Only he was still awake.
He hadn’t finished his twenty-thousand-word task today, which was assigned by Pig Train Captain. His job was to write novels to enrich the entertainnt activities of train residents. He didn’t need to mine every day; writing twenty thousand words was all he had to do.
It sounded simple.
But...
"Still not asleep?"
Just then, Old Pig approached with a cheerful grin, sitting under the pavilion and enjoying the surrounding corridors.
The Constant Star Train had a total of 8 residential areas, each designed and built by Master Mang himself. Perhaps because the first residential area was the very first one designed, Master Mang put extra care into it.
There was grassland, artificial hills, and small rivers.
There was even a corridor for rainy days.
It’s unclear what Master Mang was thinking; could it rain inside the Gate of Space?
With the effect of holographic imagery within the Gate of Space, one could see the moon and the white clouds stained dark by the night sky, as well as the treetops swaying gently in the night breeze.
Even the most upscale properties before the doomsday didn’t have this level of greenery and environnt.
He really liked this residential area.
Every now and then, he enjoyed strolling around this area, feeling his mood improve.
Then he turned his head to look at the young man beside him, smiling as he said, "Life on the train is quite good, isn’t it? You only need to write twenty thousand words each day and don’t have to do anything else. It’s much easier than before, right?"
"..."
The young man turned his bloodshot eyes towards Old Pig, his voice trembling and slightly hoarse as he spoke, "Pig Train Captain, does our train still need slaves? I want to apply to beco one."
Old Pig’s expression imdiately turned grim as he frowned.
"What kind of talk is this, do you think being a slave is easier?"
The young man said nothing, his eyes filled with despair, his voice tinged with sobs.
"Pig Train Captain, the slaves rest when they’re not mining. My resident number is 1999, considered an old resident. Ever since joining the train for these two months, I haven’t stopped to rest. I feel like I’m starting to... get addicted to writing."
"Hmm..."
Old Pig touched his nose, thought for a while, and although it seed there might be so exhaustion, he quickly stood up to pat the young man’s shoulder, speaking earnestly.
"This is the doomsday."
"If you encounter difficulties, overco them. A vacation is impossible, continue writing."
"Everyone else can do it, why can’t you?"
"Everyone else? Who?"
"Soone in a corner of the world."
Old Pig didn’t linger but turned to leave. He was actually on his way to the Red House to relax and had just co in montarily.
One was the Deputy Train Captain, and the other a resident.
Neither had Train Captain privileges.
If Chen Mang were standing here, he would clearly see that every word the young man typed would stir a faint ripple in the air, and those ripples ford a line, passing through the Gate of Space.
Leading all the way through the carriages to the train chamber and into the Civilization Order in the drawer.
...
"Looks like it’s almost successful..."
Mr. Li, his eyes red and bloodshot, surrounded by piles of cola cans at his feet, looked at the zombie with a bulging belly before him, his whole body trembling with near madness.
Finally, it was about to succeed!
His first zombie offspring was finally about to be born. Although the production efficiency was slow, it was a good start, at least it proved the theory was entirely feasible. The next step was rely amplification!
And this zombie with the swollen belly was one of the few hundred captured from that laboratory.
Those hundreds of zombies had devoured large amounts of iron ore, their core energy extrely abundant, perhaps this was why the belly could swell better.
As for the young man, he was already leaning against the wall, having fallen asleep in a daze.
In the whole carriage, only Mr. Li was alive.
And the half-dead Master Shen.
Bound to a copper pillar, Master Shen’s face was filled with despair, his eyes vacant as he stared forward. He had been tortured for more than a month, and at this mont, he was pondering only one thing, why hadn’t he died straightforwardly at the beginning, then he wouldn’t be enduring such tornt now.
He desperately wanted to die...
...
It was dawn.
Yesterday was uneventful—it was Christmas Eve.
"Whew..."
Chen Mang stretched lazily, comfortably sprung out of bed, washed up a bit, lit a cigarette, and sat in a chair to check the Train Log. This had beco his daily morning routine.
Every ti he finished reading the Train Log, just as he finished a cigarette, his mind was more or less fully awake.
Not much happened, just so scattered monsters approached and were easily dealt with by Biaozi and others patrolling outside.
After reading the Train Log.
He then extinguished the cigarette butt in a cola can, and leisurely drank the millet porridge Fang placed on the table, beside it lay a plate of red-oil pig ear, not knowing where the red oil ca from, he didn’t rember such supplies on the train.
First, he glanced at the resource balance on the Train Panel.
-
"26.38 million units of iron ore, 2.57 million units of timber, 17.64 million units of copper ore, 2.32 million units of Red Heart Rock, 10.29 million units of titanium crystal ore."
-
The resources were sufficient.
The next two days were for resting, allowing the residents to rest for two days as well as himself, and to sort out the gains from these recent days.
Sorting out what needed to be sorted, stowing what needed to be stowed.
He looked at the progress of the "Dream Stone," 80%, had increased by 2% overnight.
And...
Chen Mang glanced at the calendar reminder on the train control panel screen, falling into contemplation, "Goblin Tomb" had refreshed, through the Civilization Order he could continue to enter this area to mine iron ore.
But should he go?
This area primarily consisted of Level 2 mines, very few Level 3 mines.
hours wouldn’t yield much ore.
First, see if any other mines can be found, if not, then go to the Goblin Tomb. It’s noteworthy that he could see the refresh ti of all mined areas through the "Resource Detection Radar."
But—
He alone couldn’t see the refresh ti of the mine at the end of the train tunnel, or rather, there was no refresh ti.
aning.
That mine wasn’t naturally ford, and if it were naturally ford, it wouldn’t be so densely packed, he sowhat suspected, that mine might have been excreted by that several-ter tall monster boss.
After all, no traces of excretion were visible.
Regarding food sources, it’s likely this.
Eating and excreting simultaneously, allowing itself to be trapped underground for an unknown duration, yet still survive successfully.
Of course, these are rely so of his unreasonable speculations, true or false, he cannot verify.
But that doesn’t matter.
Instead, he took out the Civilization Order from the drawer, preparing to venture to the Goblin Tomb in a few days, however...
Just then—
He noticed the Civilization Order in his hand had undergone changes unbeknownst to him, with specks of lingering light swirling around its surface.
"This is...?"
Chen Mang’s eyebrows furrowed slightly as he looked at the information panel of the Civilization Order in his hand.
-
"Special Tool": Civilization Order.
"Special Effect": This order helps you rebuild a civilization, suggested to use cautiously, or at least when the train reaches Level 20. Whether rebuilding your civilization or soone else’s, will bring you back into the spotlight, thus attracting countless enemies’ coveting.
In the universe, there are only two existences, hunters and prey.
Activating this order allows entry into ’Goblin Tomb,’ a space of extre darkness filled with abundant mineral resources. Each entry permits 48 hours, accessible once a month.
-
No difference from before.
But on the back of the Civilization Order, a pentagram composed of luminous white lines was added.
Each point of the pentagram bore different words.
They were—
"Humanities", "Culture", "Military", "Agriculture", "System".
The Civilization Order never had any changes before.
And if one concentrates their mind on a certain "word," corresponding branches appear.
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