Chapter 31

Moreover, once the rule about moving through windows was discovered, everyone could simply escape during the day from any carriage where they’d taken food tickets. This made surviving five days even easier.

What was more noteworthy was that the mission required surviving five full days. If one “day-night” cycle counted as one day, the mission should have been completed long ago. It still wasn’t. So how exactly was time calculated here?

She voiced her doubts.

Wenren Tu nudged Zhu Ming. “You still got any energy left?”

Zhu Ming looked at her. “What for?”

Wenren Tu said, “How about heading back out and asking around with the participants behind us? See if they’ve discovered any clues we missed. If any are willing to come over, bring them back too.”

Zhu Ming was speechless. “Have I become your pack mule?”

Wenren Tu declared righteously, “I hereby appoint you as a temporary worker for the Anomaly Management Bureau.”

Zhu Ming punched her lightly. “You’re just an intern yourself, so drop the act!”

Perhaps because the Anomaly Management Bureau’s reputation was rather resounding, upon overhearing this, Sister Jia unexpectedly initiated conversation. “You two are from the Management Bureau?”

Wenren Tu nodded.

Sister Jia said, “Don’t go out. We’re about to enter a tunnel.”

Zhu Ming craned her neck to look ahead. Indeed, the tunnel was getting closer. It wouldn’t be long now.

Sister Jia raised her hand. There was a simple watch on her wrist. She said, “You asked how time is calculated here. I know. One day here is one season, lasting one hour and fifty minutes. One night is one tunnel, lasting ten minutes. We’ve been through three full cycles. Each cycle’s timing has been completely consistent. That is, one cycle of four seasons is eight hours. Three cycles make twenty-four hours. Perhaps that’s one day.”

Everyone fell silent. So everything they’d experienced up until now had only been a single day.

“That’s not so bad,” Wenren Tu said. “As long as we stockpile enough food tickets and find an empty carriage, we can just kill time.”

If only she hadn’t said that. The moment she did, Zhu Ming’s heart skipped a beat.

Was it really… that simple?

Immediately after, the train passed through the tunnel. The full twenty-four-hour day elapsed. Everyone welcomed the fourth cycle of seasons.

Fourth Cycle, Spring. Carriage No. 1 members: Zhu Ming, Wenren Tu, Sister Jia, Miss Legs.

Zhu Ming climbed out of the carriage again.

Truth be told, she felt something was off. If it weren’t for this nagging unease keeping her alert, she’d be lying flat and resting right now. After all, the food tickets in her pocket could last quite a while.

She knocked on the window of every carriage that might have participants, asking if anyone knew about the red permit. Not a single person had ever seen one.

At the same time, upon learning about moving through windows, several solitary participants were tempted and asked Zhu Ming to bring them over. Zhu Ming instructed them to take most of the food tickets from two carriages, leaving one safe carriage behind, then led them one by one to Carriage No. 1.

But there were also those who didn’t quite trust her. And after learning the window-moving trick, they could avoid ghost-dense carriages on their own. They naturally didn’t need to team up with Zhu Ming and the others.

Including that five-man squad—they had their own little group. Everyone needed food tickets, and having too many participants in a single carriage had both pros and cons. After careful consideration, the five-man squad decided to stay in the middle and clear their own stages.

Zhu Ming didn’t care. A small favor didn’t hurt, but if they weren’t willing, she wouldn’t force them. She was happy to have less work.

After transporting those people back, Zhu Ming returned to Carriage No. 1 to rest. She was utterly exhausted. Wenren Tu, that bum, had long since fallen asleep. Poking her wouldn’t even wake her up. Not a lick of help.

Now, Carriage No. 1 held seven participants. They checked each other’s invitation letters and ride permits. Everyone had enough food tickets. So during the day, they bought ample water and food, agreed not to touch the food tickets in Carriage No. 1, and then all fell asleep.

In reality, over a full day had passed. Everyone was dead tired. Since no ghosts would appear at night anyway, they might as well sleep to their hearts’ content.

Miss Legs, half-asleep when hungry, groggily ate a bit. When cold, she threw on a down jacket. She didn’t know how long she’d slept when she heard a heavy thud. Opening her eyes, she saw a figure sprawled on the floor before her.

The carriage had just exited a tunnel. In the blink of an eye, the scenery outside the window was radiant with spring.

The fifth cycle of spring had arrived.

Miss Legs stared at the fallen figure, unable to believe her eyes. Even though this person had arrived later and barely spoken, how could someone just die out of the blue?

She was certain—no ghosts had appeared last night.

One of the seven participants had died without anyone noticing, which was even more terrifying than a ghost killing someone in plain sight.

At least in the latter case, you knew why they died. But now, no one dared be certain how this person had died.

Sister Jia took out the deceased’s invitation letter and ride permit. The invitation letter clearly stated their mission had failed, while the ride permit crumbled to ashes and vanished right before everyone’s eyes.

Sister Jia shook her head. “A living person’s ride permit is green. I thought it might turn red upon death, but it just disappeared.”

This meant the red ride permit remained a mystery.

Sister Jia crouched before the deceased, chewing on her finger, staring at the body as if deep in thought. Suddenly, she reached out and began stripping off the dead person’s clothes.

Miss Legs looked toward Zhu Ming in bewilderment, only to find Zhu Ming had already climbed outside the window again. She instinctively felt something was wrong with this carriage.

But Zhu Ming waved her hand dismissively. “I’m going to ask the other carriages if anyone else has had a sudden death like this. You all carry on.”

A moment later, Zhu Ming returned.

Miss Legs hurriedly asked, “Did any other carriage have someone suddenly and inexplicably die like this?”

Zhu Ming shook her head. “Haven’t found any, but I can’t guarantee it didn’t happen. If it happened in a single-occupant carriage, the body could’ve already been refreshed and disappeared.”

Having said that, she looked toward Sister Jia.

Of everyone present, only Sister Jia was still crouched by the body. Moreover, while Zhu Ming was gone, she’d stripped the corpse’s upper body bare and had been thoroughly examining it. Everyone else was a bit unnerved.

One participant said, “If three cycles of four seasons equal one day, then it’s possible that after a day passes, the ghosts and monsters level up. We’re on the second day now, and he died exactly at the day-night transition. But if no other carriage experienced this, could it be that the strange events triggered differ per carriage?”

Zhu Ming felt intuitively that he was partly right, but not entirely. She reflexively countered, “Why would they differ? Aside from the carriage number, what else is different about each carriage?”

Zhu Ming had traversed several carriages. She was certain the rest were identical. If there was a difference… then it was Carriage No. 1 and Carriage No. 60.

Wenren Tu stood at the very front of the carriage, pointing at a tiny object pressed against the left-side window glass. “This thing isn’t in the other carriages. There’s one on the right side too. Looks like a camera.”

Zhu Ming said, “No, it looks more like a light. And the other carriages don’t have them, but Carriage No. 60 does—on the inner sides of the glass windows at the very end.”

She’d been to the train’s tail, hanging there for quite a while. She’d glimpsed these back then; they were very similar to the ones in Carriage No. 1.

The gadget had a switch, but flipping it did nothing. No idea what it was for.

Suddenly, Sister Jia reached out to Wenren Tu. “Lend me your knife.”

Wenren Tu passed it over. Sister Jia reached to take it, but her hand trembled, and the knife clattered to the floor with an ear-ringing clang. The invisible Conductor dutifully disciplined the unruly passenger.

Sister Jia rubbed her wrist. “No good, you do it. The knife’s too heavy; I can’t lift it properly.”

Judging by the way she was staring at the corpse while asking for the knife, it was clear nothing good was coming. Zhu Ming had just finished one task and had no desire to be diligent. She settled comfortably in the back to rest.

Wenren Tu had no choice but to resign herself to her fate. She stepped forward, gripped the knife, and asked, “Alright, where should I cut?”

Sister Jia directed her to slice open the corpse. Blood pooled across the floor. Next, she had her cut open the lungs, revealing their interior, which was visibly abnormal—blackened and withered. Sister Jia said, “He died of lung cancer. Notice the deceased’s fingers, fingernails, and teeth; you can tell he had a smoking habit. Smokers dying of lung cancer is quite common, and his lungs confirm it.”

Miss Legs said in astonishment, “But I remember when he first entered the carriage, he looked perfectly normal. He didn’t show the pallor and weakness of a cancer patient. Besides, lung cancer isn’t an instantly fatal disease, right? Doesn’t cancer usually require a process?”

Though now, looking at the corpse’s complexion, it did indeed carry a deathly, listless sense of decay.

After finding the cause of death, Sister Jia lost interest. She went to wash her hands, saying, “Correct, that’s precisely the problem. Even if he already had lung cancer when he entered Carriage No. 1, he shouldn’t have died this quickly.”

The corpse lay on the ground, its chest cavity sliced open. Miss Legs covered it back up with its clothes. There wasn’t much else she could do.

And the discovered cause of death remained shrouded in fog, as if the truth wasn’t simply this. No one was in the mood to mourn the dead; who knew if they’d be joining him shortly.

Zhu Ming, seated at the back, suddenly asked Sister Jia, “Sister Jia, how’s your health?”

Sister Jia looked somewhat puzzled. She pushed up her glasses and said, “My physical fitness is rather average. After all, I’m older, can’t compare to you youngsters.”

Zhu Ming asked again, “Is your daily routine stable?”

Sister Jia coughed dryly. “Usually quite busy, not very stable.”

Zhu Ming then asked, “After entering the carriage, have you felt your drowsiness increasing? Your digestion and physical condition worsening?”

Sister Jia looked at Zhu Ming. Following her words to their logical conclusion, her expression suddenly soured drastically. She was the oldest among them; if a certain change was occurring in everyone’s bodies, she would be the most sensitive to it.

Zhu Ming sneered, her gaze chilling. “I knew it. This train isn’t as simple as it appears on the surface.”

Sister Jia suddenly seemed to recall something. She pulled out her invitation letter and flipped it open. Seeing the two of them acting as if they’d figured something out, the others crowded around curiously to watch.

Sister Jia clawed at her hair in frustration. “I know what this pattern is now. I usually deal with a lot of paranormal events, so when I first entered, I couldn’t pinpoint what I’d touched to trigger this dungeon. But thinking back now, it’s perfectly obvious. This is a peach! A Longevity Peach!”

Miss Legs said in shock, “No wonder—I only celebrated my grandpa’s birthday, and two days later, I received the invitation letter. I was wondering if it was because I watched Journey to the West with my little nephew that day and triggered Sun Wukong’s Peaches of Immortality. But what does a Longevity Peach have to do with his death?”

“Of course it does. The true nature of this dungeon isn’t about begging for survival from ghosts and monsters.” Zhu Ming flicked the food ticket. “It’s about stealing our lifespan!”

Wenren Tu caught on too. “This person already had lung cancer cells when he entered the dungeon. Because it was very early-stage, he didn’t show the weakness of a cancer patient. But without any treatment, he would’ve normally died within a few years. Those few years of lifespan were compressed and stolen at high speed inside this train. That’s the real cause of his death!”

A chill spread through everyone’s hearts. Even if everyone else was healthier than the deceased, who wouldn’t be afraid knowing their own lifespan was being silently drained away?

And this train… it was still moving forward, without stopping.

Zhu Ming stared at the invitation letter, reading it word by word: “You are cordially invited to our world: The Four Seasons Train. Mission: Survive five full days. I thought this dungeon model was simple and safe, that once we found the window-moving trick, we could just lie flat until the mission was over. Turns out, it was all a smokescreen. Four Seasons Train, Four Seasons Train… The four seasons—it represents the passing of a year’s time.”

Four cycles of spring and autumn had already elapsed. That meant everyone on the train, even if still alive, had lost four years of their lifespan!

Zhu Ming clenched the invitation letter, wishing she could tear it to shreds. This was the first time she’d suffered a hidden loss like this.

Wenren Tu smoothed her ruffled feathers. “Don’t get mad, don’t get mad. Getting mad makes your lifespan drain faster.”

Zhu Ming: “…”