Appraising the Red Leather—the Skin-Peeler Ghost’s Scalp—had cost a steep 100 Slaughter Points.

Now, facing the strange willow branch, Chen Ye braced himself for another financial hit. He was mentally prepared to hemorrhage another 100 points.

Although the thought made his heart ache, he didn’t hesitate. “System, appraise.”

However, when the deduction notification flashed, Chen Ye froze.

[Slaughter Points -10]

He felt a mix of relief and disappointment. Relief that his wallet had been spared. Disappointment because in this System, you got what you paid for. Ten points usually meant trash.

The results appeared instantly.

[Item Name: Resentment-Binding Willow Branch] [Type: Artifact Material] [Description: Can be used to craft Artifacts.] [Origin: A twig severed from the main body of a Resentment-Binding Willow by a complete nobody. The parent tree has thousands more just like it.] [Rating: Rare Material (Low Grade).]

So, the massive tree in Longevity Village was called the Resentment-Binding Willow. Fitting. The corpses dangling beneath its canopy were certainly bound by resentment.

But then Chen Ye paused, reading the text again.

Wait.

By a complete nobody?

Was the System mocking him? He was the one who cut it!

When he appraised the Ghost Scalp, the System had practically sung its praises, claiming it could forge a Top-2000 Artifact. This time? Silence. Just a generic “Rare Material” tag.

“Fine,” Chen Ye grumbled, stashing the branch away in the darkness. It was clearly inferior to the scalp, but it might still have uses.

He checked his status. The primary Upgrade Task—transforming the vehicle—was still running. The System could only handle one major upgrade at a time, though instant tasks like appraisals or Q&A didn’t clog the queue.

If he wanted to craft a new Artifact, he’d have to wait until the truck was finished at 7:00 AM tomorrow.

Chen Ye lit a cigarette. The faint orange cherry of the burning tobacco was the only light in the enclosed bed of the tricycle. In the darkness, the white pupil of his mutated left eye flickered with a ghostly luminescence.

Smoke curled around him as his mind wandered.

He thought about the Before. He had been a nobody then, too—working, sleeping, doom-scrolling through short videos until his eyes burned.

Then he thought about the Now.

This convoy was a circus of damaged goods.

Captain Chu looked like a refined gentleman but was actually a petty voyeur who hoarded tea and spied on people with his ‘Eavesdropping Radio’.

There was the pink-haired high school girl, a long-legged beauty who turned out to be a raging alcoholic. Since they raided the liquor store, she had been perpetually wasted.

Iron Lion, the gentle giant with a split personality. A simple-minded fool normally, but a berserker in combat.

Xu Lina, the Manipulative Fox. She oozed feminine charm and danger in equal measure. Her sudden interest in him was definitely calculated.

Little Fu, the university student with a terminal case of righteousness. That kid wouldn’t last a month.

Then there was the arrogant Zhou Xiaoxiao, her famous sister Zhou Lan… and him. An old chain-smoker with a rotting eye.

What a crew, Chen Ye mused. Everyone has an angle.

He rubbed his left eye. The vision was blurring more every day. Total blindness was a real threat. Hopefully, the System had a cure for mutation side effects down the line.

His thoughts grew heavy, dragging him down into the black water of sleep.

Time dissolved.

Chen Ye snapped awake the moment the System chimed.

Upgrade Complete.

He had been waiting for this. He was sick of the tricycle. If he hadn’t been forced by circumstance, he never would have tackled the apocalypse on three wheels.

Lying in the cargo bed, he immediately felt the change. The vehicle hadn’t gotten taller; it had sunk.

It felt grounded. Heavy.

He climbed out. The freezing cold of the night had vanished, replaced by the golden rays of the morning sun. The eerie Blood Moon was gone. For a moment, the warm light made the apocalypse feel like a bad dream.

But the steel beast in front of him was real.

Standing on the desert sand was a majestic, aggressive Doomsday Pickup.

It was currently sitting on its belly, wheel-less, but the chassis alone radiated power.

Chen Ye had been stingy with his Slaughter Points, opting to install the wheels himself to save cost. But everything else? The System had delivered.

The original ‘Chili Fish Head’ Mini EV was a tiny, boxy joke of a car with a stubby nose.

This was different. The front end had been stretched out, elongated to house a proper engine bay, giving it the aggressive profile of a hardcore off-road muscle truck. The windshield was wider, reinforced. The makeshift canopy he had welded onto the tricycle was gone, replaced by a seamless steel integration between the cabin and the bed.

Chen Ye did the math visually.

The original Mini EV was barely 3 meters long. With the extended engine bay and his custom 2.5-meter cargo bed, this monster stretched over 6.5 meters.

It was longer than a full-sized American pickup.

In a crowded city, this thing would be a nightmare to park. In the wasteland? It was a land yacht. A mobile fortress.

The paint job was rough—patchy, matte, with bare metal showing through in spots. Another cost-saving measure. But honestly? It looked better this way. It looked like it belonged to the end of the world.

“Finally,” Chen Ye muttered, a rare smile touching his lips. “No more being the caboose.”

Now for the manual labor.

He retrieved the four all-terrain tires he had scavenged from the Wrangler. One had been punctured, but the System’s upgrade process had repaired it as a bonus.

Chen Ye dragged a jack from the bed and got to work.

He jacked up the front corner, the heavy steel frame groaning as it rose. He lifted the massive off-road tire with ease. His strength wasn’t on Iron Lion’s level yet, but his reinforced body made changing a tire feel like handling a toy.

The chassis, stripped of a heavy engine block for now, was surprisingly light.

He aligned the wheel hub and reached for a bolt.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over him.

He looked up to see a face that was charming regardless of expression. She was wearing light makeup—where did she even find time for that?—and clean clothes that accentuated her figure, a stark contrast to the bundled-up dumpling she had been last night.

Xu Lina. The convoy’s resident siren.

She held a hex wrench in her hand, offering it to him. Her voice was soft, hesitant.

“Chen Ye, I… I saw you were busy, so I thought…”

Chen Ye didn’t let her finish. He snatched the wrench from her hand without a word and began tightening the lug nuts.

He knew exactly what she was doing. She was trying to make herself useful, trying to worm her way into the passenger seat of his new life.

Dream on, he thought coldly.

He wasn’t looking for a female lead in his survival story. In the apocalypse, a partner who couldn’t fight was just dead weight.

She might be beautiful, but to Chen Ye, she was just a “pretty vase”—decorative and fragile.

However, he didn’t drive her away.

If danger came knocking, a pretty vase could make for a decent distraction. A human shield, if necessary.

Xu Lina had no idea she was being mentally categorized as ‘ablative armor.’ In fact, seeing that Chen Ye didn’t immediately kick her out, a flush of genuine happiness rose in her chest.

She hid it quickly, maintaining her helpful, subservient facade as she handed him the next bolt.