Apocalypse Gachapon

Moonspan Gold?

Ye Zhongming moved closer to examine this metal carefully.

Well, it should be metal, right?

At least visually, it did appear to be a kind of living metal.

The reason for saying this was because the metal wasn’t completely static – it swayed slightly like aquatic plants in water.

The movement was extremely subtle, perhaps invisible to ordinary human eyes, but as a level nine evolved, Ye Zhongming could still detect it.

Looking more carefully, he saw the metal wasn’t in blocks or strips, but took the form of sharp-tipped cylindrical shapes, like countless miniature sharpened pencils.

“This is a miraculous metal. Its form is nearly immutable – each strand is an independent unit, which we also use as our measurement standard.”

“From machines that connect to Slave Race target planets, to equipment that transports items into planets, even to materials for building survivor fortresses – all require this metal. It’s undoubtedly the core component.”

Jikesu inserted his hand into a groove on the operation platform, withdrawing it with a delicate mechanical arm attached.

Using this arm, Jikesu carefully extracted a single strand of Moonspan Gold and slowly extended it toward Ye Zhongming.

“Don’t touch it directly. While not seriously harmful, contact would cause chemical reactions that affect its purity, and its color would stain your skin – very difficult to wash off.”

Ye Zhongming observed carefully, then wrapped his hand in clothing before receiving the Moonspan Gold.

Even through the fabric, he could feel a chilling coldness from the metal.

Why did this thing feel like ice?

As a master craftsman, Ye Zhongming was highly sensitive to materials. He regularly worked with top-grade metals like Ghost Metal and Ocean Drill Metal.

But never had any metal given him this… elusive feeling.

It was as if he weren’t holding metal, but something alive.

“Surprised by its liveliness?” Jikesu smiled. “It’s something with peak activity levels.”

Then Jikesu’s tone shifted.

“Moonspan Gold is valuable – the foundation of everything. Its preciousness goes without saying. And you, having passed the trash trial to become a novice, will soon face a major test.”

Ye Zhongming tried returning the strand to the main cluster. When within about 15 centimeters, a natural magnetic force pulled it back. After a few adjustments, it realigned perfectly with the rest.

Marvelous! That was all Ye Zhongming could say.

Seeing Ye Zhongming’s fascination, Jikesu smiled understandingly – everyone reacted this way when first encountering this miraculous metal.

“What major test?” Ye Zhongming asked.

“The Novice Battlefield,” Jikesu answered. “Also called the Tournament of Hope.”

The Cloud Peak King felt an urge to scratch his head – this sounded like some frustrating childhood competition.

“Time is short. The details will be explained en route. I’ll just say two things.”

Jikesu returned all the ground-level bubbles overhead before looking solemnly at Ye Zhongming. “You have one day to memorize all the parasite characteristics we’ve documented, select your equipment, and then depart. During the journey, besides receiving full explanations about the Novice Battlefield, you’ll need to familiarize yourself with your teammates and coordinate with them.”

Ye Zhongming looked somewhat helplessly at Jikesu.

Did the Star-Eye Clan always spring things on people like this? Just finished the trial, got bombarded with cosmic knowledge about gods and Slave Races, and now immediate departure? Too rushed!

“The Star-Eye Clan is a minor faction among the spacefaring races, struggling for survival. In fact…”

The old man hesitated before continuing bluntly: “We’ve reached a life-or-death juncture.”

Jikesu looked intently at Ye Zhongming. “Though the spacefaring races are a loose alliance, roughly divided into three factions, one principle remains constant across all: the strong prey on the weak.”

Ye Zhongming understood – it was the law of the jungle.

“Because all machines and equipment penetrating the Slave Race’s blockade to reach target planets are provided by the wheel-making gods as public resources. Each use requires our own Moonspan Gold. And where does Moonspan Gold come from? Correct – extracted from parasite corpses.”

“And where do parasites come from? Killed on target planets. By whom? The warriors there. Who do warriors give the corpses to? Naturally to the spacefaring races who aided them.”

“The Star-Eye Clan isn’t suited for frontal combat. We lack powerful charge skills, exceptionally resilient bodies equivalent to premium armor, and our numbers are few. These limitations greatly constrain our proxy selection.”

It made sense – every lifeform has its specialties. Asking a mountain-like brute race to learn Star-Eye assassination techniques would be foolishly inefficient – high effort, low returns, producing ineffective warriors.

Thus, they could only select suitable lifeforms or individual targets.

“Most Slave Race parasites combine agility and strength, with others possessing special abilities. While we can kill them, the cost is high and success rates low.”

“We’re trapped in a vicious cycle.” Jikesu rubbed his head, clearly vexed by this problem.

Trained warriors unsuited against parasites lead to disproportionate costs and meager returns. Fewer returns mean either quantity or quality must suffer in subsequent training, making parasite combat even harder and returns smaller…

Understanding this cycle gave Ye Zhongming a headache too.

“We need a breakthrough, a hope – like you.”

“Your admission ticket was stolen.” Jikesu’s words slightly embarrassed the Cloud Peak King. “But we discovered your Beautiful Celestial Body aligns perfectly with Star-Eye abilities. In all these cosmic years, you’re nearly the most ideal candidate we could imagine.”

“So we’ll spare no effort supporting you, helping you achieve high rankings in the Novice Battlefield, winning more Moonspan Gold and spokespeople quotas for our clan.”

“Ye Zhongming of Earth – can I trust you?”