Apocalypse: I Can Upgrade Everything

Chapter 123: Do Not Believe His Words

“Chu Che, look. This school is the main stronghold of our Death God Church.”

Wu Jianshan gestured grandly toward the snow-covered campus. “This holy ground enshrines the true God of our Church. You will see Her soon.”

“As long as you remain within the school grounds, you are safe. This is the Death God’s domain.”

Chu Che barely heard Wu Jianshan’s propaganda. His eyes were darting frantically around the perimeter, searching.

If a Pathfinder left a warning here, there must be more. There has to be.

The convoy crawled toward the school gates through the blinding whiteout.

Dusk was falling, casting a sickly yellow pallor over the world. The temperature plummeted, the air growing so cold it felt like inhaling broken glass. Even inside their heavy down jackets, the survivors shivered, their breath puffing out in thick white clouds that froze instantly.

Yet, the figures standing at the gate—dozens of them in thin black robes—remained motionless. Their faces were serene, peaceful, as if the bone-chilling frost didn’t exist.

Chu Che’s mind was a mess of overgrown weeds and panic.

Run? Run where? What does “Run Fast” mean?

What happened here? Why would a predecessor leave such a desperate message?

It seemed he was the only one who could see the glowing text.

“Chu Che, we’re here. What’s on your mind?”

Wu Jianshan’s voice cut through the fog, startling Chu Che back to reality.

The cult leader looked at him suspiciously, his gaze following the line of sight where Chu Che had been staring.

He saw nothing.

“Oh, nothing. Just… getting out now,” Chu Che stammered.

The convoy ground to a halt.

Chen Ye hopped out of his pickup, looking at the school with exaggerated curiosity. He strode up to Wu Jianshan and draped a heavy arm around the Archbishop’s neck, pulling him into a rough, buddy-buddy headlock.

“Holy shit, Old Wu! You’ve really outdone yourself, kid! I never thought you’d build a literal paradise in the middle of the apocalypse. Nice work!”

“If I’d known you were living like a king, I would’ve come to mooch off you ages ago. Saved me a hell of a lot of suffering.”

Chen Ye’s attitude was perfectly calibrated for a “best friend.”

Some people are socially anxious introverts in public. But put them in front of their best friend, and they become loud, obnoxious chaos gremlins. To the outside world, Chen Ye was a sinister, pragmatic survivor. To a “brother” he hadn’t seen in years? He was a shameless pest.

The problem was, Wu Jianshan was over a decade older than Chen Ye. He was a Grand Bishop. He wasn’t actually Chen Ye’s classmate.

Wu Jianshan froze. Veins bulged on his forehead as he fought the urge to snap Chen Ye’s neck. He forced a stiff smile and gently but firmly removed Chen Ye’s arm.

Chen Ye stared at his rejected arm, his expression shifting from confusion to hurt, and then to suspicion.

“No way… Old Wu, are you too big-time for me now? You don’t recognize your own brother?”

Chen Ye narrowed his eyes. “You forgot all the crap we did in school…”

He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You bastard, you’re a fake, aren’t you?”

Wu Jianshan’s heart skipped a beat.

You’re a fake.

That sentence was a landmine. If Chen Ye realized he wasn’t the “Old Wu” from his memories, the cognitive anchor would shatter. The plan would collapse.

Wu Jianshan let out a dry, awkward laugh. “Yezi, look where we are. Give me some face, will you? I am the Archbishop of the Death God Church, after all.”

Inside, Wu Jianshan was regretting this “classmate” persona more with every passing second.

The black-robed cultists watched in horror. They saw their holy Archbishop being manhandled by a stranger, yet he didn’t strike the infidel down.

Their eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Immediately, a mental tag was applied to Chen Ye: ‘This man is intimate with the Archbishop. Do not provoke. Do not touch.’

Ironically, this misunderstanding would later grant Chen Ye unrestricted access to the most sensitive areas of the cult’s base.

The other survivors, however, were looking at the school with envy and longing.

Before the end, a school was a place of boredom and discipline. Now? It was a fortress. A sanctuary. A super-luxury villa.

Chu Che watched the reactions of his team, his heart sinking lower.

Nana looked at the building with starry eyes, ready to move in.

Ding Dong remained silent but was already scanning the grounds, calculating where to plant a vegetable garden. Fresh greens had been a fantasy for too long.

Iron Lion grinned foolishly, his secondary head fast asleep.

Chu Che realized with a jolt that without hard evidence, his teammates wouldn’t believe him.

He was their Captain. But Wu Jianshan? He was their family. Their uncle, their brother, their savior.

Even Chu Che was struggling to trust his own eyes. The glowing warning—[RUN!!!]—was hovering less than two meters from Chen Ye, yet the man was oblivious.

Chen Ye…

Chu Che looked at the protagonist. Chen Ye was currently acting like a relentless rascal, pestering Wu Jianshan with the tenacity of a debt collector.

He’s shameless. He’s paranoid. And he’s smart.

If anyone can figure this out…

“Our Lord above! Welcome, fellow survivors, to the Death God Church!”

The dozens of cultists at the gate chanted in unison.

“O Scythe-Wielder who holds the End, we beg for Your mercy… Guide the lost souls…”

The chant rose like a dark mist, carrying an indescribable, vibrating power.

Above them, the heavy snowflakes seemed to bend around the black-robed figures, repelled by an invisible force field. A mysterious, divine pressure descended upon the group.

Chen Ye finally released Wu Jianshan’s collar.

Wu Jianshan, face flushed red, frantically smoothed the wrinkles in his pristine robes. He took a deep breath, composing himself.

Internally, he had already sentenced Chen Ye to a slow, painful death.

He stepped forward, flanked by two rows of ominous cultists. The transformation was instant. The flustered “Old Wu” vanished, replaced by the High Priest—majestic, sacred, and cold.

Only Chen Ye’s expression flickered.

This Old Wu… he really is different.

Has the brotherhood faded? Is love truly dead?

Or…

Chen Ye’s antics hadn’t just been for fun. They were a stress test.

He’s acting.

At that moment, Chu Che looked over.

The eyes of the two most paranoid men in the convoy met. A spark of understanding passed between them.

Chen Ye didn’t doubt “Old Wu’s” identity yet, but he doubted his intentions. Chu Che, armed with the invisible warning, doubted everything.

Seeing the skepticism in Chen Ye’s eyes, Chu Che felt a surge of relief so strong he could have wept.

I knew it. In this entire convoy, the only person I can trust is this magnificent bastard.

“Everyone,” Wu Jianshan announced, his voice projecting clearly over the wind. “This is the sanctuary of the Death God Church. As long as you are here, I guarantee you will not be attacked by any Anomaly.”

“Rong City is vast. Before the apocalypse, it was a tourist hub with over a million residents. Now… the bigger the city, the greater the danger. Do not assume that because this school is safe, the rest of the city is.”

“In the Changwang District alone, there are two incredibly powerful Anomalies. One is the Eight-Limbed Human Face, which some of you have met. The other… is far more terrifying. You do not want to meet it.”

“As for the areas outside Changwang District? I can promise you, they are no better than hell on earth.”

He droned on, painting a grim picture of the outside world while highlighting the safety of his cage. The implication was clear: Be good. Stay put. Don’t wander.

But Chu Che wasn’t listening. His pupils contracted violently.

He saw it.

The second Mark.

Hovering in the air next to Wu Jianshan, glowing like a neon sign in a dive bar, were the words:

[DO NOT BELIEVE A SINGLE WORD HE SAYS!]