Seeing the System display a balance of over thirty thousand Slaughter Points, Chen Ye felt his entire world brighten. Even the crimson blood moon hanging high in the night sky seemed festive, like a lantern at a celebration.

Thirty thousand points.

That was enough to force a massive leap in capability.

Whether he chose to modify and upgrade his vehicle or enhance his own personal strength, he finally had the capital to do it.

He had lived through enough days of poverty, scraping by for every single point.

As for the ten thousand points he still owed the System? Chen Ye had no intention of paying it back anytime soon.

Let the debt sit there. What was the System going to do? Kill him?

He had plans. Big plans.

There was the Potion Capsule Captain Chu had mentioned…

There was the upgrade for the Blood Resentment Machete…

He wanted it all.

Speaking of the Machete…

Chen Ye recalled the moment the Human-Faced Scorpion died. He had clearly seen a wisp of gray mist drift from the carcass and vanish into the blade.

The Blood Resentment Machete’s third characteristic allowed it to absorb resentment, accumulating power to trigger a qualitative change. He hadn’t had a chance to inspect it until now.

Chen Ye drew the Heavy Machete from his waist.

Under the eerie red moonlight, he brought the blade close to his right eye.

At first glance, the weapon looked the same—a brutal, rusted slab of iron.

But no…

Something had changed.

A new, subtle dark grain had appeared within the existing patterns on the blade. If not for his enhanced vision, he would have missed it entirely.

He ran a finger along the edge. It was cold, biting deep into his senses.

The item details surfaced in his mind.

[Blood Resentment Machete] [Serial Number: 04880]

4880?

The serial number had advanced? It had moved up the rankings?

This…

This works too?

Chen Ye suddenly realized that among all the Artifact materials he possessed, the Resentment-Binding Willow branch was likely the most underestimated.

Even a sliver of the Willow’s characteristics was enough to significantly boost the Machete’s potential. If he ever got the chance, a return trip to Longevity Village might be worth the risk.

Satisfied, he slid the Machete back into its sheath.

Not far away, a bonfire crackled to life.

Captain Chu Che waved at him from across the camp. Beside him, the pink-haired girl gave a lazy, drunken salute.

Dinner time.

Chen Ye swayed over to his pickup. He climbed into the back seat of the cab, grabbing a bag of flour. After a moment of hesitation, he pulled out the remaining slab of cured meat he had been hoarding.

This meat had been sitting in his car for days.

His own cooking skills were tragic, and he had been too afraid of ruining such luxury food to cook it himself. But now that there was a professional chef on hand, he didn’t mind sharing.

Better to eat it now than let it spoil, though the curing process had kept it safe so far.

He drew the Blood Resentment Machete.

Whack!

With a clean, surgical strike, Chen Ye split the cured meat in two. He wrapped the larger portion back up and carried the smaller piece in his hand.

From start to finish, not a single drop of grease or speck of meat stuck to the blade.

If Chu Che knew Chen Ye was using a terrifying Cursed Artifact as a kitchen knife, the man would probably jump up and curse him out of sheer indignation.

Finally, Chen Ye rummaged up some potatoes from the back seat.

Cigarette dangling from his lips, he ambled toward the fire.

Along the way, the eyes of the other survivors glued themselves to the Supplies in his hands. Throats bobbed as they swallowed dry saliva.

Meat. Even if it was just preserved bacon, most of them hadn’t tasted animal protein in weeks.

“Uncle Abao, this is my contribution.”

Chen Ye handed the supplies over.

Seeing the flour and the meat, Uncle Abao’s eyes crinkled into crescent moons, his face lighting up with a brilliant smile.

“Good, good! Don’t worry, I’ll keep track of it all!”

There was another bag nearby, evidently brought by the pink-haired girl.

“If you aren’t active about eating, there’s something wrong with your brain!”

Nana raised a beer can in a toast, teasing him.

Chen Ye ignored the jab, taking a seat by the fire. “How much have you had? You’re already slurring.”

Nana’s face was flushed a deep crimson. “Hehe… just one can!”

“One can? Are you kidding me?”

Chen Ye was genuinely surprised. The girl’s tolerance was abysmal.

No wonder she always had alcohol on hand; a single six-pack probably lasted her a month. Back in college, Chen Ye had roommates who wouldn’t even feel a buzz until they were half a case deep.

For a supposed badass, her liver was pathetic. It was an insult to drunkards everywhere.

“Who says you can’t like drinking just because you’re bad at it?” Nana argued stubbornly.

“She loves the taste,” Chu Che explained from the side, “but her body can’t handle the alcohol.”

Chen Ye shrugged. “As long as you’re happy.”

“Iron Lion is still out cold. He won’t wake up anytime soon, so it’s just the three of us tonight,” Chu Che said. “This is Auntie Qu. Her skills are excellent. I’ve tested them. From now on, she’ll handle our meals.”

A middle-aged woman looked up from the pot and gave Chen Ye a polite, gentle smile.

She was around fifty. Though her clothes were worn and she looked a bit unkempt from the desert travel, her demeanor was undeniably refined. There was an air of grace about her that didn’t fit a refugee camp.

Chen Ye nodded, feeling a spark of recognition.

Noticing his gaze, Chu Che whispered, “Auntie Qu used to run a massive restaurant chain. With her at the helm, we’re in for a treat.”

That explains it.

Chen Ye remembered now. Her life story was practically legendary—a self-made billionaire who started with a street stall and built a culinary empire. She was a famous inspirational figure who had appeared on several variety shows.

He never expected a celebrity CEO to end up as their exclusive wasteland chef.

The apocalypse really did level the playing field.

“Sigh… that was a lifetime ago,” Auntie Qu said softly, catching the drift of their conversation. “Just being alive is enough now.”

Her eyes held a profound, quiet helplessness.

Once the food was ready, she served them and silently withdrew.

The meal was spectacular. Even with simple ingredients, the flavor was leagues ahead of anything Chen Ye could produce.

They demolished the food in thirty minutes. They didn’t even spare the broth at the bottom of the pot.

Not far away, the ordinary survivors slurped their thin potato gruel, eyes fixed on the Beyonders’ circle.

After the sandstorm, rations had been cut. They were barely maintaining sustenance levels.

But no one complained.

Today, they had witnessed the horror of the Human-Faced Anomaly. If they had been alone, the Scorpion would have devoured every last one of them. The gap between ordinary humans and Sequence Beyonders had never been clearer.

Xu Lina stared at the few chunks of potato in her bowl, then at the feast by the fire.

The scent of savory meat wafted over, scratching at her heart like a cat’s claws. It was an itch she couldn’t scratch, a hunger that went beyond her stomach.

She had never cared this much about food before.

But now… if Chen Ye offered her a single piece of meat, she would move into his pickup truck without a second thought.

Lina, just keep trying, she told herself. You can definitely move him. Don’t give up.

She downed her porridge in one gulp, her eyes hardening with resolve.

Chen Ye finished eating and reached for a cigarette to cut the grease, only to realize he’d left his pack in the car.

Whoosh.

Chu Che tossed a pack of cigarettes over.

“My car’s acting up. Take a look at it for me?”

It was probably just sand in the filters or the intake. An easy fix.

Before Chen Ye could answer, the pink-haired girl tossed a pack of Tazi cigarettes at him.

“Check mine too!”

Two packs of premium smokes in the blink of an eye. Chen Ye’s eyes crinkled into a smile.

“No problem. I’ll get to it after I digest.”

Burp!

Nana tilted her beer can back, draining the very last drop. She crushed the aluminum into a ball and hurled it into the darkness.

Then, she pulled out another can—a large 500ml one.

“Hey,” Chen Ye asked, eyeing the can. “Can you actually handle that?”

If it were anyone else, he wouldn’t care. But Nana was the convoy’s top combatant. She still had value.

“None of your damn business! I want to drink!”

She cracked the tab and downed half the can in one breath, her blurry eyes glaring at him.

Her words were full of gunpowder, aggressive and sharp.

But coming from her, in that slurring tone, it sounded less like a threat and more like a sticky, resentful whine.

Chen Ye rubbed his nose. He couldn’t bring himself to be angry.

She was just a teenage girl, after all. He was an adult who had been an adult for a long time.

“Forget it. Drink slowly. I’m going to sleep.”

“Yawn… I’m sleepy too…”

In truth, Chen Ye wasn’t sleepy at all.

He was wide awake, his mind racing with calculations on how to spend his massive fortune of Slaughter Points.