Apocalypse Gachapon

Chapter 1780: Strong trash

Ye Zhongming watched the returning female birdman warily, contemplating whether to kill her from the front or the back.

He couldnʼt understand—were all these cosmic races mentally deficient? Hadnʼt she realized during their last encounter that he could easily end her? What gave her this baffling confidence to reappear before him so brazenly?

”Trash, I despise you.”

The female birdman spoke with venomous contempt, her tone dripping with arrogance.

Ye Zhongmingʼs brow furrowed.

Since arriving in this higher realm, while no longer the strongest—with experts capable of defeating him everywhere—neither the murderous escorts nor the multicolored man had targeted him so blatantly. To suddenly have this winged creature barking orders at him was... unfamiliar. Instinctively, killing intent surged within him.

Back on Earth, even his bitterest enemies wouldnʼt dare speak to him this way.

The aura Ye Zhongming now exuded made the female birdman livid. Light shimmered around her hands as she prepared to strike—

Then she remembered the multicolored manʼs warning and restrained herself.

Their long acquaintance, from rookies to trainers, meant she knew he wouldnʼt exaggerate without cause. If he said this trash possessed means to threaten her, it must be true. Best to endure for now. With over 90% rookie mortality rates recently, sheʼd likely hear of his death soon enough.
”Iʼm here to—”

The birdman began, forcing herself to fulfill her duty—

Then the ”trash” lunged without warning.

Blindingly fast.

In her face before she could blink.

As an assassin who thrived in shadows, not head-on clashes (as their last encounter proved), this proximity spelled disaster.

She was now standing before Ye Zhongming to negotiate. They weren’t far away. Although the Cloud Peak King didn’t have any teleportation equipment, he was extremely quick. His sudden movement caught her off guard, and she was hit.

She was astonished. What was going on?

CRACK!

Her barely raised wing took the brunt of Ye Zhongmingʼs punch. Pain exploded as she shrieked—

WHAM!

A roundhouse kick sent her careening sideways. Only her superior rank kept her standing—but effectively defenseless.

What followed was a methodical, bone-shattering beatdown.

Her already fractured wings snapped completely. Bruised and battered beyond recognition, the once-proud trainer became a punching bag.

Nearby, the masked observer and multicolored man winced with each impact. Strong rookies werenʼt unheard of—but one manhandling an elite trainer? Unprecedented. ŕＡꞐǒ₿ΕṨ

”Intervene?” The masked man deferred to his superior.

After a pause, the multicolored man shook his head. ”Let Aslan learn her lesson—so long as he doesnʼt kill her. Her recent instability harms our Stareye Race.”

Meanwhile, in the observation hall, attendants stole glances at the gold-masked commander. The air vibrated with his suppressed fury.

While lower ranks might not know Aslanʼs significance, they did. Watching their supreme commanderʼs [redacted] endure this humiliation was...

”Iʼll—” Commander Cheng Liuji began—then choked back his words as the fight concluded.

Ye Zhongming now held the birdman by her throat. He understood why victors favored this grip—total control, primal satisfaction.

”Questions. Answer truthfully. One lie...” His fingers flexed meaningfully. ”Understood, birdman?”

He eased pressure just enough for her to stand—though with shattered limbs, it was less standing than suspended torture.

”How did I get here? What is Darkstripe City? Who are you people? Why call us trash? What awaits us? What is the Slave Race? The apocalypse? Why return? And—whereʼs my gear?”

The barrage made the birdmanʼs eyes roll back as she fainted.

Ye Zhongmingʼs lip twitched.

Apparently, heʼd misjudged her durability. That warning squeeze had been... overenthusiastic.

Dropping her like garbage, he began rifling through her belongings—

Cue horrified gasps from observers

—emerging with a small vial. Without opening it, he sniffed, then unhesitatingly waved it beneath her nose.

Collective heart attacks among spectators

(Who tests unknown potions like this?! That couldʼve been poison!)

The birdman revived swiftly—her injuries, while dramatic, were deliberately non-lethal.

”Iʼm your trainer,” she blurted, preempting further violence. ”Since you survived my attack, I must teach you one of my techniques.”

Seeing Ye Zhongmingʼs blank stare, her heart sank.

Sheʼd spoken too fast.

The ”trash” hadnʼt understood.

Thus began Round Two of educational persuasion—

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!