In the darkness of the night.
The train continued to speed into the distance.
Chen Mang sat in the constantly undulating carriage, his expression sowhat dazed. That clanging sound was not the sound of the train’s wheels hitting the tracks, but the ground.
In recent days, he had noticed.
This train was not running on tracks but directly on the ground, which was quite unique.
Just then—
"Hmm?"
Chen Mang was slightly stunned. He suddenly felt the birthmark on the back of his hand, which had always accompanied him, heating up. Instinctively looking there, he saw a translucent panel suddenly floating in front of him.
-
"Survived 3 days, unlocking the Train Captain Panel."
"And receiving a starter reward: gls handgun*1, with 18 rounds of 9mm bullets."
"Triggering the starter Train Captain tasks."
"1: Acquire a train of your own within three months. Rewards unknown."
"2: Have three thugs and ten slaves within three months. Rewards unknown."
"3: Kill 10 zombies within three months. Rewards unknown."
"The shorter the ti taken, the greater the rewards."
"Complete the three starter Train Captain tasks to formally unlock the ’Train Captain Panel’."
-
The sowhat sci-fi scene before him made Chen Mang pause slightly, especially the pale white glow of the panel, which appeared extrely glaring in the entirely dark carriage. He instinctively glanced around.
But found no one had a special reaction.
It was as if...
Only he could see this panel.
"..."
After staying silent for a long ti, Chen Mang finally lowered his head to look at the birthmark on the back of his hand that had stopped heating. He gently stroked it, sowhat dazed.
His na was Chen Mang.
He nad himself this way; growing up in an orphanage without parents, he had an extrely special birthmark on the back of his hand, which seed like the Chinese character "Mang."
Many tis.
He thought perhaps this was sothing his unseen parents left for him, so he nad himself Chen Mang.
Unexpectedly, this birthmark that had accompanied him his entire life only showed its purpose in this world. Perhaps... his parents had crossed over long ago, leaving this behind for him before they were forced to depart?
He couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head to dismiss these absurd thoughts.
Through exploration, he had roughly understood how to use this panel; it could automatically appear in front of him or retract according to his thoughts. When he placed his hand in his pocket, he felt a heavy handgun with a cool brass texture and a heap of bullets.
The reward had indeed arrived.
But the problem is...
He tucked the handgun into his back waistband and covered it with his clothes, stuffing all the bullets into his clothing pockets. Only after doing all this did he breathe a sigh of relief; this thing wasn’t entirely good news.
If the thugs in the front carriages found out that a slave like him had sothing like this, it probably wouldn’t end well.
Even if he had perfect aim, he couldn’t withstand so many thugs head-on. What’s more, the heavy weaponry loaded on the train was the main focus; a handgun couldn’t contend with that.
Once they reached the mine.
He needed to find a place with no one around to take it out for further study.
Just like that...
Amidst a dazed state, feeling like it had been traveling for four to five hours, when the sky began to lighten, the train’s speed finally slowed down, eventually halting with a clang sowhere on the wasteland.
The next mont—
"Bang!"
The carriage door was suddenly flung open, and a group of thugs in steel boots, with guns at their waists and batons in hand, stood at the doorway shouting angrily, driving each slave out of the carriage. There were dedicated individuals at the door distributing picks.
Each slave received one.
Except for three people.
Chen Mang and two other slaves who looked particularly fierce and brawny. Clearly, their main task was to oversee the work.
...
"Stand properly, all of you!"
A roar echoed.
All the slaves, sowhat weak, crowded on the wasteland, while Chen Mang and the other two overseer slaves stood at the forefront of their respective carriages’ slaves. The man standing on the carriage was the sa middle-aged man who had co to teach him a lesson not long ago, now assigning tasks from the carriage.
"..."
Chen Mang casually glanced around, feeling the fresh, cool air that made his body feel much more comfortable.
Having been stuck in the carriage for three days, the pungent sll was enough to conquer everyone.
He was wearing a thin jacket, with a short sleeve inside, and trousers on his lower half.
The morning chill of the wasteland seeped through him.
All that t his eyes was wasteland.
An endless wasteland, with no trees or ruins, only parched land appearing quite barren. Beside him was a small mound several ters high, with a clearly visible mine opening at its sloped section.
This must be the mine.
It seed non-compliant, with almost no safety asures, entirely relying on fate.
And at this mont—
The middle-aged man in steel boots standing on top of the carriage had finished assigning tasks. Three slave teams entered the three areas of the mine to begin mining. Before that, each slave needed a full al.
Many thugs began pulling out several boxes of moldy bread slices and slightly sandy water from the carriage for distribution.
All the slaves strained to catch sight, tiptoeing to queue for their share, fearful that supplies would run out before reaching them.
On this day.
Every slave was able to receive ten slices of bread and three cups of water, far exceeding their usual food supply. Before doing hard work, naturally, they should eat their fill.
As for the three overseer slaves.
Each received six hot moldy buns, two bags of pickles, two bottles of mineral water, and a walkie-talkie.
When they were digging in the mines, the train and thugs would station outside. In the event of an ergency, they would contact them through the walkie-talkie, and they must bring all the slaves out as quickly as possible and escape back to the train.
When the announcent of dismissal, free movent, and post-al descent into the mines was made.
All the slaves dispersed, finding spots to sit on the ground and begin eating voraciously.
...
"Have a taste."
Chen Mang tilted his head to look at the middle-aged man who had been following him closely, and tossed him a bun and half a bag of pickles before finding a quiet corner to sit down.
Slowly chewing the bun in his hand.
He wasn’t particularly hungry because it hadn’t been long since his last midnight snack.
But on the wasteland, having food was always good; keeping full strength was never a bad thing.
While observing the other two overseer slaves, he casually asked quietly.
"Do you have a na?"
"Thank you, big brother, thank you!"
This sowhat slick-looking middle-aged man, after carefully accepting the warm bun, repeatedly expressed his gratitude, and after hearing this newly acknowledged big brother asking his na, he was montarily stunned. Soon after, unable to hide his excitent, he whispered.
"Big brother, my na is Old Pig."
"Surna Lao?"
"Yes, yes, it’s an uncommon surna."
Chen Mang shook his head and couldn’t help laughing: "Who nas their child Pig."
"When I was young, life was hard. My parents hoped I could live happily like a pig, with no worries about food and drink, waking up naturally each day."
"My mother had a ntal disability, having lost all her limbs in a car accident as a child, marrying my father after they t. My father was deaf and mute, doing physical labor on a construction site."
"We lived in an abandoned shipping container."
"Soon after I was born, my mother was alone at ho and died in a fire. My father died when I was nine, falling from a scaffold."
"But thinking about it, it’s good that they died."
"If they had lived to see doomsday, it would have been more painful."
"..."
The smile on Chen Mang’s face gradually stiffened, and he didn’t speak, rely taking another bite of the bun expressionlessly, chewing.
As for Old Pig, he didn’t mind and still wore an excited smile.
In doomsday.
A na is an important thing; asking soone’s na, in so sense, is a preliminary acceptance of that person. For instance... the thug leader of this train didn’t bother asking big brother’s na.
After all, for soone who could be replaced at any ti, knowing their na didn’t matter.
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