Chapter Twenty: Divine Treasure Chest (2/5)

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115C was a space reserved in the office building for visiting leaders or professors, a place designated for meetings and discussions. Yang Fan had no knowledge of it, but luckily, Zhu Liang did.

On their way, after dealing with seven or eight zombies, Yang Fan and Zhu Liang managed to evade the pursuit of the mother zombie.

Facing ordinary zombies of level 1 to 3, Yang Fan could eliminate them with a single move, but against the higher-level mother zombies, things became difficult. He lacked proper weapons and powerful skills; Tai Chi was only a basic technique, not particularly strong.

There were many treasure chests along the way, mostly black iron and white chests, which could easily be mistaken for silver-tier chests if one didn’t look closely.

When they reached the third floor, the classroom 115C, it was empty—not a single corpse. Yang Fan immediately felt uneasy. How could there be no zombies? Even if there were no mother zombies, there should still be ordinary ones. The only plausible explanation: the treasure chests had been opened.

Without wasting words, Yang Fan ordered Zhu Liang to lead the way, his expression grim. The dark gold chest was crucial, holding immense treasures. Zhu Liang realized the gravity of the situation as well, fearing they had been outpaced, and quickly guided Yang Fan to 115C.

115C was a small conference room, about sixty square meters. Yang Fan kicked open the door. On the round table sat a treasure chest, radiating a muted purple-gold light...

Yang Fan gasped—this was not a dark gold, but a purple-gold chest, worth a fortune. Yet... it had already been opened. His mind thundered—gone? The purple-gold chest had been claimed by someone else? Who?

It was as if he had won a five-million-dollar check, only to lose it through negligence—a heart-wrenching, agonizing feeling.

“The other chests have been opened, too—not just one person,” Zhu Liang observed, his concern deepening. He didn’t fully grasp what this meant, but Yang Fan’s reaction made it clear these were important. He quickly checked the surroundings and found three silver-white chests and one golden chest, all opened.

Everything had been taken—a tremendous loss.

Yang Fan didn’t need to guess; those had to be silver-tier chests. It was like a beast king surrounded by fierce followers—the purple-gold chest was the beast king, and the neighboring chests were no less valuable.

“Sigh.” Yang Fan slumped to the floor, unable to accept the reality. A purple-gold chest—what did that mean? When Qin Ziwen obtained a silver-tier chest, it contained a skill book, a tool, five hundred apocalypse coins, enhancement liquid, and a piece of silver-tier equipment.

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Imagine the terror of purple-gold-tier equipment. If nothing unexpected happened, once this combination was digested, the owner would be unrivaled in the early stages—unless someone found an epic or legendary chest, which was highly improbable.

“Let’s go.” After five minutes, Yang Fan stood up, still deeply troubled, but not defeated by the setback.

“Let’s search other rooms for silver-tier chests,” he said. Zhu Liang nodded vigorously and followed.

Soon, they found two silver-tier chests in the audio-visual room. Zhu Liang chose to open one, but Yang Fan did not. Instead, he summoned one of the seven girls from the Portrait of Ladies—since formal training hadn’t started, he could summon them at will.

This girl was named Lin Qingqing, recognized by the Portrait of Ladies as a potential goddess of healing.

“Open this chest,” Yang Fan instructed her.

“It’s already been opened. Seven silver-white chests suddenly appeared, and we’ve claimed them all, but their contents are reserved until after training,” Lin Qingqing said, smiling at Yang Fan.

“Already opened?” Yang Fan was surprised; he hadn’t expected the Portrait of Ladies to automatically collect chests. Silver-tier chests were rare, and seven was extraordinary. He nodded, opened the portal, and let Lin Qingqing return.

He gazed silently at the silver-tier chest.

Chests couldn’t be taken away; after twenty-four hours, they would all reset, and the second batch would appear. Only players who had inherited the apocalypse system could open the second batch; others could not.

The second batch was scarce, and their locations unpredictable—they might appear before you, atop Mount Everest, or beneath your toilet—completely random.

Yang Fan stared at the silver-tier chest for a long time, then snorted, saying, “My success and effort don’t rely excessively on external things. Silver-tier—so what? It’s nothing.”

His spirit became resolute. He stood, glanced around at the remaining chests, and finally chose a nondescript white chest—pure white, similar to silver-tier, the lowest grade. Yang Fan looked at it and chose to unlock it.

Click!

The chest unlocked. What greeted him was nothing but endless radiance.

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“Congratulations! You have opened the unique god-tier chest. You gain a wisp of divine energy. Hidden attribute: Luck increased by 99, Charm increased by 99. You are bestowed with the divine aura—permanent attribute, all abilities increased by 30%, including critical hit, evasion, etc.; teammates’ abilities increased by 10%.”

“Because your body contains traces of other divine energy, you are granted a divine skill: ‘Might of the Gods’.”

Blinding white light flooded the world. Though it lasted only a second, it caused countless events. Zombies everywhere were stunned. Humans were shocked, then felt a terrifying pressure, as if facing a dragon.

When they recovered, humans saw the dazed zombies and immediately grabbed their weapons, beginning to slaughter. Yang Fan had no idea that opening this chest had changed the future for countless people who would otherwise have died. Years later, as humanity survived, they recorded a chronicle. In it was a line: If not for the radiance of the gods, at least half the population would not have survived.

“God-tier chest, god-tier chest, god-tier chest...” Yang Fan gasped, then was overcome with joy. The god-tier chest surpassed even legendary chests—the best thing imaginable. It was like losing a sesame seed only to find a gigantic watermelon.

————

Far away.

A group dressed in identical robes suddenly stopped.

They wore ferocious golden masks. The leading man, eight feet tall, radiated a terrifying aura.

“Damn it. The true god chest has appeared. Foresight cannot interfere with divine energy.”

At his words, the others were visibly shaken.

A fierce wind blew, revealing a strange sigil on their robes—a red skull...

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