This was a classic display of the national character—people would rather pay more taxes at home than suffer the humiliation of losing a war and paying reparations.
That's just how it was. A deep-seated lack of security was ingrained in them from birth.
Otherwise, how do you think such a vast territory was carved out over the course of thousands of years? Land doesn't fall from the sky. It was earned—because this nation never felt safe.
And when people lack a sense of security, they instinctively strive to become stronger.
Mike understood the people well. After all, no one wanted their current, hard-won peace and prosperity to crumble. They could accept progress or stability, but never regression—not when the threat of a new apocalypse still loomed.
Supporting Mike wholeheartedly was the easiest and most reassuring way for the masses to protect what they had. So, when the old man issued his domineering decree, Mike didn't object. He simply accepted it in silence.
He lacked the resources to upgrade. Sure, it felt awkward to ask for help outright, but if the people wanted to offer... Mike wasn't going to pretend to be shy about it.
He believed in being real. If he wanted something, he took it. Playing coy wasn't his style.
However, since Jinling and Xinchang had already donated heavily not long ago, and Guangling's resources had been drained for external support, the combined resources from those three cities weren't much. It was Dantu that stood out—its citizens had donated more than the other three cities combined.
"Still not enough…"
On the twelfth day, after tallying everything up, Mike let out a helpless sigh.
"The resources required to upgrade to a level-6 shelter are just too massive. Looks like I'll have to wait until the Fourth Apocalypse."
He glanced out the window. The sky over Jinling had turned a clear blue. The distant edges still held faint traces of ghost fog, but it no longer posed a significant threat to his forces.
"Well, these last few days can serve as a buffer—for all four cities to recover and regroup."
"But the question is… What kind of disaster will the Fourth Apocalypse bring? How much tougher will it be?"
Mike fell into thought. If the difficulty level remained similar to the Third Apocalypse, or even just slightly higher, he wasn't too concerned.
If the fundamental game logic still applied—where disaster came hand-in-hand with reward—then there would likely be a new type of independent resource dungeon, similar to the Ghost Fog Crisis or the Gate of Riddles.
That would be great news.
Such instances could massively boost his stockpile and further enhance both his own strength and the survival rate of his entire force.
"There's only three or four days left," he muttered.
As per the established practice, the Central Command had to draft comprehensive disaster-response simulations during this brief window. Civil affairs, urban planning, supply lines—there was still a lot to handle.
But even with so much on his plate, Mike remained relaxed.
Not because he was slacking, but because ever since the old man was recruited, he had taken full charge of internal affairs.
And with the old man's personality, it was either all or nothing. If he took responsibility, he didn't want anyone else interfering. Not even Mike could make suggestions without triggering the man's temper.
Talented people often came with quirks. Mike had no problem with that.
After all, the more administrative work the old man handled, the more his unique talent bloomed—expanding his influence and increasing his "wick counts" in the mechanism system. That alone made it worthwhile.
Looking at the entire organization, there was only one matter that still required Mike's personal attention—Chen Yanshuo, who had been captured two weeks ago.
The man was under top-secret solitary surveillance, with Wang Chen personally overseeing his confinement. No one else was allowed contact, and the location remained unknown to all but a select few.
Mike maintained the highest level of caution—not just because Chen was powerful and dangerous, but because of the mysterious figure lurking behind him.
During his confinement, both the old man and Jiang Xiaoci had attempted to probe Chen for intel. But the guy had been acting erratic—suicidal, unstable, constantly provoking his captors.
Thankfully, Wang Chen had a good temperament and didn't rise to the bait. If it had been someone hot-headed like Chen Dapeng, Chen Yanshuo would've already lost his head.
Due to his volatile behavior, the interrogations yielded little. Officially, the mission to extract intelligence from the enemy's ringleader was declared a failure.
But Mike knew better.
Both the old man and Jiang had already compiled their analysis and handed over secret reports—reports that no one else knew existed.
Since then, Mike had become more cautious. More calculating.
Outsiders only knew that Mike had a powerful prisoner from Shencheng—someone being held under extreme secrecy, someone Mike had no intention of killing just yet.
But in truth, Mike was giving the man behind Chen Yanshuo time—to react, to make a move. Killing Chen prematurely might trigger hidden contingencies, or close the last window into the enemy's inner workings.
Mike wasn't reckless. But he wasn't merciful either.
"On the day we march on Shencheng, priority number one is destroying Chen Yanshuo's shelter."
Mike reminded himself of this every single day.
Let the man lose all his mechanical benefits before he dies—that was the only way to ensure absolute safety.
Beyond this core matter, the last two weeks had been rather productive in other ways—Mike's daily talent rewards had notably improved.
He wasn't sure if Lin Yue's return had anything to do with it, but his luck had clearly turned around.
Over a dozen talent draws—none below S-tier. Among them, three were SS-tier Grand Rewards.
Unfortunately, none of them were personnel units.
And Mike had seen first-hand just how game-changing a top-tier talent could be. He now craved nothing more than SS or even SSS-tier talent units. But perhaps because of their rarity and overwhelming power, recruitment chances were incredibly low.
Instead, all three SS-tier rewards were weapons:
[Sky-Splitting Cloudpiercer Sword] (SS Tier)Effects: [Sever], [Instant Death], [Sword Shadows]
Sever: Each strike inflicts an unhealable rift wound if the enemy's rank is lower than the wielder's.
Instant Death: Automatically kills lower-ranked targets on hit.
Sword Shadows: Generates sword clones based on the user's strength. Each clone retains both Sever and Instant Death effects.
[Nether Soul-Cleaver Blade] (SS Tier)Effects: [Drain], [Shadowstep], [Absorb]
Drain: Converts a portion of inflicted damage into healing. Repeated hits may trigger instant decapitation on severely weakened targets.
Shadowstep: Enables 100m instant movement with brief invincibility, ignoring same-rank tracking mechanisms. Cooldown: 1–3 seconds based on user's strength.
Absorb: Generates an ever-growing, non-decaying damage-blocking shield after each kill, proportional to the healing done.
[Celestial Starcrash Whip] (SS Tier)Effects: [Starburst], [Rapid Hits], [Mass Pressure]
Starburst: Destroys any metallic or mineral-based object on hit, even if higher-ranked.
Rapid Hits: Each consecutive strike within 2 seconds increases damage by 10%, up to 1000 stacks. Enhances Starburst and Mass Pressure.
Mass Pressure: Delivers one metric ton of force with every strike. Lost if weapon is damaged.
Each of these weapons was incredibly unique and undoubtedly powerful.
But for Mike, they were just… accessories.
Weaponry was vital in the early stages of the apocalypse. But now? Mike's standards had evolved. What he really needed were elite people, not just tools.
Still, he didn't hoard them.
The sword went to Wang Chen. The blade to Chen Dapeng. The whip to Squad Leader Wang.
All three were his key battle assets. They needed powerful gear for future missions, and Mike never played favorites—if better gear came in, it would be distributed fairly.
Before long, three days flew by.
And with it, the Fourth Apocalypse Preparation Protocol had officially begun.