Apocalypse: I Can Upgrade Everything

Chapter 101: The Two-Headed Giant

By morning, the entire camp knew what had happened the previous night.

No one had expected Xue Nan to do something so drastic. No one had imagined he possessed such terrifying resolve.

The sight of his face—raw, everted flesh where skin had been hacked away—triggered a visceral, physiological revulsion in anyone who looked. In the past, wherever Xue Nan walked, survivors would track him with gazes filled with lust and curiosity.

Now? They couldn’t look away fast enough.

Chen Ye hadn’t anticipated the incident would have such a profound impact on the youth. From the moment Mo Huairen died, the old Xue Nan had died with him.

Chen Ye offered a single glance, then looked away. He was surprised by the kid’s ruthlessness, but he had no intention of getting entangled in his life.

Breakfast was as lavish as it got in the wasteland.

A large slab of roasted camel meat was slapped onto Chen Ye’s plate, accompanied by a bowl of thick porridge. Rare flecks of green floated on the surface—dehydrated vegetables scavenged from the slaver convoy.

Before this, no one bothered with dehydrated veggies. Now, they were a luxury exclusive to the Awakened. After going so long without greens, many people in the convoy were suffering from cracked, peeling lips.

Eating heavy, greasy meat first thing in the morning was a bit nauseating, but in this world, pickiness was a death sentence.

Since the convoy couldn’t support the camels, the animals were destined for the butcher’s block. Uncle Abao had organized a night shift to slaughter them, leaving the heavy scent of blood hanging over the camp until dawn.

Over 20 survivors had worked through the night, paid in camel meat. Another 20 were tasked with curing the meat—a difficult feat with limited salt and supplies.

This was the convoy’s ecosystem. Newcomers received a small stipend from Captain Chu Che to get started; after that, you worked, or you starved. It was cold, but it was fair.

Consequently, the air was thick with the aroma of roasting meat, and many survivors wore rare smiles of contentment.

“Yawn…”

“Morning, Yezi.”

Sun Qianqian shuffled over, yawning as she grabbed her food. The pink-haired girl had slept like a log, completely missing the murder in Xue Nan’s tent.

“Morning,” Chen Ye mumbled around a mouthful of meat.

Captain Chu Che emerged from his tent a moment later, looking like he hadn’t slept at all. He stared at the food with weary eyes.

“Auntie Qu… roasted camel again? Is there nothing else?”

Auntie Qu, the convoy’s head cook, looked embarrassed. “Captain, I could boil you some noodles?”

Because she cooked for the core team, Auntie Qu had risen to the status of a minor VIP in the camp. She lived better than most.

“Captain, look at you,” Chen Ye teased, gnawing on a rib. “Living the high life. Turning your nose up at meat?”

Chu Che waved a dismissive hand. “Forget it. This is fine. Let’s eat and hit the road.”

Chen Ye winced, rubbing his teeth with his tongue. In Chinese, “hit the road” (shanglu) was often a euphemism for dying. Hearing it over breakfast felt like a bad omen.

“Captain Chu,” Chen Ye asked, changing the subject. ” how do you plan to find this water source?”

Chu Che frowned, his expression darkening. “It won’t be easy. The sandstorm shifted the terrain, and Old Man Mo’s map is blurry at best. We can only try our luck.”

The mood at the table grew heavy. Life seemed decent right now—bellies full of meat—but without water, they were all dead men walking.

After the storm, the original convoy had been whittled down to less than 30 people. With the absorption of the slaver’s captives, their numbers had swelled to nearly a hundred. The pressure on their water reserves was catastrophic.

The unspoken truth hung in the air: The convoy had already decided to cut the dead weight.

If water wasn’t found soon, the ordinary survivors—people like Xue Nan—would be abandoned. Only those in the core vehicles were safe. Trying to save everyone would only result in everyone dying of thirst.

“Hehe… hey guys. Long time no see!”

Just as the conversation hit its grim peak, a familiar, booming voice echoed in their ears.

Before Chen Ye could turn, a scream shattered the morning calm.

“Ghost! A ghost!”

Auntie Qu shrieked, dropping Chu Che’s plate into the sand. She trembled violently, pointing a shaking finger.

Chen Ye spun around.

A massive silhouette blocked out the morning sun. The body was like a wall—towering, broad, and terrifyingly sturdy.

But atop that mountain of muscle sat two heads.

One head was slumped forward, eyes closed in deep sleep. The other head wore a silly, warm, incredibly familiar smile.

“Holy shit…” Chen Ye’s jaw dropped. “Iron Lion? You… you…”

He was genuinely shaken. Chu Che had mentioned that the Titan Sequence had a branch called the “Two-Headed Giant,” but hearing about it and seeing it in the flesh were two very different things.

Next to him, Sun Qianqian’s hand flew to her sword hilt, but she froze, staring with her mouth agape. After a long pause, she rushed forward and slapped the giant’s arm hard.

“You big dummy!” she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re finally back!”

Iron Lion’s resurrection caused a shockwave through the camp, far eclipsing the stir caused by Xue Nan’s disfigurement.

When the survivors saw the two-headed monstrosity, their first instinct was primal terror. Then came curiosity, awe, and unease. This was the price of power? This was what a Sequence 2 looked like?

For Chen Ye and the team, however, there was only relief.

Auntie Qu’s hands shook as she served the giant a fresh portion of breakfast.

“Damn, kid,” Chen Ye said, exhaling smoke. “I thought you were dead for sure.”

“Chu Che said you were undergoing an Awakening for the Two-Headed Giant branch. Said if you didn’t pull through, you’d be buried alive.”

“Hehe… I know,” the awake head—Iron Lion—chuckled. “Mad Lion told me everything.”

According to Iron Lion, the process should have taken days. But the massive intake of high-energy Titan camel meat the previous night had fueled his Titan physique, accelerating the regeneration. He had grown the second head ahead of schedule.

Once again, the team marveled at the terrifying resilience of the Titan Sequence.

Iron Lion answered their questions freely. Unless it was a secret he hadn’t figured out himself, he hid nothing.

The reunion turned an ordinary breakfast into a celebration. They ate and talked for half an hour before the cleanup crew moved in.

Several nimble women approached to clear the plates. Before the apocalypse, they might have been CEO’s wives, corporate executives, or homemakers. Now, they were just survivors fighting for a job.

Washing dishes in the desert was a unique process. They tossed the greasy plates into a pile of sand, scrubbing them until the abrasive grains absorbed the oil. A sand-washed plate looked surprisingly clean. The final step was a quick wipe with a damp towel to remove the grit.

These women, too, earned their keep from Uncle Abao.

Breakfast over, Chen Ye stuck a cigarette in his mouth and headed back to his truck.

He stopped in his tracks.

His Doomsday Pickup, which had been caked in layers of desert grime and dried blood when he parked it last night, was clean.

Well, “clean” was relative in a desert, but the dust had been wiped away, and the windows shone.

Standing nervously by the driver’s door was Xue Nan.

The “ugly man” wore clothes so filthy their original color was lost to history. His hair was hacked short, and his face was a ruin of scabs and fresh, bleeding lacerations where the skin had split overnight.

He looked at Chen Ye with terrified eyes, trembling slightly, as if afraid his work wasn’t good enough.

Chen Ye stared at him. He noticed a fresh trickle of blood running down Xue Nan’s cheek from the exertion.

Chen Ye didn’t say a word. He reached into the truck, grabbed a sealed 550ml bottle of mineral water, and tossed it through the air.

Xue Nan caught it, fumbling. When he realized what he was holding—a full bottle of clear, clean water—his eyes instantly reddened.

In the desert, this was a fortune. A king’s ransom.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Chen Ye cut him off with a dismissive wave.

“Go.”

Xue Nan shot him a look of profound gratitude, clutched the bottle to his chest, and hurried away.

Chen Ye climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door.

That bottle of water was the limit of his mercy. He wouldn’t offer protection, and he wouldn’t offer friendship. Whether the kid survived the hell that was coming depended entirely on his own fate.