Apocalypse Gachapon Chapter 2010: Assault Camp reserve squad

Upon spotting Ye Zhongming's arrival, the somewhat disorganized group rose to their feet.

Hundreds of individuals, expelled from their prior squads, had been relegated to this vast warehouse-style dwelling, left unmanaged for several days. While the outside buzzed with fervent action, this spot remained an overlooked nook. Such neglect would sour anyone's spirits.

Solely due to reverence for the Order Leader and the influence Ye Zhongming had steadily amassed over this time, they upheld the discipline expected of troops.

Ye Zhongming strolled through the expansive warehouse, inspecting the surroundings. Conditions proved marginally superior to his expectations. Likely from habit, these Bronze warriors, despite inner discontent, preserved a soldierly standard: cleanliness, gear, weapons, and such were neatly organized, while private bedding and items stayed spotless and arranged.

"Chu Sa, formerly the Novice King, hailed as a promising talent poised to support the Star-Eye Clan. He truly displayed remarkable prowess in his debut year within the Bronze Camp. Regrettably, starting the second year, his power ceased growing and even waned, overtaken by numerous contemporaries. This shattered his mental equilibrium entirely. Through the years, though he avoided total ruin, he existed mechanically each day, listless and distracted, culminating in his current discardment."

Ye Zhongming abruptly halted, addressing a youthful soldier at his side. The soldier's cheeks flushed crimson; he bowed his head, fists tightening, his frame quivering faintly by the finish.

Yet Ye Zhongming paid him no mind, pressing onward to stand by another figure.

"Wo Aige'er! Among the rare brute-force specialists of the Star-Eye Clan. Yet you doubted your own gifts, lacked any arrogance, harbored no self-assurance, ignored your advantages, and chased pursuits unsuited to you. Consequently, you placed dead last in all squad evaluations. Furelai meant nothing to you; your sole desire was excelling in stealth kills and ambush tactics. You've endured a wretched existence these years."

"I..."

A burly, robust man, face likewise reddened, tried to defend himself, yet Ye Zhongming kept moving ahead.

"Fu Mei, another prodigy. By age fifteen, her Furella surpassed five thousand. Yet that wasn't your prime highlight. The true shock and expectation surrounding you lay in your command of the Star-Eye Clan's hallmark techniques. This let you topple stronger foes despite lesser might. But pride swelled within you. Amid endless triumphs and spotlight, you cultivated an arrogant demeanor, believing solo solutions sufficed for all. Hence, upon entering mature squads, teammates and officers shunned you. Moreover, in strength-focused units ignoring age, countless elders with superior power overshadowed you, eroding your belief. Desperate to close gaps via relentless drills, you overlooked 'haste makes waste' and 'excess breeds deficiency'. Extreme regimens paired with flawed approaches often sidelined you with wounds. Resuming practice pre-full recovery sparked further harm. This vicious loop stalled your advancement, lagging behind average fighters. Today, you're merely adequate, far from elite or superior!"

A Star-Eye Clan woman clad in form-fitting black battle gear huffed disdainfully, averting her gaze.

"And you, Zheng Qu. Outstanding across all battle metrics, yet cursed with a vile temperament. Wherever assigned, harmony with comrades eluded you. A superb fighter, yet scorned by every Thousand-Person Team. Without Zhong Hongke's persistent faith in your reform and lingering optimism, fellow Thousand-Person Leaders would've dragged you to the clan's court. Even then, your ire mellowed just a tad post-First Thousand-Person Team entry. Impulses still flared often, sparking teammate clashes biennially. You once maimed a comrade close to crippledom. Absent Zhong Hongke's hefty payouts and groveling appeals, you'd rot in jail or banishment now. This crushed Zhong Hongke's nurturing hopes for you entirely. He dumped you here outright."

"You..."

"Me what? Still itching for a brawl? Using that feeble might reserved for tormenting squadmates?"

Zheng Qu shot Ye Zhongming a furious stare, but Ye Zhongming fired back instantly, his right palm flashing like a bolt to seize the man's jaw.

"I'm not Zhong Hongke; I won't ignore your bad attitude anymore. Starting now, whether it's with me or anyone else, display proper respect. If not, I'll string up your dead body at the Bronze Camp gate to dry."

Ye Zhongming kept increasing the pressure. His grip was so powerful that even a Gold warrior's face in his hand would be helplessly trapped, let alone a mere Bronze one. The onlookers caught faint snapping noises too.

"As a warrior, picking fights nonstop with your life-and-death comrades—what kind of idiot are you?"

Ye Zhongming hurled the almost strangled Zheng Qu away, strode to the doorway, spun around to confront the fewer than a thousand people, and declared: "You're standing here because your old squads ditched you for all sorts of reasons. Sure, maybe some didn't do anything huge wrong, but ending up here means you weren't the top performers. You're the rejects that the Thousand-Person Leaders, following my command, selected as discards."

"Don't resent your previous captains or squad mates. The real issue is you yourselves."

"I get it—you're pissed off right now, boiling with rage, miserable inside, desperate to let it all out. That's okay; it's actually great because it proves you still hold onto your pride, still possess a spirit that refuses to quit."

"Perfect, because I feel the same way. I'm that kind of guy too, looking for folks to join me in chasing huge ambitions."

Ye Zhongming gazed down at the crowd and continued, "I bet none of you want to keep dragging through these lousy days, huh? So prove your transformation to me, and I'll give back... those dreams you never achieved."

The crowd below hung on his every word. The trustworthy reputation Ye Zhongming had built earlier made all the difference; nobody doubted his sincerity or thought he was just bragging.

"I know mere promises don't convince anyone. So let's make it a contest. You believe you're tough, superior, brilliant geniuses? Then battle these folks who were your teammates just two months back. Win, and I swear I'll ship you right back to your old squads. Lose, and you'll follow orders, train hard until I say you're ready. Then I'll slot you into the Assault Camp, where everyone else will envy you."

"Fail to impress me, and tough luck—you're out of the Masked Warriors for good."

With those words, Ye Zhongming signaled with a wave. Roughly one hundred Assault Camp fighters rushed inside. A wild melee exploded across the warehouse.