For a moment, all three of them fell silent.
The sound of rain pounding on their eardrums, the pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the train’s metal surface, resembled a dirge on a coffin lid, giving Yan Wei a splitting headache.
He muttered to himself, “…Our sleeper compartment is so cold.”
Yan Mingguang tightened his grip on Yan Wei’s hand.
“What is the person who likely created this train trying to do? What did the people on the train betray him for?” Lin Qing asked, her eyes flickering with understanding.
If it were a normal situation, how could such a bizarre series of events occur?
Naturally, it was not normal.
The most abnormal thing about this train…
Yan Mingguang’s voice, calm and unhurried, broke the silence, “A train that never stops, never ends.”
“Zeus might be the owner, creator, or conductor of the train, someone with authority over everyone else; the punished Prometheus is us, and also the ghosts before their deaths; as for the evil eagle that pecked at Prometheus’ liver, it could be understood as the punished who turned into ghosts becoming the executioners, or it could be the train attendants. If the death list was written by them, they fit the concept of ‘execution’ and the characteristic of unchanging repetition day after day.”
“These points are clear,” Yan Mingguang said, “Only two things remain unclear, what is the ‘fire’? Why does the train never stop?”
“The ‘fire’ must be related to the train’s endless nature,” Yan Wei concluded, “As for what exactly was done and what was betrayed, we’ll wait until tomorrow when my Undying State activates. We’ll capture a ghost and use these keywords to force Ding Xiao to watch the ghost’s Retrospection.”
Everything circled back to the most crucial core—what these murderous ghosts did in their lives that led to their gruesome deaths and transformation into these terrifying entities.
As long as they could figure out what exactly happened, breaking the situation would be halfway to success.
Yan Wei glanced at the stacked meal boxes between the three of them and said, “Let’s eat first. After Ding Xiao and the others return this afternoon, we’ll cross-check the information. It’ll probably be dark by then. Tonight…”
He rubbed his hand against Yan Mingguang’s palm, capturing the other’s warmth. But he could also feel that the back of Yan Mingguang’s hand was slightly cold. This man wasn’t wearing much more than him, just relying on his good physique to not feel the cold as much as Yan Wei did.
Even Yan Mingguang felt cold?
Yan Wei’s expression paused.
He narrowed his eyes, scanning the small space before him.
The curtains swayed slightly due to the train’s movement, causing the gloomy light seeping through to flicker. The small sleeper compartment was chilly and dim. All reflective surfaces were completely covered, giving off a lifeless aura.
Lin Qing was opening the meal box, while Yan Mingguang held his hand.
“What is it?” the man asked, not waiting for Yan Wei’s response before adding, “Something’s not right.”
Yan Wei glanced at Yan Mingguang.
In this instance, Yan Mingguang didn’t seem as confident as he was in the Puppet Castle instance. Despite that, this man remained calm and composed, silently searching for clues without any panic over his Body Index being unusable.
Yan Wei had now regained his memories from his first Ascension and knew Yan Mingguang’s style well.
For Yan Mingguang to openly say something wasn’t right…
The next moment, the two of them almost simultaneously stood up, each looking towards the shadowy areas under the lower bunks on either side—the only blind spots in the compartment.
—There was nothing there.
Yan Wei retracted his gaze, inexplicably recalling the head that had been watching him and Ding Xiao earlier, his brow furrowing slightly. “This pervasive sense of being watched on the train…”
Lin Qing, who had remained expressionless throughout, finished arranging the meal boxes and said, “I feel the same, but I didn’t see anything.”
“After eating, we’ll check everything and all the blind spots in here again. Then…”
Yan Wei opened the tin foil on his meal box, the steam hitting his face, carrying the aroma of seasoning. He picked up the metal fork beside him and said, “Lin Qing, there’s something I need you to do later.”
Lin Qing paused, “Go on.”
“The others won’t be idle. Zhao Jingchen went to the front earlier, and it won’t be long before he realizes the train has no end. When he returns, I’ll distract him. You go to the small blackboard in the dining car and write 1202 below 1109. Then find Cao Qun—he won’t stay away from the dining car and Carriage 11 for too long. Tell him to keep his key card in his pocket and walk around the area. Let him know we can help him. As a high-level player, he’ll understand.”
“1202… the first lower bunk in Carriage 12, where those two cowards from Yue Mang are staying,” Lin Qing pondered. “Today, everyone will have found something. Zhao Jingchen isn’t stupid. By this afternoon, he’ll realize that the bed numbers appearing on the blackboard can’t be a good thing. You want him to think he’s being targeted, and when he sees Cao Qun’s key card is easy to steal, he’ll take it and sleep in Bed 1101, hoist by his own petard?”
Yan Mingguang added, “Zhao Jingchen should be sleeping in the upper bunk. There are marks from the railing on his wrist.”
In each carriage, the bed numbers start from the first upper bunk, numbered from top to bottom. The first upper bunk is 01, the first lower bunk is 02, the second upper bunk is 03, the second lower bunk is 04, and so on, with the numbering continuing in the next sleeper compartment starting from 05.
1202 is the first lower bunk in Carriage 12.
“That’s exactly the effect I want. He’s not stupid—in fact, anyone who appears in this instance has experience with intrigue. If we directly wrote Zhao Jingchen’s bed number, he’d immediately suspect someone was setting him up. Writing a bed he doesn’t sleep in will make him worry that there’s something wrong with that bed affecting him, and he’ll find another way. The best way would be to change his sleeping place.”
And at that time, what if there’s a Cao Qun with a key card casually tucked in his outer pocket, constantly wandering around outside?
“Clang—” “Clang—” “…”
The train had been running for a full day. In the real world, that would be enough time to travel from one city to another far away. But the rain continued, and it was unclear if this instance only had overcast and rainy days, making people feel increasingly irritable.
Zhao Jingchen hurried back from the front carriages, not daring to look back.
Behind him, He Dong whispered nervously, “That feeling of being watched is gone.”
They had already passed the two carriages behind where the train attendants lived. Two more carriages ahead would be the attendants’ rooms, followed by the dining car.
Zhao Jingchen also noticed the disappearance of the spine-chilling sensation. He slowed his pace and said, “We’ve walked through over forty carriages, right? Looking ahead, it’s still the same endless depth. This train has no end…”
“What if it’s an illusion?” He Dong suggested. “This kind of trick isn’t uncommon. The next carriage might be the front of the train, but the ghosts have created a visual illusion to prevent us from moving forward. The fact that we were being watched by those entities earlier also makes sense—it was to make us turn back quickly.”
Zhao Jingchen continued walking forward, shaking his head. “That thing appeared when we mentioned the train having no end. It was a warning. Today, we weren’t the only ones moving forward. I now understand why they all turned back.”
“There must be something wrong—”
Zhao Jingchen’s words were cut short.
They had reached the first hard-seat carriage after the dining car and the attendants’ living quarters, and Yan Wei’s figure came into view.
Yan Wei stood beside Yan Mingguang, the two of them carefully observing a row of seats, clearly searching for clues. Lin Qing, unusually, wasn’t with them, and her whereabouts were unknown.
As Zhao Jingchen and He Dong entered the carriage, Yan Wei noticed their approach and stopped what he was doing, turning to look at them.
When their eyes met, Zhao Jingchen smiled.
Earlier in the day, he had wasted some time cleaning off the filth on him. His hoodie jacket had been torn apart, so he had completely changed his outfit. This time, however, he didn’t cover most of his face with a hood as he had before. Instead, he openly revealed his handsome, delicate face—all because of Yan Wei’s reaction when he had seen his face earlier.
Sure enough, this time, Yan Wei also showed a look of disgust and anger.
“What have you found?”
Yan Wei stared at his face and said coldly, “What we’ve found has nothing to do with you.”
Zhao Jingchen walked forward slowly, shrugging. “Players aren’t in competition. Sharing clues benefits everyone.”
“No need,” Yan Wei turned away, continuing his search of the area. “Just looking at your face makes me sick.”
“Shouldn’t it bring back memories? Zhou Tian got along well with you…”
Yan Mingguang shot him a cold glance, and Yan Wei ignored him.
Zhao Jingchen walked down the narrow aisle, passing Yan Wei. Yan Wei moved further into the seat, clearly unwilling to have any contact with Zhao Jingchen.
Suddenly, Zhao Jingchen stopped.
Behind him, He Dong asked, “Why are you stopping?”
Zhao Jingchen glanced at Yan Wei. He remembered how, earlier that morning, he had been cornered by two mirrors, nearly losing his life and even sacrificing a Legendary Item he had relied on for so long. At that time, Yan Wei, whom he had never paid much attention to, stood there clean and tidy, looking down at him.
As if watching a clown.
Zhao Jingchen’s eyes darkened, the features that had always maintained a sweet smile on Zhou Tian’s face slightly twisted. The darkness in his heart grew, and he couldn’t help but want to see Yan Wei lose his composure.
He said, “Yan Wei, do you know why I changed this face?”
Yan Wei’s movements paused.
“I don’t know if Zhou Tian ever mentioned it to you, but strictly speaking, I was with her—though it was with a different face at the time. Back then, I had changed my identity to go to a lower-level instance to retrieve an item. I descended many, many levels and coincidentally met her. I quite liked her face, so I stayed with her. Later, I got the item in an instance, changed my face again, and returned to the higher levels. She… probably thought I died in that instance, right?”
Yan Wei, who was pretending to inspect the area under the seat, tightened his grip on the seatback.
He didn’t speak, but the sides of his fingertips turned from red to white from the force.
Zhao Jingchen walked away with a satisfied smile.
Yan Mingguang leaned down slightly, his broad hand gently sliding over Yan Wei’s back, as if soothing a tense cat. The man’s voice carried no bias, sounding like a final judgment: “He won’t live to see tomorrow.”
Yan Wei’s grip loosened slightly.
His ears twitched. Even without Perception, his hearing was sharper than most. He caught the sounds from the front carriages.
The footsteps of the two men grew fainter but suddenly stopped not far away—they must have reached the end of the dining car. Amidst the train’s noise, there seemed to be a short gasp from He Dong.
Yan Wei chuckled softly and said, “He won’t live to see tomorrow.”
By evening, Ding Xiao and Xu Miaomiao returned from the rear carriages.
Ding Xiao looked pale and went straight to the sleeper compartment to rest. Xu Miaomiao ran into Yan Wei in the corridor of the sleeper car.
“Sister Ding used four items at once,” Xu Miaomiao’s expression wasn’t good either, even showing signs of lingering fear. “This time, we went further back than when we went forward. We didn’t reach the end but encountered a ghost. Sister Ding had to use four items to ensure we returned safely.”
Yan Wei’s eyes flickered with thought. “Ding Xiao and I encountered a ghost in the hard-seat carriages in the front, but after we turned back, the ghost didn’t attack us. How could four items be consumed at once? Is there something unusual about going backward?”
Although Yan Wei wasn’t sure of Ding Xiao’s current level, he could tell from the other players’ attitudes towards her that her strength was likely on par with Lin Qing’s.
For Ding Xiao to be in such danger, how perilous must the rear be?
Xu Miaomiao said, “No, there’s nothing unusual. Going towards the rear of the train, we first passed sleeper carriages similar to ours. After about a dozen, we entered hard-seat carriages. We walked through dozens of them, just like when we went forward—no end in sight, no head to be seen. Sister Ding felt it was a waste of time, calculated the return time, and continued forward. That’s when we felt the ghost’s gaze—but Sister Ding didn’t turn back at that time.”
“We kept moving forward, and the ghost started attacking us. That’s how it ended up like this. But it wasn’t a complete waste. Those ghosts don’t seem too difficult to deal with. They’re not the kind that kill with every attack. If all of us moved forward together, well-prepared, we could probably walk through hundreds, even thousands of carriages—if there are that many.”
Yan Wei understood. “But this attempt is unnecessary and almost suicidal, because walking that far and not being able to return would mean certain death. The train has no end, and walking that far might still lead to nothing.”
“Exactly.”
“It’s almost dark. Let Sister Ding rest well. The sleeper compartments involved don’t include you, so you should be safe tonight.”
“But you…”
“Don’t worry about us. The bed numbers on the blackboard have nothing to do with me.”
Xu Miaomiao raised an eyebrow, not asking further, clearly understanding the underlying meaning. She said, “Then I’ll head back.”
After watching Xu Miaomiao return to her sleeper compartment, Yan Wei turned and went back to theirs. Yan Mingguang and Lin Qing were already waiting inside.
But he didn’t close the door, instead sitting down beside Yan Mingguang and asking Lin Qing, “Everything done?”
“All done.”
About ten minutes later.
The rain grew heavier. The sun, hidden by the dark clouds, seemed on the verge of disappearing completely. The light seeping through the curtains was nearly gone. The smell of rust filled the air, and the damp chill wrapped around Yan Wei, making him instinctively shrink closer to Yan Mingguang.
In the dimness, a figure slipped into Yan Wei’s sleeper compartment and immediately closed the door behind them.
The person whispered, “Lin Qing discussed it with me earlier. I can stay with you tonight.”
Lin Qing glanced at Yan Wei, and upon seeing his nod, she said, “Alright, we have an empty bunk.”
“Clang—” “Clang—” “Clang—” “…”
“Pitter-patter—” “Pitter-patter—” “Pitter-patter—” “…”
Amidst the sounds of rain and machinery, Cao Qun whispered, “It’s done.”
