While Chen Ye’s mind raced with calculations, a figure stepped out from the crowd, instantly commanding the attention of everyone present.

She was stunning.

Yet, the moment Chen Ye laid eyes on her, his gut twisted.

It wasn’t that this internet celebrity—who once boasted millions of followers—was unattractive. On the contrary, she was striking. She stood tall, perhaps 1.75 meters, with a slender, well-proportioned frame.

But the way she moved… the sway of her hips was exaggerated, almost theatrical, forcing the eye to linger on curves that felt deliberately displayed.

It was no wonder she had been a top-tier influencer. The charm was undeniable.

And yet, Chen Ye felt a visceral discomfort. A profound sense of wrongness.

Before the world ended, a star of her caliber would have raked in money comparable to a third-tier celebrity, perhaps even rivaling the A-listers in sheer influence. But now? Now she was reduced to the trophy wife of a wretched old man.

Judging by Mo Huairen’s lecherous grin, he probably had more than one.

Chen Ye glanced into the darkness surrounding the campfire. He saw dozens of eyes fixed on the woman—eyes filled with starving lust and suppressed madness.

The woman sashayed over to Old Man Mo, lifted a long, shapely leg, and draped herself over him.

“Hubby,” she cooed, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. “You called?”

The old man had no shame. She was young enough to be his granddaughter.

“Hehe… my little darling,” Mo slurred, gesturing with his cup. “This is Captain Chu Che. We’re celebrating tonight. Why don’t you dance for the boys?”

“Hubby, I’m tired,” she whined. “And I haven’t even eaten yet!”

“Hahahaha… be good, my little treasure,” Mo laughed, his hand sliding possessively over her. “Dance well, and tonight I’ll let you eat your fill.”

“You’re so annoying!”

The two flirted openly, completely ignoring the crowd, acting as if they were the only two people left in the world.

Chen Ye watched, the uncanny feeling intensifying.

It wasn’t just that he didn’t recognize this specific celebrity. It was the interaction itself. There was a jarring dissonance he couldn’t quite place.

Even Captain Chu, a man notoriously indifferent to women, subtly shifted his chair away.

Of course, not everyone shared their hesitation. Plenty of men were practically drooling.

Sensing a gaze on him, Chen Ye looked up to find Sun Qianqian staring at him. The pink-haired girl wore a teasing, knowing smirk.

Chen Ye blinked, confused. What is she laughing at?

Just then, the “little darling” swayed her hips to the center of the clearing.

Though her clothes were simple, she was clean—a luxury in the wasteland. There was a rustic beauty to her, proof that the old man treated her well, at least by apocalyptic standards.

She even shot a wink in Chen Ye’s direction, a playful hint of seduction.

For some reason, a chill ran down Chen Ye’s spine.

Someone produced a phone—long disconnected from any network, but still functional as an MP3 player. A beat dropped, and the music began.

Old Man Mo’s “little darling” began to move.

To be fair, the dancing was professional. The technique was solid, clearly built on years of training. In the old world, a wretch like Mo Huairen wouldn’t have had a chance with such a beauty in eight lifetimes.

But as the dance continued, the strange feeling in Chen Ye’s gut turned into a realization.

The woman’s hands… they were surprisingly large. Her feet, too. Her skeletal frame was broader than the average female’s.

And then, the firelight caught the prominent bob of an Adam’s apple.

Click.

Chen Ye understood.

Damn it. That’s a crossdresser.

Holy shit…

And he just winked at me.

Chen Ye was speechless.

He had no prejudice against anyone’s lifestyle choices; in the apocalypse, everyone had the right to survive however they saw fit. But this was the first time he had encountered such a… convincing specimen.

He was stunned.

Instinctively, he scooted his chair back a few inches.

He wasn’t alone. Iron Lion and Captain Chu wore identical expressions of frozen realization.

In contrast, the men from the Camel convoy looked delighted, completely enthralled.

Only the plain-looking young woman from Mo’s team showed open disgust. With resolute, hardened features, she downed her cup of white liquor in one gulp, stood up, and stormed off into the dark without a word.

Old Man Mo didn’t even glance at her departure.

“Hehe…” A whisper tickled Chen Ye’s ear. “How about it? Heart beating a little faster?”

Sun Qianqian leaned in, the tips of her pink hair brushing against Chen Ye’s nose.

Chen Ye rolled his eyes and stayed silent.

“Captain Mo,” Captain Chu interrupted, clearly eager to divert attention from the performance. “Along your journey, besides us, have you encountered any other survivor teams?”

Chu Che had zero interest in the crossdresser. He was all business.

Mo Huairen, despite his wretched appearance, looked like he was in paradise. Hearing the question, he reluctantly tore his eyes away from the dance.

“I have,” Mo said, slurring slightly. “Counting you folks, I’ve run into… let’s call it two and a half convoys.”

“Oh?”

The old man took a sip of his liquor, letting out a satisfied ahhh, acting as if the cheap alcohol was a vintage reserve.

“One group was a motorcycle gang. Full migration mode. They said they were heading south, planning to find refuge at sea.”

“The sea?” Chu Che frowned. “Even the oceans aren’t safe anymore.”

Chen Ye and the others leaned in, listening intently.

In the wasteland, information was currency. Survival knowledge was worth more than gold. With the internet dead, rumors and word-of-mouth were the only news sources left.

“And the other ‘half’ team?” Iron Lion asked, his voice a deep rumble.

“That one… I’m not entirely sure myself,” Mo admitted, scratching his chin.

“I only caught a glimpse from a distance.”

“That group… they seemed to have built a castle.” He paused, his eyes unfocused as if recalling a hallucination. “A castle on the back of a colossal elephant.”

Mo hesitated, sounding like he barely believed his own words.

“A castle on an elephant?”

Captain Chu pressed immediately, his eyes flickering with rapid thought. The detail had clearly triggered a connection in his mind.

Chen Ye, Sun Qianqian, and Iron Lion exchanged glances. Sequence Beyonders?

“It was definitely an elephant. Or something like it. Massive,” Mo insisted. “I saw the structure clearly. A fortress on its back. There must have been hundreds of people up there.”

“The distance was too great, so I didn’t dare make contact.”

Seeing the skepticism on their faces, Old Man Mo laughed loudly. “What’s with those looks? This is the apocalypse! We have Sequence Beyonders now. Is a giant elephant really that strange?”

“There’s a theory going around,” Mo continued, rambling now. “They say the Anomalies appeared because two different planes of existence overlapped.”

“Unbelievable things are going to happen. Don’t be so shocked.”

“Think about it. Before this, could you imagine weather where you roast alive in the day and freeze to death at night? I’ve even heard people say they’ve stumbled into worlds that never existed on Earth before.”

“Compared to that… a castle on an elephant is nothing.”

Perhaps it was the alcohol, but Mo Huairen became a chatterbox. As long as Chu Che nudged him, the old man spilled everything he knew.

They gathered a wealth of intelligence about the outside world. However, the moment the topic veered toward their specific Sequences, the old man clamored up or changed the subject.

He was drunk, but he wasn’t stupid.

The trade was originally scheduled for that evening, but the night had grown too deep. They agreed to postpone it until morning.

As the banquet wound down and the Fairness Team prepared to retreat to their tents, a disturbing scene unfolded.

The survivors who had been crouching in the darkness—the silent observers—suddenly moved.

Like a swarm of locusts, they rushed the leftover cauldron.

They didn’t care that the soup was still boiling scalding hot. They plunged their hands in, grabbing chunks of gristle and vegetables, stuffing their mouths with desperate ferocity.

The weaker ones, shoved to the periphery, scrambled for the bones discarded on the ground, gnawing on them with sickening crunches.

Old Man Mo turned back to look at them, laughing with twisted triumph.

“The apocalypse is good! The apocalypse is great!” Mo shouted. “Director Zhang, slow down! There are plenty of bones!”

“And Director Wang… hahaha! Look at him go!”

“Alright, my little darling, let’s go back… time for bed!”

The people fighting over trash were the survivors of the Camel Team. The ones Mo referred to as livestock.

Chen Ye had realized quickly that the Camel Team operated on a completely different logic than their Fairness Team.

These people, shackled and broken, were the private property of Mo Huairen and his fellow Beyonders.

Compared to this slavery, the strict meritocracy of the Fairness Team was practically utopia. In Chu Che’s convoy, as long as you worked and fought, you ate. You were human.

Here, they were less than dogs.

Many of the Fairness survivors watched with sorrow and fear in their eyes.

Chen Ye and his companions said nothing. They quietly ducked into Captain Chu’s large tent, which had survived the sandstorm intact.

They pulled up chairs and sat in a tight circle.

“Captain,” Chen Ye asked the moment he sat down, his voice low. “When do we strike?”

He didn’t beat around the bush. He had seen the Camel Team’s inventory. They had supplies. Good supplies. Maybe even Artifacts.

Silence filled the tent. Everyone looked at Chen Ye.

Sun Qianqian scoffed, her eyes full of mock disdain. “Chen Ye, you really are rotten to the core. You bastard, you’re thinking of a double-cross, aren’t you?”

Iron Lion frowned, his voice deep and serious. “Wild One, that’s not right. We are all survivors. A fair trade benefits everyone.”

Captain Chu shook his head, looking at Chen Ye with feigned scorn. “Tsk tsk tsk… Chen Ye, I knew from the start you weren’t a good guy.”

Chen Ye looked around the circle at his hypocritical teammates.

“Damn it,” he sneered. “Don’t pretend you weren’t all thinking the exact same thing.”