Apocalypse Gachapon

The wheel’s rules left Ye Zhongming and the others in contemplative silence.

They couldn’t yet determine whether these rules favored or disadvantaged them.

The immediate advantages they could identify were:

The Mountain King Disk wouldn’t require a final, inevitably brutal challenge—good news for those prioritizing rewards.

Despite Ye Zhongming’s current resource scarcity, his status as a top-tier craftsman meant his remaining materials could be rapidly upgraded. In critical moments, they might even sacrifice high-level gear to secure more Bright Star ownership. After all, compared to the Mountain King Disk—a ruler-grade equipment—other gear took lower priority.

Yet, disadvantages existed too. If any faction possessed overwhelming wealth, they could purchase numerous Bright Stars. During the rearrangement phase, they might even buy out guardians originally belonging to others.

As before, purchasing and challenging were directly linked. More money meant more purchases, fewer challenges, and better-preserved strength. Even if funds were exhausted by the end, they’d retain combat-ready forces.

Clearly, the rules disadvantaged poorer factions.

For Cloud Peak to emerge victorious, they’d need not just top-tier combat power but also luck—avoiding others’ Bright Stars, reaching their own, or encountering weakly upgraded guardians would be crucial.

Ideas flashed through their minds, though they knew gaps remained. The rules’ flexibility suggested untapped strategies they hadn’t yet uncovered.

Now, Cloud Peak faced a decision: whether to purchase this Bright Star’s guardian.

“After reaching the center, all Bright Stars will be scrambled. We don’t know if peripheral stars differ from central ones,” Xiao Min mused, studying the crystal’s intricate patterns. “If they do, we should buy cheaper, weaker guardians. If not, we’ll need careful consideration.”

“We should’ve struck the Soaring Crystal softer,” a Youth Army member grumbled. “We could’ve claimed more stars early, then coasted to victory during the final ten rounds.”

Many nodded, but Ye Zhongming shook his head.

“The central zone’s stars are public territory,” Dai Zhi explained. “Whoever arrives first gains initial advantage. Later arrivals must either pay tolls (which go to the occupying faction) or challenge guardians. In public zones, slower movement with ample resources makes sense to claim more stars. But early on, speed is key.”

The complainers realized they’d oversimplified things.

“There’s more,” Ye Zhongming added, memorizing the patterns—each likely representing real creatures. “Purchasing versus challenging hinges on balancing strength and wealth. Claiming numerous stars without combat prowess or funds achieves nothing but losses.”

“Alternatively,” he continued, “racing to the center while conserving resources, then dominating the final ten rounds, is equally valid.”

“Of course, with sufficient strength or wealth, one could methodically conquer most stars for guaranteed victory.”

He left unspoken the uncertainty: no faction could confidently assess whether they possessed such overwhelming advantages. Neither Mechanical Genius nor Cloud Peak could.

Thus, the paradox remained: secure more stars now, or prioritize speed and conservation?

The crystal panel displayed ten rows of patterns with varying counts:

Bottom two rows: 142 each (neatly aligned)

Next two: 118 each

Following two: 86 each

Seventh row: 61

Eighth row: 49

Ninth row: 34

Top (tenth) row: 12

Above these, a separate triangle housed six elite guardians—the nine-headed dragon plus five others.

Total: 854 guardian options.

Energy bar lengths scaled dramatically—top-row requirements tripled the bottom’s, while the elite six demanded staggering amounts.

Suddenly, a seventh-row pattern flickered and vanished.

Though Cloud Peak maintained composure, shock rippled through them.

One faction had already chosen—triggering a cascade as others followed suit.

Ye Zhongming remained patient. With 854 options, he doubted anyone would splurge on the elite six yet.

Then came a surprise: someone selected a top-row guardian (only twelve available)—a massive early investment. Who’d gamble so boldly? Mechanical Genius?

After observation, Ye Zhongming made his move—selecting a fifth-row pattern.