Apocalypse Gachapon

It was unclear whether Color Man carried some special equipment, but when he approached Ye Zhongming, synchronized audio transmission appeared on the light screen.

The question he asked Ye Zhongming was the very same doubt lingering in the minds of those watching the battle.

Many had a vague notion—how could this garbage be so strong as to kill Sky Pillar? Or rather, how did he pull it off?

Not everyone possessed Color Man’s sharp insight. After all, aside from his formidable personal strength, his role overseeing the annual special training missions had honed his judgment far beyond others in this regard.

So when he spoke, everything became clear.

Turns out, Sky Pillar was easily struck because the traps weren’t meant to injure it but to restrict it, creating that fleeting opening. Exploiting that moment to pierce its eyes wasn’t about dealing direct damage—it was to create a blind spot.

With that blind spot, the second shadow clone could drive the short sword into the fatal point on its head, allowing Ye Zhongming to capitalize on another blind spot—created by his own eye-piercing strike—to close in and finish Sky Pillar with a single punch.

Impressive. But this alone shouldn’t have secured victory. The paralysis Sky Pillar exhibited after the first injury was equally critical—it drastically reduced its defenses and focus, letting the shadow clone strike so effortlessly.

In fact, Cheng Liuji now wanted Color Man to ask another question: How did he create such a solid shadow clone? What’s the trick?

Ye Zhongming patted off the dirt and stood up. His disheveled state wasn’t an act—taking a direct hit from a level nine lifeform with only earthen armor and green-tier leather protection was no joke. Had Sky Pillar’s attack been fully charged, the King of Cloud Peak might’ve been bedridden for days.

“Hmm, just embed a bit of mental energy when forming the shadow. Easy.”

Ye Zhongming said it as if it were the most natural thing.

To him, this shouldn’t be groundbreaking. If they could infuse poison into the shadow, why not mental energy? At its core, shadow creation was just the fusion of personal energy and mental power.

Yet this sentence plunged Color Man, Masked Man, Aslan, and everyone behind the light screen into awkward silence.

How… mortifying.

Double Poison Shadow was their invention, their teaching. This garbage had only learned it ten days ago. And now, his rhetorical question highlighted what they’d never achieved!

But no one had ever made a shadow function like this. Was it due to mental inertia? Or did this garbage possess some unique technique?

Face mattered everywhere. Cheng Liuji decided to task all clansmen who knew Double Poison Shadow with researching this. Suppose they could crack it themselves; no need to ask. If not… they’d revisit the issue.

“Disperse. Everyone, return to your duties.”

Cheng Liuji abruptly shut off the light screen and left.

On the battlefield, Color Man wasn’t one for subtlety. He cut straight to the chase:

“How do you embed mental energy?”

Ye Zhongming first shot a puzzled glance at Aslan—then realization dawned.

These people… couldn’t use the ability like he could.

Initially, he’d assumed Aslan’s teachings were incomplete because she hadn’t mastered it.

Now it was clear—the entire Star Eye Race had limits in applying Double Poison Shadow!

That glance made Aslan’s face burn. The female birdman seethed inwardly—Was this garbage implying she was incompetent?!

But Ye Zhongming was no fool. Having grasped the situation, he immediately deflected, avoiding a direct answer.

True, the Star Eye Race had brought him to the heavens, offering answers to questions that had plagued him for nearly seventeen years (including his past life). But realistically, any Cosmic Race could’ve done the same. He owed them no debt.

Freebies? Not happening. Want his technique? Pay up.

Not that he planned to gouge them—he knew his place. But handing it over for nothing? No chance.

Color Man understood.

From behind him, he produced an object—a metallic cylinder about 20 cm long and 7-8 cm in diameter, engraved with archaic patterns and unfamiliar symbols.

“This is a Mimicry War Device. Press different symbols to transform it into various weapons. Decent power—far superior to your makeshift short sword. See if it satisfies you.”

Ye Zhongming’s eyes lit up. He was lacking a proper weapon. If this outperformed his short sword, it’d be at least blue-grade—a significant upgrade.

Taking it, he pressed a symbol as instructed. The device flashed blue, and from both ends, energy beams shot out, elongating into a two-meter staff with a shimmering, radiant body. A few test swings confirmed its perfect weight.

Testing other symbols revealed more forms: sword, blade, spear, whip, and dagger—six modes in total.

The real shock? Every form was gold-grade!

Treasure. Absolute treasure.

“Well?”

Color Man smirked.

To the relatively “poor” Star Eye Race, the Mimicry War Device wasn’t particularly valuable.

But to a destitute garbage? Priceless.

After a moment’s thought, Ye Zhongming agreed.

Color Man tapped his shoulder, linking to headquarters—he had no intention of hoarding this knowledge.

Payment received, payment due. Ye Zhongming explained his shadow-crafting method. Most aligned with Aslan’s teachings—the key difference lay in the poison-gas infusion phase, where the King of Cloud Peak had innovated.

“That’s it. Embed mental energy seeds—when detonated, they unleash mental shocks. Same principle as poison gas, just a different vector.”

As Ye Zhongming divulged the technique, the headquarters’ reaction remained unseen. But Color Man’s trio fell silent, processing. And once they grasped it, doubt surfaced.

By this garbage’s account, the conditions for creating such a shadow seemed… absurdly stringent?!