Chapter 105: Number 2899

In the wake of the Sky Whale’s departure, a feverish buzz swept through the camp.

For the ordinary survivors, it was a day of incomprehensible miracles. They didn’t know what the creature was, nor did they know its name. They only knew they had witnessed a leviathan swimming through the clouds.

The Transcendents, aloof and secretive, offered no explanations.

Even in a convoy this small, the divide between the awakened and the ordinary had become a chasm. The strong hoarded information like water, while the weak were left to guess in the dark.

Chen Ye watched this polarization with a detached, cold gaze before checking his interface again.

[05:12:43]

Five hours until the upgrade was complete.

Compared to previous modifications, Chen Ye felt a distinct thrum of anticipation for this one.

This vehicle had started as a humble bicycle, evolved into a tricycle, then a pickup, and was now on the verge of becoming an Artifact. Aside from Chen Ye himself, no one knew the sheer amount of blood, sweat, and Slaughter Points he had poured into this machine.

He had considered swapping vehicles during the journey.

But they had traveled through desolate wastelands where even ghosts were rare, let alone functioning cars. To avoid Anomalies, Chu Che had led them through the most barren, inhospitable routes imaginable.

So, Chen Ye had stuck with his franken-truck, building it up piece by piece.

“Mr. Chen, the banquet is about to begin. Would you like me to wipe down the car for you?”

Xue Nan bowed deeply, his posture oozing servility.

Today was January 1st, 2031. The first day of a new year in the apocalypse.

Uncle Abao had decided to hold a New Year’s celebration for the convoy. The highlight: a ration of camel meat for every survivor.

Since the announcement, the camp had been buzzing with hunger and excitement.

Camel meat was the one thing they weren’t lacking. Despite slaughtering several for the journey, the herd was still sizable. Remarkably, the convoy hadn’t given the camels a drop of water or a scrap of food since acquiring them—water was too precious for beasts—yet none had died. They were listless, sure, but alive.

Ding Dong had explained that camels could survive fifteen to thirty days in extreme conditions without sustenance. Some freakishly resilient specimens could last two months.

These mutated beasts were clearly even tougher.

Chen Ye clicked his tongue in amazement. Humans really were the most fragile things on this planet.

The evening banquet was a lively affair.

The portions were small, but the taste of meat ignited a primal joy in the survivors. White mist puffed from their mouths in the freezing night air, but the cold couldn’t dampen the fire of their enthusiasm.

To Chen Ye’s surprise, the convoy was hiding some talent.

Xu Lina, for instance, turned out to be an exceptional dancer.

Without music, she moved with a rhythm that was all her own—graceful, sultry, and incredibly alluring.

She had prepared for this moment, her clothes meticulously arranged to highlight every curve. Her performance was a calculated display, aimed squarely at Chen Ye.

The surrounding men watched with hungry eyes, swallowing hard, their gazes practically glued to her body.

But Xu Lina ignored them all. Her eyes were locked on Chen Ye, cold and focused.

Chen Ye remained unmoved.

He knew exactly what she was doing. Before the apocalypse or after it, people with resources attracted attention. It didn’t matter if you were a man or a woman. Even Ding Dong, with her plain looks, had been pestered by bold suitors until she beat one of them half to death.

Xu Lina, however, was untouchable.

A rumor had taken root in the convoy: Xu Lina is Chen Ye’s woman.

That single sentence was a more effective shield than any weapon. It forced every man with lecherous thoughts to keep his distance.

As for why Chen Ye’s “woman” lived on the school bus instead of his pickup? People speculated. They whispered. But no one dared to ask.

Chen Ye had to admit, though—her dancing was stunning.

He didn’t know that Xu Lina had learned dance as an adult, paying for professional lessons with her own hard-earned money. Her teacher had once told her that if she had started younger, she could have gone pro.

Now, seeing Chen Ye’s gaze linger on her, Xu Lina felt her investment had finally paid off.

She presented herself as the prey, dancing for his amusement.

But in reality, Chen Ye was the prey. Xu Lina was the hunter, and her charm was the shotgun.

Then came Zhou Xiaoxiao.

When the former pop star’s sister began to sing, the crowd fell silent. The newcomers looked at her with awe, but upon learning she had offended Chen Ye, the spark of interest in their eyes was instantly extinguished.

Why are the best-looking women in this convoy all tied to Chen Ye? the survivors muttered to themselves.

Of course, they only dared to think it.

The rest of the performances were mediocre—people just joining in the fun. Chen Ye lost interest and focused solely on his internal countdown.

Two hours left.

The banquet ended, and Chen Ye returned to his tent alone.

Xue Nan had cleaned the pickup until it shone. Every speck of dust on the exterior and inside the cockpit had been wiped away with his own tattered clothes. He had even set up Chen Ye’s tent.

Chen Ye tossed a piece of camel jerky at him. Xue Nan caught it, his face twisted in tearful gratitude, and scurried away.

One hour left.

Chen Ye sat at the entrance of his tent, the flap rolled up. The bloody moonlight spilled inside, illuminating his face.

He closed his eyes and began cultivating the Blood Moon Breathing Technique.

Strands of crimson light drifted down from the sky, resonating with his breath, pulling into his body.

He didn’t know how much time had passed.

Suddenly, Chen Ye’s eyes snapped open.

A flash of delight crossed his face as he turned to the pickup truck beside him.

At first glance, it didn’t look drastically different. It was still the same battered, apocalypse-hardened vehicle.

But the white bone frame in the truck bed was gone.

In its place, a massive, matte-black heavy-duty bumper wrapped around the front, extending all the way to the undercarriage.

A bull bar. Also known as a “cow catcher” or “push bar.”

Chen Ye hadn’t expected this. When he confirmed the upgrade, he had been half-asleep and ignored the specifics.

In the old world, these bars were controversial—dangerous to pedestrians and other cars in a crash. But in the apocalypse? This was a godsend. It was a battering ram.

If an Anomaly blocked the road now, Chen Ye wouldn’t need to brake. He could floor it.

The entire chassis had been lifted, giving the truck a towering, aggressive stance. It sat higher than even Chu Che’s modified off-roader.

It looked like a beast.

Chen Ye immediately opened the System interface to check the stats.

[Artifact Name: Doomsday Pickup] [Number: 2899]

Chen Ye smirked. The name he had jokingly given it was now official.

Ranked 2899.

Excluding Chu Che’s Eavesdropping Radio (Number 100+), Chen Ye’s pickup was the highest-ranked Artifact in the convoy, beating out Sun Qianqian’s sword.

He scrolled down to the abilities.

[Ability 1: Optimus Prime] Provides a significant boost to the vehicle’s structural integrity, overall performance, impact resistance, and fuel economy.

Chen Ye grinned. “Significant boost” was vague, but for an Artifact, it meant defying physics. A simple chassis reinforcement shouldn’t improve fuel economy, but here, logic didn’t apply.

[Ability 2: Unstoppable Force] Impact is this vehicle’s best friend. When facing danger, do not brake. Step on the accelerator and crush it.

Exactly as he thought. That bull bar wasn’t for decoration.

[Ability 3: Shadow Drag] The vehicle can extend shadow chains from its undercarriage to bind a target creature, dragging it underneath to be crushed, processed, and converted into fuel.

Chen Ye’s eyes lit up. This was the jackpot.

Combat capability and a solution to the fuel crisis?

Fuel had always been his biggest headache. Now, his truck could eat monsters and turn them into gas. Even if the conversion rate wasn’t 100%, alleviating the shortage was a massive strategic advantage. Plus, the truck still had its electric motor as a backup.

With this ability alone, the truck deserved its ranking.

He scrolled down to the costs. Artifacts always had a price.

[Cost: Blood Sacrifice] Must sacrifice one fresh life to the vehicle every month. Humans are preferred.

[Taboo 1: Gluttony] Do not eat or drink inside the vehicle. Violation risks the user being devoured by the vehicle.

[Taboo 2: Purity] No smell of blood is allowed inside the cabin. The user must not be injured while inside. Violation risks the user being devoured by the vehicle.

[Taboo 3: Rebellion] If combat becomes too intense or the vehicle takes critical damage, there is a risk of the Artifact defecting or turning on its owner.

Chen Ye frowned.

The costs were steep. Perverse, even.

Not eating or drinking was annoying but manageable. But not getting injured? In the apocalypse? That was impossible. The car was supposed to be a sanctuary; if he got hurt in a fight and tried to flee, his own getaway vehicle might try to eat him.

Was this a reverse upgrade? A cursed item?

Then, his eyes fell on the final line of small text at the bottom.

[Note: Because you are Chen Ye, you may ignore all Costs and Taboos.] [You have absolute control over this vehicle.]