seethed.

“Shut up! Pack up, now!” Old Man’s voice turned sharp.

“Leave the bait!” Tarokov’s order made their eyes burn.

The bait—level four ice beast flesh, Helmet Fish’s favorite—had cost three level five magic crystals!

“Give it to them!” Old Man barked, suppressing his team.

The squad lowered their heads, faces twisted in humiliation.

This was too much.

“Excuse me, is there someone here called Wang Zhiling?”

A young voice, speaking Chinese, cut through the tension.

The squad whirled around in shock—and hope.

That was because those words were in chinese.