Apocalypse Gachapon

Ye Zhongming could break ice too, but not on that scale in such short time—a testament to the explosives’ power.

Such ordnance couldn’t be cheap. Using so many at once must have pained the Cannibal Chain deeply.

Cloud Peak’s losses were more about pride than lives. Thanks to Ye Zhongming and their other high-level fighters, the icebergs were reduced from mountains to manageable chunks. With their overall strength, they escaped mostly intact, only two deaths: one from Old Man’s team, one from the Youth Army, both due to unhealed injuries affecting performance.

No team dared linger after breaking through. As strange noises echoed behind them—likely the level-nine creature attacking again—they pressed forward. Even Ye Zhongming didn’t look back. With the creature temporarily out of sensory range, distance was their only safety.

A thunderous crash shook the ice, followed by the telltale cracking of fracturing sheets. Everyone redoubled their flight, desperate to avoid the freezing waters.

Minutes later, relative safety arrived. Looking back, they saw the ice hundreds of meters behind them had fully shattered, the churning sea turning the fragments into drifting islands.

Further out, the level-nine monstrosity had revealed most of its body—a demonic colossus dwarfing their initial glimpse. Including its still-submerged bulk, its sheer size defied comprehension.

That last “attack” had simply been its emergence—the ice shattered by its sheer mass. Follow current ᴏᴠʟs on NoveI(F)ire.net

Gulping at the distant behemoth, the survivors moved on.

Perhaps due to the level-nine’s presence, the remainder of their journey through the Bering Strait passed without incident, and they soon reached North America.

Upon entering Alaska, tensions spiked. With the Mountain King Crown’s emergence point nearing—perhaps a week’s travel despite the harsh conditions—the teams were now direct competitors.

Distrust ran deep. Past the strait, the groups split entirely, choosing separate routes for mutual comfort.

But nothing’s absolute. The day after reaching North America, Cloud Peak was intercepted—not for battle, but for business.

“Buy equipment? Potions?”

Ye Zhongming was stunned. He’d have expected assassination attempts from Alamos sooner than trade requests.

Alamos gave a wry smile. “Ye, it’s not so strange. I know your reputation—equipment and potions are Cloud Peak’s twin economic pillars. Just treat me as a customer.”

Ye Zhongming studied the mad scientist’s face, finding no deceit—only confusion. This was bizarre.

“But we’re… hardly allies.”

They’d clashed directly, fought to the death. Just two days ago, they’d parted ways in mutual suspicion.

Now cooperation?

In unfamiliar territory, Ye Zhongming had to be cautious.

“No eternal enemies, right?”

Seeing Ye Zhongming unmoved, Alamos knew he needed leverage.

“If you agree to sell me what I need, I’ll withdraw from the Mountain King Crown competition.”

At Ye Zhongming’s raised eyebrow, Alamos produced a book—a “Pact Tome.”

Like contract scrolls, Pact Tomes ensured mutual honesty, but with negotiable terms. Parties could stipulate penalties for breach—loss of skills, jobs, bloodlines, even items. Once signed, violations triggered the agreed-upon consequences.

More flexible than scrolls, Pact Tomes could typically be used three to ten times.

This convinced Ye Zhongming of Alamos’ sincerity—but not his motives.

Alamos immediately listed all his skills, jobs, and bloodlines, swearing to abstain from the crown competition after purchasing equipment. Violation would erase them all.

After consideration, Ye Zhongming agreed.

Then the scientist’s demands floored him.

“Five thousand sets of equipment! Twenty thousand evolution potions, levels three to six!”

He wanted to outfit an entire level-six evolved army! All silver-grade gear, with two hundred in full green, ten in blue. For himself, two gold items and one purple.

Ye Zhongming refused outright. Purple gear? He didn’t even have a full set himself!

Alamos offered an exorbitant price—enough to buy purple equipment on the open market—but Ye Zhongming held firm.

After back-and-forth, Ye Zhongming suddenly said, “Give me five hundred of those crystals, and I’ll agree.”

Alamos’ face changed.