Chen Ye quickly grasped the survival laws of this convoy.

While Sequence Beyonders held the power, ordinary people still made up the vast majority of the group. However, their capabilities were limited; most had barely scraped by and possessed nothing of value. Trying to trade for high-quality goods from them was an exercise in futility.

The only viable trading partners were the Sequence Beyonders before him.

The convoy’s leader was naturally Chu Che, of the Pathfinder Sequence. It was said that Beyonders of this sequence were born leaders, yet his management style mirrored his personality: loose and unstructured.

Chu Che had only one requirement for the convoy: fairness.

Whether it was Chu Che himself or the most common survivor, if anyone wanted supplies, they had to either go out and scavenge for them or offer something of equal value in exchange. It was just like the transaction Chen Ye had witnessed the previous night, where someone crawled into another’s tent; as long as one could pay the price, they could survive.

Chen Ye had no objections to this. In the backdrop of the apocalypse, finding someone who still adhered to the concept of fairness was rare enough.

Seemingly to welcome Chen Ye, the newly joined Sequence Beyonder, Chu Che, Nana, and the wounded giant—who was recovering in the bus—organized a small-scale material exchange. Many had escaped from Apricot Blossom Town the previous day, securing varying amounts of supplies. This market was the perfect opportunity to maximize the value of those gains.

There were no special rules for the exchange; mutual consent was the only law. The market was scheduled to last exactly two hours. Once time was up, they had to hit the road.

For the survivors who lived in a constant state of high-strung terror, this brief reprieve was like a spring rain breaking a long drought. Rare smiles appeared on many faces.

The trunks of the vehicles were thrown open. The occupants hauled out their stockpiles and laid them out for display. Chen Ye followed suit, arranging the goods from his motorized tricycle—though, naturally, he kept his stash of cigarettes well hidden. These were not for trading.

Aside from Chen Ye’s tricycle and a smattering of motorcycles and bicycles, the convoy possessed four four-wheeled vehicles: Chu Che’s and Nana’s modified off-roaders, the bus belonging to the Titan Sequence giant, and a small sedan.

The sedan turned out to be the property of the convoy’s legendary female celebrity.

Chen Ye spotted her immediately. She was a woman in her early twenties, dressed simply in jeans and a white shirt. Her long hair was well-maintained, a luxury in these times. Her delicate features were striking even without makeup, giving off a comfortable, aesthetic vibe. She looked familiar, though Chen Ye couldn’t quite place the name.

“Hello, I’m Zhou Lan. Nice to meet you,” she said, approaching him.

Hearing the name, realization dawned on Chen Ye. “Chen Ye. I’ve seen your work. It’s very good.”

“Thank you,” she smiled politely. “I heard you have some women’s clothing. May I take a look?”

While she browsed, Chen Ye turned his attention to the open trunks of the two off-roaders.

Chu Che’s trunk was nearly half-filled with expired biscuits and cola—enough to ensure he wouldn’t go hungry in the short term. But tucked away in the corner, Chen Ye spotted something he had wanted for a long time: a foldable solar charging panel.

In the old world, this was essential gear for hikers venturing deep into the mountains. When phones and cameras died, this panel was a lifeline. If it fell into Chen Ye’s hands, he could use the system to upgrade it, potentially turning it into an infinite energy source for an electric vehicle.

Unfortunately, what Chen Ye needed right now wasn’t electricity, but gasoline.

Chu Che’s stash also included a significant amount of specialized outdoor clothing—windbreakers, fleece jackets, and quick-dry shirts. It was clear he had targeted these items specifically; in the apocalypse, functionality reigned supreme.

There were also two large barrels of gasoline.

Chen Ye noticed some strange animal pelts piled to one side. One blood-red pelt, in particular, caught his eye.

“I found that pelt while escaping Jiang City,” Chu Che said, noticing Chen Ye’s gaze. “I don’t know what it does, so if you’re interested, I can give you a discount. Just give me that bag of rice you have.”

Chen Ye blinked. Chu Che was eyeing his rice. Trading a bag of life-sustaining grain for a pelt of unknown utility? That was impossible.

Chen Ye politely refused.

“Tsk, stingy,” Chu Che grumbled. “Fine, how about giving me two cartons of Huazi cigarettes instead?”

Chen Ye stared at him. The lion really opens its mouth wide, he thought. He decided not to take this black-hearted captain too seriously.

“Stingy yourself,” Chen Ye retorted. He pointed at the fuel. “How much for the gasoline?”

Chu Che rubbed his chin, calculating. “One box of instant noodles, ten Snickers bars, and five catties of rice.”

Chen Ye frowned in thought. The price was steep. He decided to shop around; Chu Che wasn’t the only one with fuel.

He moved on to Nana’s trunk.

The off-roader’s storage was spacious, but at least a third of it was stuffed with various clothes. The food consisted mostly of snacks, primarily instant noodles. There were also several packages of well-sealed cured meat, though their expiration status was a mystery.

What stood out were several handheld gaming consoles.

“Chen Ye, look! These are the latest models,” Nana said excitedly, holding one up. “What do you say? Do you want them? I can give you a deal. Just trade me that bag of flour you have.”

Chen Ye had zero interest. It was the apocalypse; who had time to play games? His gaze shifted to the weapons inside the vehicle—several knives, both long and short.

“I found these in a villa a while back,” Nana said, following his gaze. “If you want one, I can give you a discount. How about that long knife for ten catties of flour?”

Chen Ye looked at her incredulously. “Ten catties? Why don’t you just rob me directly?”

He pointed to the fuel cans in her car. “How much for the gasoline?”

“Twenty catties of rice!”

Chen Ye turned and walked away without a word.

Finally, he arrived at the bus’s supply station.

The bus held the largest quantity of goods. This wasn’t just the Titan’s hoard; it included items belonging to the other passengers on the bus. A crowd had gathered around the stall, browsing through the chaotic assortment.

There was food—rare canned beef and fish, alongside the usual instant noodles—but also baseball bats, underwear, toilet paper, and even a box of unopened Apple iPhones and laptops. Useless bricks in this new world.

Chen Ye saw a high-capacity outdoor power bank, the kind used for glamping, capable of storing two kilowatt-hours of electricity. Before the end, these cost thousands. Now, with no way to charge it, it was just a heavy paperweight.

There were rice cookers and microwaves, also useless.

But then, Chen Ye saw it. The thing he actually needed.

It was a comprehensive repair toolset. Screwdrivers, socket bits, wrenches of various sizes—everything required for mechanical work.

When he had upgraded the motorcycle-tricycle hybrid, the system had charged him extra Slaughter Points specifically because he lacked the tools to disassemble the parts himself. Now that he had been branded with the “Mechanic Sequence,” walking around without a toolset was simply unacceptable.

“Mr. Chen, have you taken a liking to this set?”

A balding man in his thirties, wearing glasses, stepped forward with an ingratiating smile.

“Since Mr. Chen is of the Mechanic Sequence, having this set of tools would certainly allow you to get twice the result with half the effort.” The man rubbed his hands together. “If Mr. Chen wants it, we can offer a cheaper price.”

Chen Ye considered it. “How do you plan to trade?”

“Ten catties of rice, or two boxes of instant noodles!” the man proposed, watching Chen Ye’s face closely. “How about it?”