Apocalypse: I Can Upgrade Everything

Chapter 132: The Death of a Nobody

Zhou Xiaoxiao walked back from the cafeteria with the warm lunchboxes clutched to her chest.

Life at the Death God Church’s encampment was undeniably easier. There were no forced marches through the snow, no constant scanning of the horizon for monsters. Even after the gruesome discovery of the severed eyeball that morning, the tension had largely dissipated.

Compared to the hell of migration, this place was paradise.

Breakfast was meager—a bowl of thin porridge, a sprouted potato, some pickled vegetables, and a slice of expired bread. It was nothing compared to the feasts Chen Ye and the Sequence Beyonders enjoyed, but Zhou Xiaoxiao was satisfied.

For refugees, this was a king’s meal. The cultists even received a slice of luncheon meat, a perk that made many survivors eye them with envy.

Some were already asking about the recruitment process. The sight of cultists walking around in light robes, seemingly immune to the cold while everyone else shivered in bulky down jackets, was a powerful advertisement.

Fortunately, Uncle A Bao’s authority still held sway. Without his nod, no one dared to defect just yet.

Zhou Xiaoxiao kept her head down as she navigated the empty hallways. Most people were still eating.

She reached the door of Class 2, Grade 3—the room assigned to the convoy’s ordinary survivors—and pushed it open.

She froze.

In the center of the room, a body hung from the ceiling fan.

It was Xiao Chao.

The overturned chair lay beneath his feet. His face, marred by the two black-red hollows where his eyes used to be, stared blindly at the door. The neck was elongated, the head tilted at a sickening angle.

“AHHHHHH!”

Another scream pierced the silence of Rong City No. 2 Primary School.

Uncle A Bao arrived minutes later. He took one look at the scene and said nothing.

He simply gestured for the men to cut the body down.

Xiao Chao was gone. No amount of Death God’s Blood Tears could fix a broken neck.

There were no tears from the onlookers. Just a heavy, suffocating silence. Everyone understood why he had done it. A blind man in the apocalypse was a burden, a victim in waiting. He had chosen to end it on his own terms.

Uncle A Bao took a folded piece of paper from Xue Nan, who had found it in Xiao Chao’s pocket.

He handed it to Zhou Xiaoxiao. “Xiaoxiao, you were closest to them. You keep it.”

Zhou Xiaoxiao took the suicide note, her knuckles white as she gripped the paper.

The funeral was brief. Ten minutes.

They buried him in a flower bed behind the school building. A shallow pit, a hasty covering of frozen earth, and a mound of snow to mark the spot.

No Sequence Beyonders attended.

Only Chen Ye passed by in the distance, glancing at the small gathering with a cigarette in his mouth before walking away.

Zhou Xiaoxiao returned to the classroom and sat on her bunk. The room felt colder now. The empty ceiling fan loomed above them.

She unfolded the letter.

“Yuanyuan, I’m sorry. I should have come to keep you company sooner…”

Yuanyuan. The girl with the round face and crescent-moon smile. Zhou Xiaoxiao remembered her well—the fan who had excitedly grabbed her hands to talk about her sister, Zhou Lan.

“Yuanyuan, I’m sorry. When they told me you fell behind, I didn’t believe it. You were only out of my sight for a few minutes.”

“I went back. I searched the desert. But you were gone.”

“I told you to stay close. Uncle A Bao told us the Convoy’s First Iron Rule: Don’t fall behind! Don’t fall behind! Don’t fall behind!!!”

“Why couldn’t you do it?”

“You idiot!”

The writing stopped there, followed by a gap. The next section was written days later, the ink slightly different.

“Yuanyuan, I dreamed of you last night. Have you ever woken up with your face wet with tears? It felt like I washed my face. I haven’t washed my face in months.”

“I wish I had been the one to fall behind. Surviving is my punishment.”

The letter detailed his guilt, his regret, his slow descent into despair. It ended with a flicker of hope from the night before—He Laosi agreeing to teach him how to hotwire a car. He had planned to drive back to Yan Province to find her bones.

Instead, he found the Abyssal Blood Eye.

Zhou Xiaoxiao refolded the letter and tucked it into her backpack.

This was the reality of the apocalypse for the small people. A tragedy that would be forgotten by tomorrow.

While the survivors mourned, Chen Ye was busy.

He watched a black-robed cultist walk up to the fifth floor, a look of ecstatic anticipation on his face. The man disappeared behind the boarded-up partitions of the forbidden hallway.

He never came back down.

It was as if he had vanished into thin air.

Chen Ye noted it but didn’t investigate. In horror movies, the curious protagonist always dies first. He had no intention of being that guy.

He had more important things to do.

His Death God’s Blood Tears were upgrading in the System. He had a few hours to kill.

He turned his attention to his vehicle.

Parked on the playground were several SUVs belonging to the Death God Church. These were the vehicles the cultists used for scavenging runs.

Chen Ye didn’t plan on staying here forever. When they inevitably had to run, his Doomsday Pickup needed to be ready.

He approached a high-end Japanese off-road vehicle. It was pristine compared to his battered pickup.

He opened the door and started unbolting the driver’s seat.

Several cultists nearby saw him. They glared, their hands twitching toward their weapons, but no one moved. They knew who he was. The Bishop’s “brother.” The man who could manipulate smoke.

Chen Ye ignored them and dragged the leather seat across the snow to his truck.

His Doomsday Pickup was built on the chassis of a ‘Chili Fish Head’ Mini EV. It was functional, but uncomfortable.

He tossed the old seat out and shoved the new one in. It didn’t fit. The bolt patterns were completely different.

“Xue Nan!” Chen Ye barked.

The eager young man ran over. “Yes, Mr. Chen?”

“Hold this.”

Chen Ye lashed the seat down with rope. It wobbled and creaked.

Good enough for now, he thought. Once the System frees up some Slaughter Points, I’ll merge it properly.

Next, he ripped the climate control unit and the sound system out of the SUV. He jammed the air conditioner into his dashboard, leaving wires hanging and plastic cracked. It looked like a disaster.

“Hey, Yezi,” a voice called out. “That looks… rough. There are plenty of cars outside the school, you know. Why cannibalize these?”

Chu Che walked over, eyeing the butchered dashboard.

Chen Ye didn’t look up. “Brother, you know what’s out there. Going outside right now is courting death.”

Chu Che sighed. “Well, speaking of courting death… I plan to go out tomorrow morning. We need fuel and supplies. Are you coming?”

Chen Ye stopped working. He looked at Chu Che, his eyes narrowing.

“What? Planning to run already?”