Translator: AnubisTL
Another panel materialized before him:
Weapon Name: gls Pistol
Weapon Tier: Tier 1
Weapon Effect: Can load up to Tier 1 ammunition; effective against Tier 1 armor, monsters, and other targets.
Chen Mang gazed at the panel, then patted the brass bullets in his pocket.
Another panel appeared, identifying them as Tier 1 standard ammunition.
"Interesting," Chen Mang murmured thoughtfully. He was beginning to understand this world. After the apocalypse, supernatural forces had drastically altered reality, resulting in its current state. He wondered if pre-Apocalypse firearms would still function.
According to Old Pig, even if an ordinary person found a Train Token, it wouldn't mean much.
The Train Tokens sold at the market probably weren't in high demand either, since only Train Conductors frequented the place—who else would need a second one?
Even with a Train Token, upgrading the train required resources. Acquiring resources meant needing slaves, and managing slaves meant needing thugs. And to control the thugs...
You needed a foundation first.
In other words...
First, he needed to assemble a core team.
If he could take control of all the slaves on this train, he'd have three hundred—enough to start his own operation. However, the Train Conductor had yet to reveal himself, and even the thugs guarding the train were a formidable challenge, not to mention the heavy machine guns mounted on the roof.
Heavy machine guns were utterly devastating against carbon-based lifeforms. He doubted he could withstand more than a few rounds.
Meanwhile, in the mine cave, Old Pig swung his pickaxe, sweat dripping down his face as he furrowed his brow and gritted his teeth, his mind racing.
He had pledged his allegiance to Chen Mang so quickly not just because Chen Mang was a skilled fighter with decisive ruthlessness, but also because of the unwavering conviction radiating from him. Throughout his life, Old Pig had observed that those who achieved greatness all possessed that same unshakeable conviction.
People with such intense conviction typically met one of three fates: success, sudden death, or having their spirit crushed by relentless setbacks.
Old Pig had no desire to remain a slave any longer. He was willing to gamble on a new path. So he approached Chen Mang, and as expected, Chen Mang immediately began questioning him about the train. Normally, slaves wouldn't even dream of caring about how to acquire a train.
This was precisely his advantage. The other slaves knew nothing of these matters; only he, the former deputy train conductor, understood them.
If Chen Mang could become the Train Conductor, he was certain to secure a place in the core team, instantly transforming his life. The biggest hurdle now was obtaining a Train Token for Chen Mang.
Four hours later...
As Chen Mang explored the mine cave, his walkie-talkie suddenly blared with a frantic shout: "Everyone evacuate immediately! Evacuate now!!!"
The volume was so loud it made his eardrums ring.
In an instant!
Before Chen Mang could even react, the slaves in the mine, their faces pale with fear, frantically stuffed the freshly mined iron ore into their pockets and bolted back the way they had come.
The uneven, egg-sized lumps of iron ore represented one unit of iron ore. Chen Mang had personally witnessed a slave laboring for an hour, only to pry a single egg-sized unit from the rock face.
"Run!"
Chen Mang didn't know what had happened, but when he saw Old Pig rushing toward him, his face contorted with panic, he shouted in response and turned to flee the way they had come.
The journey into the mine had taken nearly forty minutes.
The return trip was much faster.
In just over ten minutes, the group of panting slaves burst out of the Mine Cave, their eyes falling upon the train parked at the entrance and the vast, seething mass of the zombie horde looming in the distance.
"..."
Chen Mang stared at the scene, a flicker of shock crossing his eyes. The train itself was awe-inspiring—nine pitch-black carriages topped with three heavy machine guns, radiating an aura of impregnable security.
But against the backdrop of the encroaching zombie horde, it suddenly seemed dwarfed, utterly insignificant.
The stench of rotting flesh filled the air, thick and nauseating. The ground trembled faintly beneath his feet, the vibrations emanating from the thunderous advance of countless zombies just a few hundred meters away. Though the individual forms were still indistinct, the suffocating sense of impending doom was palpable.
At the open doorway of the slave car, the thugs stood snarling, their faces twisted with rage as they bellowed at Chen Mang's group, "Move your asses! Faster, you damn slaves!"
Chen Mang didn't dare waste any time. He and Old Pig immediately sprinted toward their assigned Slave Car No. 7.
The other slaves were already pouring out of the mine cave.
Before all the slaves could scramble into the carriages, and even before the doors could be closed, the train lurched into motion.
Its initial acceleration was agonizingly slow, taking nearly a minute to reach full speed. But by then, it was already too late. The zombie horde had encircled them, swarming in from nearly every direction.
Tutututu!!!
Chen Mang sat uneasily on the straw mat inside Slave Car No. 7, listening to the deafening, muffled roar of the heavy machine guns outside. The weapons had begun their thunderous barrage, but judging by the sheer number of zombies he'd seen before boarding, he doubted their effectiveness.
To break through such a zombie encirclement, he believed they needed two things: First, to replace the wheels with the tracked wheels Old Pig had mentioned, designed not to get jammed by corpses. Second, the carriage armor had to be tougher. Their slave car was clearly made of flimsy sheet metal; a single swing of a pickaxe could puncture it, let alone withstand the tidal assault of the zombie horde.
He gripped his gls Pistol tightly against his chest.
But at that moment, the weapon offered little real comfort.
The atmosphere inside the carriage was palpably tense. Many passengers were on the verge of emotional collapse, babbling incoherently or praying fervently to God. Without windows, they couldn't see what was happening outside the train.
But the relentless roar of heavy machine gun fire left no doubt: their situation was dire.
"Brother Mang," Old Pig whispered, his face pale and trembling, "I saw the zombie horde's encirclement before we boarded. It wasn't a tight seal—there were gaps."
"But those gaps are just clusters of smaller openings. To break through, we'd need to weave through the horde at breakneck speed, like a motorcyclist dodging traffic."
"The train's handling isn't as nimble as a motorcycle; its turning radius is too wide. But if the Train Conductor had installed Tier 2 Auxiliary Universal Wheels on each carriage back then, the train would be far more maneuverable. That's our only chance to escape."
"The thing is..."
"Tier 2 Auxiliary Universal Wheels aren't a mandatory requirement for upgrading a Tier 2 train to Tier 3. From what I've heard, most Train Conductors are too stingy to waste resources on them."
"If this train lacks those wheels, our chances of survival are slim to none."
(End of Chapter)
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