Apocalypse Gachapon

To be honest, when they saw this scene, neither Aslan—who had taught Ye Zhongming for ten days—nor Color Man, who still held a sliver of hope for him, nor those watching behind the light screen like the Gold Commander and the others, felt particularly surprised.

The combat style of the Star Eye Race was often like this.

Strike when the enemy is unprepared, or lure them into a trap.

However, when they saw the direction Ye Zhongming was running in, everyone frowned.

Logically, since he had gone to the trouble of setting up so many traps earlier, he should now be leading the monster toward them. But this garbage was running in entirely the wrong direction.

“Is he nervous? Panicking?”

The same staff member voiced his guess again.

The others considered it briefly before dismissing the possibility.

Any garbage that made it this far was a top-tier figure on their home planet. While it was possible for someone like that to feel nervous, it was unlikely they’d be so flustered as to make such a basic mistake.

Yet, they truly couldn’t figure out what this garbage was trying to do.

“Is his goal to reach this open area?”

A Silver Mask suddenly pointed at a basketball-court-sized patch of flat ground some distance ahead on Ye Zhongming’s escape route, where only a few weeds and short flowers grew.

Was there some skill he could unleash in an open space? Cheng Liuji and the others considered the possibility.

But then—

Ye Zhongming swerved before reaching the clearing.

The observers collectively felt the urge to lower their heads in secondhand embarrassment.

Was this guy seriously just running around blindly out of nervousness—or even fear?

“Pathetic.”

The Darkstripe language had a phrase close to this idiom, and Aslan used it to describe Ye Zhongming.

At the same time, the last traces of any special sentiment she had for this garbage vanished without a trace.

In the universe, fear and cowardice had no place.

Watching the “pitiful” garbage, Cheng Liuji was already considering how to punish him.

If this garbage failed to demonstrate his worth, then everything he had done to Aslan would be repaid with suffering.

“Look, he’s starting to lure it toward the traps now.”

Once again, it was the staff member, with his tendency to overreact, who stopped many of those who had been about to leave.

On the light screen, everyone seemed to hear a snap as one of the traps sprang up from the ground, hurling a sharp stone toward Sky Pillar’s lower body.

Many shook their heads again.

Sky Pillar was a monster, not some carbon-based primate with vulnerable weak points. What could a rock possibly do?

Sky Pillar didn’t even bother dodging. Without slowing, it continued chasing Ye Zhongming.

At its level, it could instinctively gauge whether an attack posed any real threat.

Next, Ye Zhongming began leading Sky Pillar through the rest of his traps.

But just as the spectators had predicted, these traps only served as minor obstacles, posing no real danger to Sky Pillar.

People in front of the light screen started leaving.

To be fair, the traps were quite ingenious—their placement, triggering mechanisms, and integration with the environment were all well-executed. If made with higher-grade materials, this would have been an extremely efficient series of linked traps.

But as they were, with low-quality materials, they were useless.

Having lost most of his abilities, lacking equipment or allies, many believed this garbage stood no chance against Sky Pillar.

Level nine lifeforms weren’t something even the Cosmic Races could casually tame—only a select few species could be domesticated, and each was well-documented. The Star Eye Race, as a minor faction among the Cosmic Races, had very few level nine lifeforms under their control, and Sky Pillar was one of their stronger ones.

A “crippled” garbage like this couldn’t possibly defeat it.

Among the crowd, only one person grew increasingly focused.

“What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you leaving?”

Aslan was annoyed that Color Man remained standing there, still watching. The special training instructors had a mountain of work to do when new garbage arrived—it was the busiest time of the cosmic year.

“Let me watch a little longer.”

Color Man had a suspicion, but he wasn’t sure. Right now, he desperately wanted a closer look—to see if Sky Pillar had what he suspected on its body…

“You—”

Aslan was about to say more, but stopped when Ye Zhongming turned and launched his first counterattack.

A layer of black earthen armor covered his body as he gripped his short sword like a long dagger. Then, with that near-teleportation-like ability that defied belief, he went from facing away from Sky Pillar to appearing at its side in an instant, slashing at one of the multi-armed beast’s eyes.

“Won’t work.”

As the leader of the Gold Masks, Cheng Liuji was naturally highly skilled. The moment he saw Ye Zhongming’s move, he made his judgment.

And just as predicted—despite the suddenness and speed of the attack, Sky Pillar, with no blind spots in its vision, instantly tracked Ye Zhongming’s movement.

The targeted arm twisted aside while two others launched another of those cork-popping airwave attacks.

Ye Zhongming had already witnessed the destructive power of these shockwaves—they could blast craters into the ground.

The spectators, familiar with Sky Pillar’s offensive capabilities, knew the garbage would have to dodge. This assault would end in failure.

But to everyone’s shock, Ye Zhongming didn’t evade.

He stood there and took both hits head-on, his body sent flying backward from the impact.

It’s over.

A few who had turned to leave shook their heads and turned away again. Taking a direct hit from Sky Pillar meant death or crippling injury—even a Bronze Mask would be severely wounded, let alone a rookie garbage.

But then gasps made them look back.

They saw a shadowy figure appear directly above Sky Pillar.

“Double Poison Shadow!”

The staff member exclaimed as if seeing the ability for the first time.

“Look at its hands!”

Someone of Cheng Liuji’s caliber naturally wouldn’t be as clueless as the staff member. He immediately noticed the difference.

The shadow clone Ye Zhongming had summoned was flawless.

“Flawless” referred to its form.

Normally, when the Star Eye Race used this ability, they didn’t focus much on the shadow’s offensive capabilities. Their requirements for the clone were simple: first, act as a shield; second, explode into poison gas.

As long as it could roughly take shape, it didn’t matter if it resembled the user or not.

But Ye Zhongming’s was different—the clone he created was a perfect replica of himself.

And what truly stunned the spectators was that the shadow was holding two weapons in its hands!

How was that even possible?!