Apocalypse: I Can Upgrade Everything

Chapter 196: The Massive Convoy

According to the convoy’s distribution protocols, the “finders keepers” rule generally applied. However, when two or more members cooperated, the spoils were divided based on the scale of their contributions. There was one constant exception: the Guide. As long as a Guide was present, they were entitled to a guaranteed cut of the supplies.

Consequently, the four Artifact firearms were split evenly between Chen Ye and Chu Che.

Since the value of the weapons varied significantly, Chu Che proposed a compromise. He divided the four guns into two balanced lots. The first lot paired the top-ranked Burst Star with the bottom-ranked Fatal Sniper. The second lot combined the mid-tier options: Silent Disappearance and Bone-Eroding Six Eyes.

Whoever wanted which specific gun would have to negotiate later. Chen Ye had no objections.

The method of deciding who picked first was a classic survivalist tradition: Rock-Paper-Scissors. Best of three.

Chu Che won the rounds and promptly selected the lot containing Silent Disappearance and Bone-Eroding Six Eyes. This left Chen Ye with Burst Star and Fatal Sniper.

The outcome worked well for both parties. Chu Che was naturally suited for the stealth capabilities of Silent Disappearance, while Iron Lion had already pulled the Captain aside to discuss trading for the Bone-Eroding Six Eyes.

Chen Ye looked down at the Burst Star, a flicker of genuine satisfaction in his eyes. This marked his third true Artifact—excluding his left eye, of course. The Blood Eye was currently nothing more than a “reserve” Artifact, a parasitic entity waiting for its turn.

He tucked the Burst Star into his waistband and picked up the Fatal Sniper, turning his gaze toward Ding Dong and the pink-haired girl.

He didn’t want the Fatal Sniper. The cost of use was, quite frankly, repulsive.

To those who had never suffered from the affliction, the term “hemorrhoids” might sound like a minor inconvenience. To those who had, it was a lifelong shadow. In a post-apocalyptic theater where every ounce of mobility dictated the line between life and death, such a clinical curse was a catastrophic liability. Constant physiological distress was the last thing one needed when fleeing an Anomaly.

However, the drawback didn’t change the fact that it was a magnificent weapon. In the hands of a dedicated marksman who prioritized lethality over personal comfort, it could produce a kill count that far exceeded its numerical ranking.

Chen Ye looked at the two women with hopeful, predatory eyes.

The pink-haired girl’s expression was as dark as a thundercloud. It was clear that if Chen Ye uttered a single syllable of nonsense, she would turn hostile instantly.

Playing it safe, Chen Ye shifted his focus to Ding Dong. She was far more mature than the teenager and didn’t flush crimson at the mere mention of sensitive topics. He had heard rumors that Ding Dong had been married before the world ended, giving her a much higher tolerance for crude reality.

“Sister Ding Dong, why don’t you take a look at this beauty?” Chen Ye suggested. “You’ve only got one arm left. A high-caliber rifle would significantly boost your combat effectiveness, wouldn’t it?”

Ding Dong offered a faint, knowing smile and shook her head. “I’ll pass on that one. Now, if you’re willing to part with the Burst Star, I might be inclined to trade.”

“Trade the Burst Star?” Chen Ye scoffed. He could find a use for that pistol himself; there was no chance he was handing it back.

He wasn’t ready to give up on the sale yet. “Sister Ding Dong, look at it this way—hemorrhoids are a statistical inevitability. Haven’t you heard the saying? Nine out of ten women eventually suffer from them anyway. I’ll give you a discount. Just give me your share of the cigarettes from the last haul, plus a few bags of rice and flour, and it’s yours.”

Ding Dong stood up, her smile widening. “The saying I heard was nine out of ten men. Don’t set your sights on me, kid. Didn’t Captain Chu mention it? We’re going to cross paths with other convoys soon. You can pawn that gun off on them.”

As she spoke, Chu Che turned away from Iron Lion. Their transaction had been swift; Chu Che hadn’t played the “greedy merchant” role, settling for a symbolic exchange of supplies. In truth, he had wanted to gift the Bone-Eroding Six Eyes to Iron Lion outright, but the Fairness Convoy had strict protocols. As the Captain, he had established the rules of equity; he couldn’t be the one to break them.

“Don’t head off to bed just yet,” Chu Che called out, gathering everyone’s attention. “There’s one more thing. We’re likely to encounter other survivor convoys in the coming days. It’ll be a prime opportunity to exchange intel and trade away any surplus gear.”

“Captain, how many days are we talking?” the pink-haired girl asked impatiently. “And how big is this group?” She was clearly tired of seeing the same five faces every single day.

“The exact timing is up to fate. Could be tomorrow, could be ten days from now,” Chu Che replied. “As for their size? This survivor group is larger than anything we’ve seen. According to the radio pings, their convoy numbers over a thousand people.”

“Over a thousand? That many?”

The group fell into a stunned silence.

In this ravaged world, a thousand people moving together was like a roaring bonfire in the dead of night. Every Anomaly within ten miles would sense their presence. A convoy of that magnitude implied a terrifying level of military or supernatural strength.

Numbers were a direct reflection of power. The Fairness Convoy’s upper limit was roughly a hundred people. Anything beyond that, and the risk of attracting a world-ending Anomaly increased exponentially. To sustain a thousand survivors, their Guide’s level had to be astronomical.

“Captain, is that intel solid?”

“It’s accurate. So, everyone needs to be on high alert.”

Chu Che spent the next few minutes outlining the protocols for the encounter, specifically warning Chen Ye not to act rashly. Chen Ye maintained a look of offended innocence, claiming he had always been “well-behaved” and that his previous “incidents” were merely proactive resource management.

By the time they left the campfire, the sky was a velvet tapestry of stars. The air was crisp and remarkably fresh, filled with the rhythmic calls of unknown birds and the chirping of insects.

The lake surface acted as a flawless mirror, reflecting the blood-red moon and the starlight in its depths. Far out on the water, tiny flickers of light danced across the ripples.

Before the apocalypse, such a vista would have been cordoned off as a premium tourist trap. Some developer would have built a ten-foot wall around the perimeter and charged three hundred dollars a head just for a glimpse.

For the first time, Chen Ye felt that the Blood Moon wasn’t entirely terrifying. Perhaps it was the familiarity born of long-term exposure, or perhaps the campsite’s scenery was simply that stunning.

He tossed the Fatal Sniper into the carriage, kept the Burst Star tucked at his hip, and walked down to the water’s edge. Xue Nan followed silently, placing a folding chair behind him. Chen Ye sat without a word, staring at the luminous lake.

The post-apocalyptic world was a strange place. In some areas, the warped reality created landscapes that looked like high-fidelity assets from a video game. He realized then that the lights on the water weren’t reflections—they were butterflies. Massive, bioluminescent insects fluttering over the surface.

He was certain such creatures hadn’t existed before the Fall. Or if they had, they certainly didn’t glow like that.

“Still wearing sunglasses in the middle of the night? Trying a bit hard to look cool, aren’t we?”

A familiar, sharp voice drifted from his side. Xue Nan quickly produced a second chair. The pink-haired girl sat down, though she pointedly dragged the chair a few feet further away from Chen Ye.

Chen Ye didn’t bother answering. He simply lit a cigarette, the cherry-red tip glowing in the dark.

“Can you even see anything through those lenses?” She looked at the shades with genuine curiosity, reaching out and snatching them right off his face.

Without the glasses, Chen Ye’s Blood Eye and the jagged, empty socket beside it were exposed to the moonlight. They looked horrific—monstrous.

The girl tried the sunglasses on, frowned at the tint, and tossed them back into his lap with a look of disdain.

“Hey,” Chen Ye grumbled, sliding the glasses back on. “Taking without asking is theft. Ever heard of manners?”

As time passed, the left eye was becoming more integrated with his nervous system. Whenever he had a spare moment, Chen Ye would circulate his supernatural energy, attempting to find a resonant frequency with the Blood Eye. Progress was glacial, but it was there. The sunglasses helped; even at night, they didn’t hinder his vision much, though they didn’t exactly grant him eagle eyes either.

“Sister Fang said you were a ‘good person,’” the girl said, plopping back into her chair and staring up at the stars. “She must be delusional.”

“Who the hell is Sister Fang?”

“Sister Fang? The pregnant woman you saved back then. Ring a bell, ‘hero’?”