Apocalypse Gachapon Chapter 2: Level 1 Gachapon

Time was running out. Ye Zhongming hailed a taxi and dashed to the car rental spot. He swiped his card to the max for a beat-up pickup truck, then tapped a bank relative to cash out all his savings. Straight to the hospital next, where he grabbed heaps of heparin along with crucial meds and gear. That alone burned through 70 thousand. Onlookers staring at Ye Zhongming hauling two massive bags figured the guy had lost his marbles.

Sure, a pharmacy would've saved cash, but Ye Zhongming shrugged it off. Hospital drugs cost more yet guaranteed authenticity. Plus, in mere dozens of minutes, those fancy-printed bills would turn to trash.

Stuffing everything into the truck, Ye Zhongming pondered his weapon options. Firearms? Out of the question with the nation's iron grip on them, leaving blades as his sole choice.

Truth be told, with more time, Ye Zhongming would've scavenged supplies for traps—a trick from his decade of hard-won know-how. Yet only 20 minutes remained till apocalypse zero hour.

Out of options, he hit up a top hunting store, dropping a fortune on the owner's prized blade collection. He snagged loads of adventure equipment too. The boss watched him drive off with a grin that split his face; that payout could've snagged ten such blades.

With purchases done, Ye Zhongming glanced at his watch: 16:32, just 8 minutes left. He cut off Bai Sisi's call without a second thought, then unleashed the drifting prowess honed over ten post-revival years to blast through red lights. Amid a storm of curses from drivers, he shaved it down to five minutes reaching the upscale apartments near the school.

Dingcheng Apartments ranked as a premium enclave in the city. Seven-story blocks hid ten posh villas out back, complete with gardens, underground parking, and every amenity imaginable.

Ye Zhongming picked this spot not for its plush vibes, but for the sparser crowds versus downtown, ample survival supplies, and most crucially, the level 1 Gachapon spawning on the ground floor.

The Exchange Gachapon, dubbed Apocalypse Gachapon, manifested as a glowing roulette wheel. It stood as humanity's sole lifeline amid the end times, letting folks trade for food, water, clothes, weapons, tools, machinery, skills, bloodlines, and more.

Thanks to it, humans eked out existence amid zombies, monsters, and mutants.

Back in his prior life, Ye Zhongming scraped by only through heavy trades at the gachapon. He scored a solid skill too, ascending to Six Star Evolved—a level deeming him pretty formidable.

Regrettably, a mutated insect's ambush felled him in pathetic fashion.

Ye Zhongming sneered, brushing off the gated community's guards. He plowed through the barrier and rolled inside, relying on memory to pinpoint that building, fresh as a newly built apartment.

“Damn, stop there! Damn, a pickup truck.” Three guards pursued, gripping batons atop an electric scooter, hounding his truck with shouts.

Accustomed to million-yuan luxury rides gliding through, they scoffed at pickup drivers. A Rolls-Royce pulling that stunt? They'd never bark—just polite queries with bows and smiles.

Ye Zhongming hopped out, eyed the winded guards, checked his watch, then lounged back in the truck. As they charged up, he coolly jabbed a finger skyward.

The trio craned their necks upward, spotting nothing but blue skies.

“Damn, he is crazy!”

The pudgy lead guard eyed Ye Zhongming's shirt, pegging him as a nobody, and hefted his baton for a swing.

Yet a deafening blast jolted him. He gawked skyward again, frozen in shock.

A colossal mushroom cloud erupted with the boom. A massive sci-fi spaceship materialized, unleashing beams that sparked the earth-shaking detonations echoing around.

Ye Zhongming narrowed his gaze at the golden vessel soaring through dark clouds.

He knew those crafts: among level 9 gachapon's top ten prizes. Named Golden Saint, it ranked as elite gear.

That revival-sparked riddle resurfaced. What sparked this doom? Who unleashed it? Alien civ? Or a race forged tough by prior strikes?

No answers came even in life.

No human, after a decade, had the might to flee Earth for truths.

Unable to venture outside, he had no path to uncovering the truth.

Right then, spotting the haughty Golden Saint Warship, Ye Zhongming felt a burning impulse.

He yearned to identify the one who unleashed the apocalypse!

Who had twisted the gorgeous planet into a hellish nightmare?

Who stole his comrades and sweethearts who battled alongside him?

Forcing a decade of torment upon him! And now, more suffering might await!

He thrust his middle finger toward the ship and roared. Snatching up his prepared supplies, he bolted to the spot ingrained in his memory. The three security guards gawked at the sky, their minds utterly blank.

Ye Zhongming understood this assault wouldn't drag on. In five minutes, it would conclude. The ships that plunged Earth into apocalypse would vanish, never to return.

However, five minutes afterward, a lethal toxin would blanket the sky. Those lacking immunity would warp into the zombies familiar from films. Beasts would mutate too, surging with fearsome power and deadliness.

Myriad zones—tens of thousands—would materialize, unleashing swarms of mutants and monsters. This onslaught would hurl the thinned human ranks into absolute despair.

Concurrently, gachapons would emerge, dispersed haphazardly across the globe. Each featured ten segments, each symbolizing a prize. Activate and spin; the needle's stop reveals the reward beneath.

Naturally, spinning a gachapon required preparation. Colorful slots lay below. Fill them to earn your turn.

Those fillers were termed demon crystals.

They originated from humans morphed into zombies, animals evolved into beasts, and mutants plus monsters spilling from the dungeons.

A demon crystal sat at the core of their skulls. Colors denoted varying tiers and might.

In the apocalypse, humans devoted every instant to slaying these horrors.

Apocalypse recollections and details raced through Ye Zhongming’s mind, yet his feet never faltered. Locating the villa hiding that level 1 gachapon, he leaped the barrier without delay, rushed the entrance, and shattered the fancy, fragrant wooden door with a kick.

Pain throbbed in his leg; he knew it stemmed from lacking evolution. Yet his training had forged a solid physique, proven by the door flying open.

The foyer blazed with golden splendor, betraying the owner's vast wealth—though his flair for opulence... Ye Zhongming found such lavishness alien.

“Who are you? Get out or I'll call the police!”

Around twenty, a long-haired girl in pink pajamas gaped from the spiral staircase. Startled by events, her buttons were askew. Descending revealed glimpses of her chest and thighs, pausing Ye Zhongming momentarily.

She jolted awake to a massive boom, then heard her door crash before investigating. Rushing down, she beheld Ye Zhongming burdened with gear.

Truth be told, Ye Zhongming’s features radiated harmlessness—no crook lugs bags on a heist. That eased her fear. But spotting his eyes on her form, scorn ignited in her gaze.

Men were all alike, ruled by their lower halves!

Ye Zhongming averted his eyes. Her figure had drawn him, but chiefly, he assessed her threat.

This check was a decade-honed instinct.

Assured no weapon lurked even in her intimates, Ye Zhongming flung the bags onto the sofa and sought the kitchen.

Soft glow radiated from inside.

The cue for the gachapon’s imminent arrival.

Ye Zhongming grinned. Baffled by his rebirth yet embracing its reality, he’d tackle it squarely. Ten years of harsh life had shaped this resolve.

Besides, it screamed massive chance—with his trove of apocalypse insights and savvy, wielding them could forge a legend!

Ye Zhongming nursed a profound desire. Could he crack this enigma?