Apocalypse: System of lotteries



Hawkins nodded and turned back to face the heavenly soldier.

"What are you staring at? You're not getting past me!"

The soldier brandished his regulated blade, eyes ablaze with defiance. His strategy was straightforward: if outmatched, retreat. Voicing such bravado might please the gods within the tent and bring him a fortune—perhaps even a promotion. After all, no one aspires to be a perpetual underlying, ordered about at whim.

With a muffled thud, the soldier was slashed to the ground.

Mike, twirling his knife, glanced at Hawkins. "Was this foe worth your long contemplation before striking? Have you slowed down since you found a wife?"

Hawkins had no retort; his opponent had already retreated.

Inside the tent, neither side had gained the upper hand. Both paused in their attacks, scrutinizing each other while massaging their own arms and thighs. Ming found himself at a disadvantage; ever since Pangu swallowed that pill, all his control and negative abilities seemed to have lost their effect. Now, it was a bare-knuckle contest of strength.

Initially incensed, Pangu's anger waned after several exchanges. The suppression of his abilities vexed him like a form of psychological torment. Eventually, he accepted this reality. If he couldn't use his skills, he'd revert to brute force to see who would last longer.

Both parties took deep breaths, preparing for another round.

Yet, Ming remained concerned about the happenings outside the tent. While Pangu seemed indifferent, Ming couldn't afford such nonchalance. He stepped towards the tent flap, peeking out and finding himself eye-to-eye with Mike.

"Big brother!"

"Mike?"

"Do you need help, big brother?"

Mike leaned in to see a man without pants curiously staring back at him. Glancing from his elder brother to the pants-less man, Mike faced his sibling. "I can't help with this situation, can I? Sorry for interrupting."

"Just get in here."

Ming grabbed Mike and forcefully pulled him inside. "You're just in time; I'm exhausted. You continue fighting him."

Mike scratched his head. "Big brother, you know I'm a married man, and honestly, I'm not into guys. I think I should leave."

Ming frowned. "I'm asking you to kill him."

Mike whispered, "Big brother, to be honest, 'do it and quit it' doesn't look good."

Ming stood dumbfounded. "Have you been spending too much time with that dark-haired demon pig? Your conversational skills have surely advanced, leaving me at a loss for words."

"Hey!"

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At this moment, Pangu, standing opposite them, shouted angrily. "You both can take me on at once. I'm not scared!"

Mike looked at Pangu. "Well, you might not be scared, but I am."

Ming and Mike rushed to Pangu's sides as he spoke, pinning him down. Ming pried open his mouth, and Mike quickly stuffed in two pills.

Ming paused, "We're not feeding him pills; they won't work. Use the ultimate move!"

Mike hesitated briefly before understanding. "Got it!"

The conversation between Ming and Mike was merely a distraction to divert Pangu's attention. Ming had a simple thought: if Pangu's strength had increased after taking a pill, would he lose it if he regurgitated it? It was a desperate gamble, but Mike had some excellent secret weapons.

Pangu was furious. "You both are asking for it!"

Fueled by anger, he broke free from their hold. A dignified, high-ranking man like him was utterly infuriated by such treatment.

Super Furious!

Boom!!

Pangu's strength surged, escalating rapidly.

"Your weapon has expired?" Ming asked.

"Don't be ridiculous; at most, it was from the day before yesterday," Mike replied.

"Can it even be stored?" Ming questioned.

"Just keep it in your mouth~" Mike shrugged.

"You're a tough one," Ming noted.

At this point, Pangu reached into his pocket and took out two golden pills. "Today will be your death anniversary!"

Mike, "Retreat?"

[Your Merlin sensed the smell of the pills and began analyzing. Ah, no wonder your poison had no effect on this guy; it's missing a catalyst. Merlin found that some substance in these pills could chemically react with the poison you laid on Pangu. To put it simply, these golden pills are the fuse to your poison barrel. One pill was not enough, but two should do the trick.]

[Merlin watches as Pangu clenches the pills in his hand. Go ahead, eat them. They're delicious.]

"..."

Ming frowned. Could it really work like that?

Crunch. Pangu placed the pills in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed.

Boom! The drug's power exploded, and Pangu's remaining hairs disappeared, making him completely bald.

[Merlin tells you, Ming, don't panic. You can win this by lying down.]

Thud! Thud!

Two muffled sounds were heard as Ming and Mike were sent sprawling to the ground by Pangu's fists.

Mike coughed, "This pill... has quite the kick."

Ming thought Merlin's assurance that we would win is now questionable, but the lying down part is spot-on.

Bent at the waist and clutching his abdomen, Ming took slow breaths. Pangu's punch had winded him. He glanced at Mike, who was spitting out blood mixed with tooth fragments. "How are you holding up?"

"Nothing serious," Mike said, pulling himself upright and yanking out the remaining half of the loose tooth. "Just might leak air when playing the sax from now on. Still, you've never been this concerned about me before, have you?"

Assured that Mike was all right, Ming relaxed. After all, coughing up blood could be unnerving. He quipped, "I'm merely worried my siblings will be widowed."

Mike frowned. "Well, I'm sure my wife appreciates your concern."

Meanwhile, Pangu, still standing in the muddy pit, rubbed his bald head. "Rest assured, soon there will be two widows in this world."

Mike burst into laughter. "Impossible. My boss is a lifelong bachelor. You won't make a widow out of anyone!"

Pangu and Ming both fixed their gaze on Mike, who was laughing like a child who had just discovered some profound truth. Pangu remained vigilant, suspecting that the seemingly foolish man was pretending and could launch a surprise attack as before.

Ming sighed inwardly. 

Outside the tent, Alan was in a tight spot. His role was clear—Mike would command the puppets to clean up the mess while he taunted the enemy. But suddenly, Mike disappeared, leaving him to face a crowd of provoked enemies. He struggled through close combat, dodging dangers at every turn.

Christina, brandishing dual blades, rushed towards him. "Where's Mike?"

"Gone."

"Gone?"

A tear formed in the eyes of the snake woman who had just arrived. Had she lost her man?

Digennaro, who had been efficiently fighting, halted to console her. "Don't worry, sister-in-law. Being a widow isn't as frightening as it seems."

The snake woman burst into tears.

Inside the tent, Ming held back from attacking. The situation outside had clarified; the arrival of Mike and others had turned the tide of battle. Victory was just a matter of time.

Ming and Mike's task was to hold Pangu at bay. Given the dual constraints of the mud and the tent, defeating him quickly was impossible. They could only imagine how powerful he would be unbound. Once victory was secured outside, ganging up on him would be easy.

Pangu, though furious, maintained a level of calm. What vexed him was his ignorance about what was happening outside the tent. None of his guards had yet burst in. What were they doing?

Pangu knew that he had to break free from the tent and the muddy pit by himself. He wouldn't be able to hold his own if confined. It was clear that his current opponents had not yet gone all out. In a grave tone, he declared, "If I am to die today, then make it swift. And if you're not going to kill me, then grant me that swiftness as well!"

With that, he activated his domain: Authority Over All.

[The tent effect is triggered; silencing fails.]

A low hum reverberated, causing Ming and Mike to pause. They then watched as Pangu, running his hands back over his bald head, burst into silent laughter, his face filled with the purest form of relief, a liberation from his shackles.

Regaining his composure, Pangu's gaze fell upon the two men before him. Extending his hand, he commanded, "Come, bribe me!"

The hum resounded again.

"My money!"

Suddenly, Mike howled in disbelief, pointing furiously at Pangu. "It's all gone, every last cent this scoundrel takes!"

"Your money's gone?" Ming wondered, feeling oddly unaffected himself.

He realized he had used up all his cash earlier, clutching it in his fist. As luck would have it, he had dodged Pangu's skill because he had not a single coin on him. Was this fate?

He glanced at Mike and found him looking utterly drained, his face a portrait of despair and frailty, resembling a man on his deathbed.

"You..." Pangu looked at Ming in amazement. "You have not a single cent on you?"

Ming shrugged. "Indeed, I am the man who regards money as mere dung."

Pangu, unimpressed, once again aimed his hand at Mike and activated the skill 'Hire an Assassin.' While he acknowledged Ming's formidable combat abilities, his 'Bribe' skill had not afflicted Ming nor drained him mentally.

Thus, he aimed 'Hire an Assassin,' a mental manipulation skill, at Mike, whose spirits were evidently low and easily controllable. He didn't dare to attempt such control on Ming. After several exchanges, he had come to fear Ming's impenetrable defenses. Missing a skill on him would waste a chance for initiative.

Mike was different; his current feeble state made him easily manipulated.

"Damn it!" Mike suddenly shouted, his demeanor switching from downtrodden to frenetic. After his outcry, he turned to look at Ming.

"What's gotten into you?" Ming asked.

Mike's voice trembled, "He gave me the money back, more than tenfold. He wants me to kill you, promising ten times more if I do."

"You're not considering it, are you? Killing me for money?"

"Of course not; we're the best of brothers."

"Then what's the meaning of you brandishing that knife at me?"