Every time a post discussing Bai Liu appeared on the forum, it would inevitably end in people tearing each other apart. The main point of contention was the core promotion position Bai Liu had received last time, and whether he deserved it.
Many players believed Bai Liu's strength was too weak. He might be somewhat clever, but he wasn't worthy of such a prime core promotion position. Others questioned why Bai Liu's worthiness had anything to do with them in the first place.
Wang Shun had watched several of these arguments, and in summary, most of the players who disliked Bai Liu felt that he didn't deserve the position.
The last person to trigger such a large-scale argument during their newcomer period had been Du Sanying.
Du Sanying's luck value was 100. No matter what he did, everything went smoothly. Points poured steadily into his account. Many players were jealous and insulted him daily, claiming that someone who relied solely on luck didn't deserve to exist and would die in the game sooner or later.
Some argued that Du Sanying was indeed powerful and that his personal skill was strong. However, this defense was usually dismissed with the rebuttal: "Let Du Sanying's luck value drop to 0 and then we'll see if he still has any strength."
Yet once Du Sanying firmly secured a spot in the top three of the Rising Stars ranking, no one dared to insult or provoke him anymore, and the situation improved considerably.
Now Bai Liu's luck value was 0, and he had reached the core promotion position purely through his strength and intelligence. Nevertheless, the same group still found him unpleasant or claimed he wasn't worthy of the position.
It seemed that whether someone deserved it wasn't the real issue. What mattered was the position itself. As long as someone climbed to that spot, it didn't matter who they were—they would be deemed unworthy. As long as the person who rose wasn't themselves, others would nitpick any flaw and magnify it for everyone to see.
Wang Shun shook his head and stopped listening to the players' discussions. He turned his attention to the small TVs in front of him and faced the same dilemma: whose broadcast should he watch?
Puppet Master's small TV had activated paid mode. Mu Sicheng's small TV had also activated paid mode. Du Sanying, ranked third on the Rising Stars list, usually played steadily without dramatic ups and downs. He had a moderate number of paying viewers, so his live broadcast rarely entered paid mode.
As a newcomer, Bai Liu naturally hadn't activated paid mode. Yet as a free player, Bai Liu had an even smaller audience than Puppet Master—let alone Du Sanying.
Du Sanying's popularity had always been high, and his stream was free. In a game broadcast where three gods had gathered and the topic was trending, players unwilling to pay flooded into Du Sanying's viewing area. From a distance, his section was packed. The number of viewers exceeded even Mu Sicheng's and Puppet Master's areas.
With Puppet Master's influence, even the three puppet players, such as Li Gou, had quite good viewership—far higher than Bai Liu's. Only Bai Liu's viewing area looked deserted.
Wang Shun couldn't bear it. He sighed and walked toward Bai Liu's viewing area.
In a situation where multiple top players were clashing, and most of the audience couldn't wait to watch the big gods' broadcasts, how could they spare attention for a newcomer? Most of Bai Liu's traffic had been siphoned away. It was only natural.
[301 people liked Bai Liu's small TV]
[89 people bookmarked Player Bai Liu}
[210 people are watching Player Bai Liu]
[0 people have charged player Bai Liu.]
[Player Bai Liu, please work hard! Your number of likes is only 1% of Du Sanying's, who ranks first in comprehensive data among the game's small and medium broadcasts in Exploding Last Train!]
"Du Sanying has 30,000 likes. How long has the game even been running?" Wang Shun sighed.
He watched as Du Sanying quickly obtained the first promotion position and left this zone for the central hall. Wang Shun sighed again and gave Bai Liu a like. "Come on, Bai Liu. Don't fall into No Man's Land."
Du Sanying stood outside the platform, almost pressing his face against the ticket. "That's strange. Why are the departure station and the terminal station the same?"
The LED clock on the platform behind him reached [00:10]. The moment the countdown entered ten seconds, the station plunged into total darkness. A second later, the lights flickered back on—but no longer white. They glowed a dark, pulsing red.
The subway station turned red and black. Under the flickering light, it resembled a darkroom used for developing photos. From the end of the tracks, a train with red lights roared out of the deep tunnel like the glowing eyes of a beast eager to devour its prey. It rushed into the station and slowly stopped in front of Du Sanying.
The female mechanical voice of the subway station announced coldly, "Passengers on the train have arrived at the terminal station of Antique City. Please disembark at your destination. The train is about to begin its next round of operation…"
As the announcement played, the train doors in front of Du Sanying slowly opened. The stench of burnt flesh rushed out with the wind from the arriving train. The intense smell filled his nostrils, forcing him to cover his mouth and cough.
Du Sanying looked up at Line 4, the train he was about to board. Under the flickering lights, it appeared empty at first—the handholds swayed gently on their own. Then, in the next instant, it was packed with passengers like a rush-hour train in a major city. It was so crowded that Du Sanying couldn't even squeeze in.
The red LED clock behind him jumped to [00:05]. The shift seemed to trigger something—the station's ventilation system abruptly stopped.
The temperature rose rapidly. The loudspeakers melted like candles, dripping softened material. The female voice on the radio became distorted, eventually repeating "44444" in a warped tone. Du Sanying guessed she was trying to say "Line 4."
The passengers waiting beside him began boarding the train. Under the dark red lights, their silhouettes flickered unnaturally. As they walked, some suddenly ignited without a sound, transforming into burning corpses.
The flames scorched the skin from their faces, turning it black and curled, exposing yellow fat that melted and dripped to the ground. Their limbs convulsed and shrank in the heat. Thick black smoke poured from their bodies. Yet they seemed unaware of the fire consuming them and continued boarding the train as if nothing were wrong.
The train gradually filled with charred bodies—sitting, standing, clinging to the handholds, leaning against the doors. The flames melted the plastic handles. The windows cracked under the intense heat. Still, the "passengers" kept staring down at their burnt phones, as if oblivious to the horror.
If not for the flames, they would have looked like ordinary exhausted commuters on the last train home.
[System tip: Player Du Sanying, please board the train immediately.]
"No…" Du Sanying muttered, speechless. "What kind of game is this? Are you trying to get me killed? The carriage is on fire. If I go in, won't I just turn into a roast?"
The viewers in front of his small TV burst into laughter.
"Trying to get you killed? Relax, no one's killing Xiao Ying!"
"Xiao Ying, trust your luck value! Maybe the fire will go out once you board!"
"Wait—look! There aren't just burning people on that train! There are players too!"
"Damn! Who's crazy enough to board directly? Aren't they afraid of dying?!"
Among the countless charred corpses stood a fair-skinned man in a white shirt and suit pants. He looked like an ordinary office worker as he turned to speak to the person beside him.
The person he was talking to had a lollipop in his mouth and his hands in his pockets. He looked like a college student. He leaned closer, as if listening carefully, then raised an eyebrow and smirked. His sharp features made the expression particularly eye-catching.
On a train engulfed in smoke and fire, where every other passenger was burned black, these two seemingly normal and strikingly handsome individuals stood out immediately.
The audience watching Du Sanying's broadcast exploded.
"Holy shit! It's God Mu! God Mu is so handsome!"
"Who's that office worker? He's so calm."
Mu Sicheng watched as Bai Liu returned to his original appearance and chuckled. "Why did you change back? Do you think the shama style doesn't suit you?"
"The live broadcast has started. I adjusted my face back to attract viewers," Bai Liu replied shamelessly while straightening his sleeves. "People are visual creatures. I have a decent face—I should make good use of it to earn money."
"There's another reason." Bai Liu glanced sideways at Mu Sicheng. "It'll make it easier for the Puppet Master, who came to catch me, to find me."
The smile faded slightly from Mu Sicheng's face. He clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Bai Liu, are you really planning to use yourself as bait to lure the Puppet Master? He's skilled, and your plan has plenty of loopholes. Even if I cooperate with you, killing him might not succeed…"
"Shh." Bai Liu pressed a finger to his lips. He looked at the LED countdown clock outside the train, which displayed [00:01], and whispered, "It's about to hit zero. The players will board."
"Suit yourself." Mu Sicheng leaned against the train door and lowered his voice. "In any case, it's you who's most likely to die in your plan, not me. It doesn't matter to me. If you want to die, go ahead."