Chen Ye didn’t work for free, but he didn’t welch on a deal either. He had already pocketed Iron Lion’s goods, so fixing the man’s vehicle was simply part of the transaction.

As he approached, the gathered survivors set down their tools, their eyes tracking him with heavy expectation.

“Yezi, you made it!”

“Yeah. Came to see the damage. Still not running?”

“No… sigh.” Iron Lion rubbed the back of his neck, his honest, rugged face twisted in regret. “I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m starting to wish I hadn’t swapped for this thing.”

Chen Ye glanced at the massive yellow vehicle. Iron Lion was wrong to regret it; this school bus was a fortress compared to the flimsy coach he had before.

The interior space alone was thirty percent larger, with a much higher ceiling. For a bear of a man like Iron Lion, the extra headroom wasn’t a luxury—it was a necessity.

“It’s fine,” Chen Ye said, his voice flat. “Let me take a look.”

He walked toward the open hood. The survivors, who had been fruitlessly tinkering with the engine, quickly scrambled out of his way.

The engine compartment was a mess. It had been dismantled halfway, exposing the greasy, steel heart of the machine. Iron Lion had been incredibly lucky to find a school bus in this condition out here in the wasteland. It was a rare beast.

Chen Ye placed his hand against the cold yellow metal of the fender.

System.

A translucent blue dialog box materialized in his retina.

“System, inspect vehicle condition.”

[Inspection Complete. Vehicle Integrity: 87%]

Chen Ye mentally nodded. The integrity score was high. The bus was a tank; there were likely no catastrophic failures. Iron Lion’s laundry list of complaints was probably just paranoia born of the apocalypse.

In this world, a reliable vehicle was the difference between living another day and becoming bleached bones in the sand.

“System, list all mechanical issues.”

A spreadsheet flickered into existence over his vision, overlaying the real world.

There were seven or eight issues listed. Half were cosmetic—peeling paint, dented body panels—irrelevant.

Scanning down, Chen Ye found the culprits Iron Lion had whined about: abnormal engine noise and sluggish throttle response.

In the short term, these wouldn’t kill the engine. But if left alone, entropy would take over. Small problems would metastasize into terminal failures.

Iron Lion had every right to be worried.

The interaction between Chen Ye and Iron Lion drew a crowd. The convoy only consisted of forty-odd souls; gossip traveled faster than a sandstorm.

Word had already spread that Chen Ye was a Mechanic Sequence Beyonder. The survivors were desperate for entertainment, or perhaps hope. They wanted to see a miracle.

They watched as Chen Ye stood motionless, his hand pressed against the bus.

“Sis, what is he doing? Why is he just standing there?”

“I don’t know,” a hushed voice replied. “He’s probably channeling his Beyonder ability.”

The Zhou sisters stood near the front of the pack. Zhou Xiaoxiao, in particular, stared with burning intensity. She dreamed of awakening a Sequence, of transcending her fragile humanity. She wasn’t going to miss a second of a real Beyonder in action.

Even Nana, the long-legged beauty, had wandered over, sipping a beer. She had never seen Chen Ye use his mechanic powers up close.

Meanwhile, Chen Ye was staring at a price tag in his mind. He had locked onto the core mechanical faults.

“System, cost to repair these issues instantly?”

[Requires: 150 Slaughter Points]

One hundred and fifty?

Chen Ye nearly grimaced. He felt a phantom pain in his wallet.

This System is trying to rob me blind.

150 points was a fortune for a tune-up. But he had already taken the pack of Tazi Cigarettes. Giving them back and admitting defeat wasn’t an option. It wasn’t about pride; it was about maintaining his reputation as a man who delivered.

But he was also a miser. There was no way in hell he was spending 150 points on someone else’s car.

“System, is there a manual repair guide? What’s the cost for the knowledge?”

[Repair Guidance: 10 Slaughter Points]

Ten points. That was more like it.

Chen Ye didn’t hesitate. “Purchase.”

[–10 Slaughter Points]

Instantly, glowing schematics and step-by-step instructions overlaid the engine block, visible only to him.

On the outside, Chen Ye’s expression remained bored. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and let it dangle from his lips. He reached out to a nearby survivor.

“Wrench.”

He took the tool and dove in.

The crowd craned their necks, trying to see the magic.

What they saw was Chen Ye dismantling parts with terrifying speed. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t second-guess. His hands moved with the muscle memory of a master mechanic with thirty years of grease under his fingernails.

A few minutes later.

Chen Ye wiped his hands on a rag and stepped back. The bus was fixed.

Old Li, the man with the glasses, jumped into the driver’s seat to test it. The engine roared to life instantly. The idle was smooth, the throttle response snappy.

“It’s perfect!” Old Li shouted over the hum.

Iron Lion beamed, slapping Chen Ye on the shoulder with a heavy hand. He grinned like a fool, incoherent with relief.

The crowd, however, looked deflated.

“That’s it?”

“I thought we’d see… I don’t know, energy beams or floating parts?”

“Just fixing it with a wrench? Is his Mechanic Sequence even real?”

“If that’s all it is… I could probably do that.”

“You? Please. You wouldn’t know a piston from a spark plug.”

“I…”

Nana scoffed, took a swig of her beer, and turned away. Her long legs carried her back to her tent, interest lost.

The Zhou sisters exchanged confused glances. It had been… underwhelming.

But amidst the dispersing crowd, one person remained fixed in place.

A woman with a round face, a sharp chin, and messy, matted hair.

If anyone had bothered to look at her, they would have seen a disturbing light in her eyes.

It was Xu Jiaojiao. The former boxer.

After Captain Chu’s little maneuver to expose her true nature, she had become a pariah. She was hated, isolated, and ignored.

She had gone into hiding, lurking in the shadows of the convoy. When the group went to Longevity Village, she had stayed behind, paralyzed by fear.

Now, she survived by doing menial labor, scraping by like a rat in the gutter. She was average in looks, average in build, and possessed no skills other than a delusional level of self-confidence.

But she hadn’t given up.

For weeks, she had been whispering in ears, trying to rally the other survivors to overthrow the “tyranny” of the Sequence Beyonders.

It hadn’t worked. Nobody listened to a loser.

But as she listened to the crowd’s disappointment—the whispers that Chen Ye might be a fake, that the Beyonders weren’t gods—Xu Jiaojiao’s eyes brightened.

The recent peace had made the survivors complacent. And complacency bred restlessness.

She stared at Chen Ye’s back, a calculating smirk forming beneath her grime. Opportunity was knocking.

Chen Ye dusted off his hands and stood up, ignoring the murmurs.

The few survivors who actually knew anything about mechanics—the ones who had failed to fix the bus for hours—looked at him with pure reverence.

They knew. To diagnose and fix that engine in five minutes with hand tools? That wasn’t skill. That was a superpower.

It was past 11:00 PM.

The desert temperature was plummeting. The heat of the day vanished, replaced by a biting chill.

Survivors wrapped their coats tighter. Those with cars retreated into their metal shells. Those without crawled into their tents, zipping them shut against the cold.

Chen Ye felt the drop in temperature, but he wasn’t done yet.

He had one more transaction to make tonight.

He needed to find Captain Chu. He needed that solar charging panel.

He had been eyeing it for a long time.

With that panel, he could power the electronic watch he looted from Longevity Village. But more importantly, he could finally bring electricity to his Apocalypse Pickup.