Apocalypse Gachapon

Seeing Ye Zhongming lying in ambush nearby, Jie Kui swallowed back the words “Is this really going to work?”

Killing the Aesbeast had already proven Ye Zhongming’s insight and strength. Asking now would be pointless.

But he still couldn’t shake his unease. After all, this time, they were facing… something far more dangerous.

What Ye Zhongming had extracted from the Aesbeast’s belly was a structure that only formed in lactating mothers—known among the spacefaring races as a Nursing Ring.

The Cloud Peak King wasn’t sure if the parasite’s “lactation period” aligned with Earth’s biological classifications, nor did he care. All he knew, from Star-Eye records, was that the scent emitted by Nursing Rings had an irresistible allure for certain lifeforms.

And one such lifeform just happened to reside in the Vengeful Mist Rainforest.

This time, they didn’t have to wait long. The ground began trembling, the vibrations growing stronger as Jie Kui’s expression darkened.

There are too many of them!

Since they weren’t engaging immediately, he glanced at Ye Zhongming, hoping to see at least a hint of caution on his face.

But there was nothing. His calm was infuriating, as if he were merely watching clouds drift by.

“Thirty-seven.”

Ye Zhongming suddenly spoke the number.

Jie Kui froze, then realized he was referring to the approaching creatures. A shudder ran through him.

And for good reason.

Their targets were Spirit Fire Rhinos—a family-oriented, stampeding species of mutant lifeforms, each at least level eight.

The leaders were typically level nine, as were their mates. In powerful families, even a few dominant males could reach that tier.

Jie Kui had assumed a group of ten-plus rhinos with two level nines would be more than enough to handle. But thirty-seven?

By probability, that meant at least three level nines and the rest level eights. This was suicide.

“Four level nines. Thirty-three level eights.”

Ye Zhongming’s follow-up made Jie Kui want to curl up and die.

“Maybe… we should retreat?”

He felt it was a perfectly reasonable suggestion.

Instead, Ye Zhongming charged forward.

A sharp whistle pierced the air, instantly drawing the rhinos’ bloodshot eyes toward them.

“I’ll handle the small ones first. Guerrilla tactics.”

Ye Zhongming’s voice floated back, leaving Jie Kui no choice but to resign himself.

Boom!

The sudden noise startled Jie Kui. One of Ye Zhongming’s traps had triggered—a Spirit Fire Rhino lost its footing mid-charge and crashed sideways. Before Jie Kui could blink, a solid-seeming shadow materialized, driving a dagger deep into the fallen beast’s eye.

Blood sprayed. A piercing shriek followed.

Jie Kui didn’t wait to see the outcome. He veered to the flank, taking up position at one of Ye Zhongming’s prearranged ambush points.

Honestly, he had no idea why this spot was chosen, nor how hiding here was better than joining the fight.

But he’d overlooked one detail: that trap had just tripped a level eight creature at full charge…

The shadow clone drew the rhinos’ fury, exploding on command into a toxic, mind-numbing mist.

Ye Zhongming emerged briefly on the mist’s edge, leaving another rhino bleeding out before vanishing again into the rainforest.

The consecutive strikes enraged the family’s alpha.

It could sense its first wounded kin fading fast. The second had lost a leg—among Spirit Fire Rhinos, such injuries meant being culled by younger members practicing their kills.

But its rage was interrupted by a psychic shockwave. By the time it recovered, another member lay crippled, its back split open.

The scent’s location shifted. The alpha bellowed, redirecting the herd. The four level nines took up positions at the formation’s corners—wherever the attacker struck, two would counter.

Then—another explosion.

Debris flew from the ruptured ground, mingling with lingering mist to throw the herd into chaos.

Ye Zhongming descended from above, landing at the blast’s epicenter. The earth beneath the rhinos sank abruptly, freezing them momentarily—just long enough for hidden blades to slice upward, gutting several beasts.

More shadows materialized among the herd, weapons plunging into eyes and ears—their weakest points.

By the time counterattacks came, the mist had thickened. Ye Zhongming was gone again.

Watching from hiding, Jie Kui was dumbstruck.

Charging into a pack of four peers and dozens of near-equals? He’d never have the courage.

Yet the assault continued. Projectiles—Jie Kui couldn’t tell what—rained from the trees, pinging harmlessly off thick hides but further enraging the herd.

The rhinos retaliated with gouts of flame, igniting the rainforest. What had been damp foliage dried instantly under intense heat, bursting into wildfire.

The level nines stomped rhythmically, sending shockwaves of fire rippling outward in scorching rings.

If they couldn’t catch the slippery foe, they’d burn everything.

Watching flames lick past his hiding spot, Jie Kui marveled—How did Ye Zhongming predict their attack range so precisely without prior encounter?

Then—a mountainous silhouette materialized overhead, crashing toward the herd.

The alpha roared, its own spectral double launching skyward to meet the descending colossus.

BOOM!

The rhino’s projection shattered. The mountain flickered but held, continuing its fall—until the other three level nines joined forces, their combined impacts finally dispersing it.

But in that split-second distraction, two more rhinos fell.

This time, the alphas caught sight of their killer.