Translator: AnubisTL
"I'm good at plastering walls. Is that useful?"
"Next."
"I used to be a lawyer."
"What's Article 150 of the Federal Marriage Act?"
"Uh... I specialized in criminal law."
"What's Article 236 of the Federal Criminal Law?"
"We lawyers can't memorize every article. We look them up as needed."
"That's the article on rape, you idiot. Next."
"I'm an e-commerce livestream host. I'm good at hyping up products and shouting '3, 2, 1, link' with passion."
"Next."
"I used to swing a sledgehammer on construction sites."
"Relevant experience. Next."
"I used to be a bureau director. I have management experience."
"Wait—"
Old Pig suddenly paused, his eyes widening as he recognized the portly middle-aged man before him. He grinned, stood up, and extended both hands. "Director Zhu! It's me, Old Pig! Remember me? I worked under you for three years back in the day."
"Chief Zhu," the man said awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. "About what happened back then... I owe you an apology."
"Forget about it," Old Pig waved dismissively, chuckling as he sat back down. "The past is the past. The apocalypse is here now. We're all just barely surviving. What's the point of dwelling on old grudges?"
"You're making me sound like some vindictive person. Don't you know what kind of man I am?"
"Xiao Li, take note."
"This one will mine until he dies."
"Next."
"..."
The young man who had been following Uncle Li closely stared at Old Pig sitting at the table, his eyes wide with shock. After a long silence, he murmured, "Uncle Li, how does Trainmaster Zhu know everything from astronomy to geography?"
"Isn't that range of knowledge a bit too broad?"
"He's not a lawyer. Why is he so familiar with federal criminal law?"
Uncle Li shook his head, his expression complex. He had always believed he had management experience and that, as deputy conductor, he could do just as well as Old Pig. Now, it seemed he had underestimated Old Pig and overestimated himself.
He wasn't surprised Old Pig knew criminal law; after all, he had likely encountered it in his work.
But Old Pig knowing otaku songs?
That was absurd.
Uncle Li hadn't even recognized the song as an otaku song. Given Old Pig's job, he should have had no exposure to such things. The breadth of knowledge required was simply too vast.
"Uncle Li, with so many new people on the train, competition for the good jobs is going to get even fiercer."
"Mm."
Uncle Li sighed and nodded. If these people were represented as data, they would amount to just over 1,900 individuals—not a particularly large number.
But their pre-apocalypse professions were incredibly diverse, spanning every trade and social class.
There were people from all walks of life.
On the Stellaris train, everyone was working at their assigned posts.
The second guard team was responsible for monitoring the train's exterior and supervising the residents' mining activities, preventing violent incidents. The third guard team maintained order within the train.
Guard Team One was fully immersed in the Combat Training Virtual Space, continuing their rigorous training.
In Carriage 11 stood a refrigerator draped with a red cloth—what the residents jokingly called the Red House.
Inside the refrigerator were several single beds, each surrounded by rolled-up curtains. When a client arrived, the curtains would be lowered to provide a relatively private space. When unoccupied, the curtains remained rolled up.
At that moment, about thirty young women were gathered inside, laughing and playfully teasing each other.
There were no clients.
The residents were all outside mining. Clients would begin trickling in after the evening shift ended.
"Sister Qiu Mei," a girl lying on a single bed, her bare feet swinging in the air, said softly, her voice tinged with resignation, "Could you please keep it down? You're being so loud."
"You girls are always shouting, day and night. I'm starting to feel like I'm going to have a nervous breakdown."
"Oh, come on," Qiu Mei said, sitting on the floor with a hair clip holding her wavy curls in place. She nonchalantly puffed on a cigarette. "You should be grateful you even have someone to shout at. When you're on your deathbed, your biggest regret will be not saying enough."
"Besides, aren't you leaving soon? Why bother worrying about us?"
"You'll be moving into a big house with your little lover soon enough."
The words hung in the air, followed by a chorus of silvery laughter from the other girls.
The woman fell silent, continuing to lie on the bed, a flicker of longing in her eyes. From the moment she stepped into the Red House, her first client had been a middle-aged man.
Perhaps it was fate, but they fell in love at first sight.
The man forbade her from taking any more clients, promising to work hard and earn enough stellar coupons to get them both a refrigerator to live in.
She believed him.
Since then, she had refused all clients. Every night, she drew the curtains, curled up in bed, and waited for the man to come. During the day, she cleaned the train's locomotive cabins to earn her daily food and a meager handful of stellar coupons. In truth, she could have left the Red House altogether, since she no longer took clients.
But leaving the Red House meant losing her comfortable living arrangement.
So she stayed.
It was exploiting a loophole in the train's management, but with the train's rapid expansion, no one noticed her insignificant presence. Every night, she shared the single bed with her lover, living a surprisingly decent life.
Just then—
"Damn it, I'm exhausted," a middle-aged man cursed as he barged into the Red House.
The girls who had been playing cards instantly sprang to their feet, their expressions a mix of fear and respect as they said, "Trainmaster Zhu."
"Hmm," Old Pig grunted, his gaze sweeping over the group before settling on the girl sprawled on the bed. A flicker of suspicion crossed his eyes. "I don't think I've seen you around before. You'll do for today."
With that, he strode to the girl's bed, sat down, and began removing his shoes.
"What are you standing there for? Close the curtain."
"Huh?" The girl froze, panic flashing in her eyes. She instinctively took a step back, desperate to refuse but terrified of Trainmaster Zhu's command. If she were exposed, her lover would no longer be able to share her bed at night and would have to return to the cramped dormitory.
"Trainmaster Zhu."
Qiu Mei stepped forward, her face beaming as she greeted him, leaning against Old Pig with a seductive glint in her eyes. "What's this? You don't fancy me today? That little girl looks like she doesn't know a thing. What do you want with her?"
"Heh."
Old Pig glanced at the two women and chuckled. He slipped on his shoes and stood casually, saying, "Spill it. If I find out myself, you'll both be dead."
The smile froze on Qiu Mei's face. After a long pause, she whispered, "She has a lover. Even though she lives in the Red House, she doesn't take clients."
Five minutes later, having gotten to the bottom of the situation, Old Pig left the Red House. His earlier desire to relax had vanished. Since the girl had a lover and refused clients, he naturally wouldn't force the issue.
But this was a glaring loophole in his management.
He needed to return and plug it immediately.
Aish!
Couldn't he catch a break? He was exhausted! And these damned residents—couldn't they stop exploiting every loophole? It was infuriating!
Inside the Combat Training Virtual Space:
Biaozi lay prone on the rooftop, his breathing steady and slow, a dagger clutched in his hand. He seemed to blend seamlessly into the night, like a seasoned assassin.
This was a new map:
"Dragon Fortress."
He had already attempted it countless times, each attempt ending in death. This was his ninth try. Like the Resident Evil map, completing this map would grant a reward to his comprehensive physical fitness.
It was a castle map.
The castle was teeming with dragon-like monsters. Deep at its core was a dragon egg, which he needed to infiltrate the fortress, steal, and escape with successfully to complete the mission.
His only weapon was the dagger in his hand.
Initially, his plan was to sneak in undetected, avoiding all the monsters. But he soon realized this was impossible. He had to eliminate the patrolling monsters along key routes.
However, killing even one monster would trigger a roar, summoning all the others.
He needed to be precise and ruthless, killing with a single strike before the creature could make a sound, ensuring a silent infiltration.
The map had no time limit.
The rooftop served as his starting point. He had been lying there for a full fifteen minutes, his entire life flashing through his mind like a rapid slideshow. He was reminiscing about his life.
This might be the last time he would ever think.
He felt a pang of regret.
He had once believed that surviving the apocalypse had stripped him of his fear of death. After all, in such a world, dying was neither a blessing nor a curse; no one would mourn leaving behind this wretched post-apocalyptic existence.
But now—
He realized he still clung to life.
How to explain it?
After eight consecutive failures, eight consecutive failures demanding peak mental concentration, he was mentally exhausted. As he prepared to enter the map for the ninth time, he absentmindedly selected "Extreme Difficulty."
Yes, that's how it happened.
He had failed even the Normal Difficulty eight times in a row, yet on his ninth attempt, he accidentally chose Extreme Difficulty.
In this mode, death within the map meant brain death in the real world.
In Extreme Difficulty, the monsters' attacks were far more lethal.
Given these circumstances...
"..."
Biaozi lay on the rooftop, clutching his dagger to his chest, trying to steady his breathing. But when he gazed up at the star-strewn sky, a flicker of despair and resentment flashed in his eyes.
How the fuck could I make such a stupid mistake?!
Can't I just quit?
I'm still at the starting point! I haven't even moved! Why can't I quit now?!
If the outside world cut off the energy supply to the Combat Training Virtual Space, would it count as a successful completion, a forced exit, or would he be declared dead?
If he suffered brain death, could the Medical Pod save him?
Could it just be that he was too tired and having a dream? When he opened his eyes again, would he find himself back in Guard Car No. 7?
Biaozi squeezed his eyes shut, then abruptly opened them after a long moment.
Good.
It wasn't a dream.
He glanced down at the dagger in his hand, then turned his gaze toward the patrolling monsters within the castle. He wanted to cry, but no tears came. He desperately wanted to wail aloud.
He dared not make a single move.
If he couldn't even pass the Normal difficulty, how could he possibly survive Extreme Difficulty?
Lord Mang!
Can you see me? Can you find a way to save me?
In the locomotive cabin, Chen Mang watched Biaozi lying motionless on the rooftop for nearly twenty minutes. After a long silence, he murmured, "Xiao Ai, I don't think Biaozi was trying to challenge his limits."
"Is it possible he accidentally selected Extreme Difficulty?"
"The chances are slim," Xiao Ai said. "When selecting Extreme Difficulty, a confirmation prompt appears. It's unlikely he'd accidentally confirm it twice."
Chen Mang pondered for a moment before nodding in agreement. How could someone be so careless? he thought. It's like a train conductor accidentally opening the cover for the "Immediate Self-Destruct" button, then accidentally pressing it, and then accidentally confirming the action on the screen.
That's impossible.
Yet he couldn't recall ever pressuring Biaozi. How had Biaozi pushed himself to the brink of death, seeking a breakthrough?
Could his trusted subordinate really die in the simulation?
"If the energy is cut off, he'll die, right?"
"Yes, he'll be immediately declared dead."
"Even the Medical Pod wouldn't be able to cure brain death?"
"Correct."
"Good." Chen Mang nodded silently, letting out a weary sigh. After a long silence, he resolved to make Wildcat the captain of Guard Team One. He wondered if Wildcat could handle the responsibility.
"Brother Biao... how do you spell that?"
By now, all the members of Guard Team One had left the Combat Training Virtual Space and were gathered around the machine Biaozi had entered, a coffin-like device, exchanging worried glances.
Two large, crimson characters glowed on the machine's screen:
[Dragon Fortress].
The indicator lights on the device were also red, signaling that Brother Biao was attempting the Dragon Fortress map on Extreme Difficulty. Yet they all knew he hadn't even cleared the normal difficulty version.
How could he jump straight to Extreme Difficulty?
"Brother Biao is risking everything," Wildcat said through gritted teeth, his voice strained. "He once told me that those of us with ordinary talent must work harder and sweat more to become stronger!"
"Either clear the map and become the first on the train to conquer Dragon Fortress on Extreme Difficulty, earning the pioneer's reward..."
"Or die trying!"
"I've made my decision—"
"If I want to follow in Brother Biao's footsteps, I must have the same 'fight to the death and rise from the ashes' courage as he does."
"I'm going too!"
With that, Wildcat strode toward the Combat Training Virtual Space nearby. Before anyone could react, two large words appeared on the now-closed device:
[Resident Evil]
(End of the Chapter)
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