Apocalypse Gachapon Chapter 1957: Sneak attack

"Hey, we're on a mission here—can you quit watching that junk? It's way too loud."

A Cave Huo warrior addressed his teammate beside him.

His teammate was glued to a terminal screen, where lively tunes blared alongside sizzling dances, sparkling edges, and ringing clashes. It looked like one of those trending battle dance competitions lately.

The one talking had never had much respect for stuff like that.

Did copying a couple of gestures truly capture the heart of fighting? It was all just showy nonsense; they'd likely pass out at the first whiff of blood.

Yet he understood why such shows existed. The galactic species clustered in the seven survivor strongholds, boasting huge numbers. The majority were regular folks without standout skills. Maybe thanks to their space-dwelling lifestyle, they could draw on certain energies to toughen their forms and pick up basic fighting styles and moves, just enough to claim they knew some basics.

But deep down, everybody recognized those weren't real fighters.

To become a genuine fighter, one had to hit what folks called Level Nine. That's when the Furelai index started gauging power.

Take him, for instance—his Furelai score above four thousand wasn't top-tier, but being young, he had plenty of growth potential ahead.

"You just don't get it; this is how we relax. Not like you, obsessing over drills all day long? What good does that do? Check this star out—their yearly earnings beat yours by a mile."

"And beat yours too."

The first speaker fired back, silencing his buddy for a moment.

"Huh? What's going on?"

All of a sudden, the teammate shook his arm in shock and exclaimed: "Signal's gone? No way it's some shady blackout trick, right? That's blatant! I even placed my vote!"

His outburst was pretty audible, drawing the attention of the captain overseeing this convoy task, who shared their ride. The captain approached, frowning, and demanded: "What's with the racket? Yelling about every little thing?"

"Sorry, Captain, it's no big deal. I was tuned into a show, and it dropped out. Think it might be signal jamming."

By now, the captain stood right there, bending down for a peek, and muttered confusedly: "No connection at all. Faulty terminal maybe?"

"Really?" The guy fiddled with it and confirmed the lack of signal.

"Wait, mine's out too?"

The initial talker had idly glanced at his own device and, to his astonishment, encountered the identical glitch.

The captain swiftly verified his, finding himself in the same boat—no signal.

"What spot is this? Any weird landscape or material messing with the link?"

Even with the stellar tech of the spacefaring races, terminals could still drop from the central network in specific spots, like around altered flora with odd traits or hazardous radiation zones.

"Lakeside artificial woods... nothing out of the ordinary here."

One team member peered out and wondered aloud, "Maybe deliberate interference from someone?"

At those words, the captain flinched hard. He bolted to the forward section, where an old intercom linked the convoy vehicles. Good thing these vintage mechanical rides still had such relics.

Snatching it up, he hit the switch and bellowed: "All teams, form up on me! All teams, form up! Eyes on the perimeter! Enemy contact likely!"

In a pinch like this, assuming the worst was smart. His ride sat smack in the middle; pulling everyone tight was pure reflex.

Yet right after his call, the lead vehicle jolted wildly ahead, listing sharply before slamming down. With the view clear now, the captain spotted the head car had toppled too, plunging into a massive crater.

Now, certainty gripped him—they were definitely ambushed.

"You, hang back and hail the clan for backup. Everyone else, out with me!"

His orders barely echoed when their own vehicle lurched fiercely, mimicking the prior chaos, and started keeling over.

The fighters inside tumbled in a mess. Despite their prowess, crammed in tight quarters, they fared no better than civilians.

After all, unleashing powers there would just hurt their own side.

The captain figured the trailing vehicles faced the same mess.

The foes had deployed top-notch snares!

"Bust through the exits, claim high ground, and hold the line!"

The captain smeared blood off his face—unclear whose it was. No moment to dwell. Soon as the tumbling halted, they needed to evacuate quick. Staying pinned inside spelled disaster.

Just before, that Cave Huo guy had boasted about how secure these antique mechanical vehicles were. Secure why? Their hulls were armored tough. Thus, the team opted to smash free via glass, hatches, and other softer spots or usual access points.

Events unfolded at breakneck speed, and the leader felt his directives were solid.

However, bursting forth met deadly lances.

They streaked from the shadows, packed with brutal momentum, slicing the wind with shrieks. Numerous fighters fresh out got surprised and skewered outright. Even those who parried one faced a barrage, shoving them to fall back or endure the barrage.

"No fear—push forward! Staying trapped means doom!" The captain shoved a hesitant warrior ahead, then vaulted out himself. Drawing on his solid skills, he clutched a blade in one fist and snatched a hurtling lance barehanded, while batting away another with his gear.

Sensing the crushing impact via the lance, the captain bellowed, firing up his resolve and signaling to nearby kin that he'd made it out.

But his shout rang too clear, marking him fast. Over fifteen lances hurtled in from every direction. The captain weaved and slashed relentlessly. He sidestepped fourteen, but the fifteenth clipped him, slamming into his right shoulder and hurling him afar. He braked by jamming his blade into the earth, only for agony to flare in his torso. A pointed blade had stabbed clean through, shredding his heart.

Straining, the captain twisted to glimpse a frosty, metallic mask sheen, and beneath, gaze icy and stripped of any feeling.

"It's... the Star-Eye... Bronze..."

Regrettably, life ebbed swiftly from him, cutting off his full words.

Right then, shadows slipped from the flipped vehicles and the thick woods flanking them. They glided without a sound, clad in masks and combat gear. With quick snaps, diverse abilities launched, slamming into the battered Cave Huo folk, who reeled from hits and fought to escape.