On the return train, the red high heels appeared again.
Hearing the familiar sound of high heels clicking, the players in the carriage were not scared—instead, they were excited.
They craned their necks, looking toward the direction of the clicking sound of high heels hitting the floor, and even had the leisure to count the number of steps the heels took across the carriage.
The red high heels materialized from the ceiling, with blood dripping down.
The blood coalesced into a woman in a red dress. When she saw Gu Jiu standing at the front with the mermaid doll perched on her shoulder, her face changed drastically, and she turned to flee.
If she couldn’t win, could she at least not escape? When faced with a human more terrifying than malevolent spirits, running wasn’t shameful—it was survival.
“Run? Where are you going? Come back!” Gu Jiu shouted.
The woman bolted at lightning speed.
Gu Jiu was not pleased. She called out, “Ah Ji!” In response, Lu Ji’s blood-soaked whip coiled around the woman’s neck. Gu Jiu leaped forward, kicking the woman to the ground and pinning her underfoot.
The scene was oddly familiar.
The players who had witnessed how Gu Jiu and Lu Ji subdued the red high-heeled woman the previous day clenched their fists in excitement. If they weren’t afraid of distracting them, they might have cheered loudly.
Gu Jiu grabbed the woman’s hair and dragged her forward.
Clever as ever, Chai Yingying followed closely. After walking a short distance, she realized the surroundings had changed.
They were still on the train, but the atmosphere was different—it was crowded with people and immaculately clean. The bloodstains, fear, and darkness had all receded, leaving only a clean, tidy subway train moving through what seemed to be a real-world space.
Chai Yingying’s first instinct was to check the subway map inside the carriage, but she was disappointed to find she still couldn’t make it out.
Sure enough, she wasn’t some chosen one; even though she had entered the real-world space alongside them, she couldn’t glean any useful clues.
Despite her disappointment, Chai Yingying stayed vigilant. Her sharp eyes caught sight of a woman blending into the crowd, flashing her a sinister grin.
Chai Yingying wasn’t intimidated. She casually touched her own hair and mouthed silently, “Your hair’s gotten shorter again.”
If this kept up, wouldn’t the woman turn bald?
The expression on the red high-heeled woman’s face shifted to one of anger and panic. If it weren’t for that blasted mermaid doll that drank so much of her blood, would her hair have shortened like this?
A woman who loved her beauty could never accept baldness!
This was also why every time she saw Gu Jiu, her first instinct was to run—she simply couldn’t bear any more damage.
The red high-heeled woman, enraged to the point of almost exploding on the spot, lunged at Chai Yingying, her long nails aiming a fierce swipe. Chai Yingying blocked her attack but was almost sent flying. In a desperate move, she hooked her long leg around a metal pole to steady herself.
The sight of two women fighting on the train didn’t draw any attention from the other passengers.
Even as Chai Yingying fought the woman, she observed her surroundings and realized something odd. In the eyes of the passengers, she and the red high-heeled woman appeared intangible. No matter how intense their battle became, the passengers remained oblivious.
They were like ghosts existing within the real world, shielded by some kind of field that prevented human eyes from perceiving them.
The fight between Chai Yingying and the red high-heeled woman was intense and evenly matched. Thankfully, the woman was missing an arm; otherwise, Chai Yingying felt she would’ve lost miserably.
Finally, Gu Jiu and Lu Ji arrived.
When Chai Yingying saw them, she was delighted. The red high-heeled woman, however, was terrified. Without another word, she tossed all three of them back onto the Death Train.
Suddenly appearing in the carriage, the three startled the players who had been running around searching for them. But the initial shock quickly turned to joy.
Wan Xingzhou rushed over, panting. “You guys disappeared so fast just now, I couldn’t keep up at all.”
Chai Yingying patted him on the shoulder. “Wan, little brother, even if you had caught up, it wouldn’t have made a difference. The subway route map on the train is blurry—you probably wouldn’t have been able to read it either.”
She thought for a moment, considering the possibility that the players hadn’t yet uncovered all the clues, which was why the subway route map remained unclear. Alternatively, their method of boarding the train might have been incorrect. Following the red high-heeled woman into the real-world subway likely wasn’t going to yield any clues.
They still needed to explore the subway stations further.
Chai Yingying shared her guesses with the group, and they agreed that both theories were plausible.
The train arrived at Station 25 again.
As soon as they reached Station 25, they encountered a chainsaw-wielding murderer. The players worked together to subdue the killer, chopping off both his hands and tying him up tightly like a dumpling.
The murderer’s chainsaw was smashed into a pile of scrap metal by the players.
Wan Xingzhou stared intently at the damaged subway route map behind the murderer, his eyes gradually tinged with a brilliant red.
“Wan Xingzhou, what do you see?” Li Jing asked excitedly.
Wan Xingzhou covered his eyes for a moment before replying, “I can see the name of Station 25… It’s Taochang.”
The group looked at him in surprise, unable to suppress their excitement. Cheers erupted among them.
They hadn’t expected this approach to actually work. By defeating the boss at the subway station, Wan Xingzhou’s innate talent allowed him to pierce through the illusory space and see into the real one.
The real-world name for Station 25 was Taochang.
If they could figure out the names of all 25 stations, they would be able to enter the real world, clear the game, and escape.
Overcome with excitement, Li Jing and the others lifted Wan Xingzhou and tossed him into the air repeatedly.
“Wan Xingzhou, you’re amazing!”
Caught off guard by their sudden action, Wan Xingzhou yelled in surprise, but his shouts soon turned into hearty laughter.
As someone often ridiculed by his teammates and partners for being unlucky, he had never realized how it felt to be truly needed by his team instead of being a burden.
Gu Jiu, meanwhile, held a bucket of paint and a brush, carefully writing the characters “Taochang” in the space on the subway station wall where the name had been maliciously scratched out.
Every subway station’s name plaque had been deliberately vandalized, leaving only numbers to represent the stations. But now, they could finally restore the names.
The others followed behind Gu Jiu, admiring the young lady’s calligraphy with looks of surprise and satisfaction.
Chai Yingying commented, “Miss Gu, your handwriting is pretty good. Have you practiced?”
“I haven’t practiced. It’s natural talent,” Gu Jiu replied.
Chai Yingying: “…Do you even blush when you say stuff like that?”
Gu Jiu raised her elegant face. Her classically gentle and refined appearance carried a bold, commanding charisma that made her look strikingly beautiful.
Chai Yingying glanced over to find Lu Ji, who was clearly smitten with Miss Gu, staring at her in a daze. She couldn’t help but shake her head.
Leaning against the dirty, cracked wall, she suddenly said, “I think I finally understand why the game system sent so many players here this time. It’s not just because a lot of players are trapped—it’s also because quantity is a winning strategy.”
Any player who has communicated with the system steward understands that while the Multiverse Game forces players into its worlds to complete tasks, it also tries to protect them and doesn’t aim to recklessly expend their lives.
This time, however, with the sheer number of players sent in—hundreds, if not thousands—it was unprecedented. No low-level game world had ever supported this kind of scale before. It was a record-breaking event.
“The truth behind the Death Train isn’t actually hard to uncover. As long as players can safeguard their lives and muster the courage to fight the ghosts, they’ll find the truth eventually. The real challenge is that there are simply too many ghosts here. Players can’t handle them alone; they have to unite…”
The hunters in this world are indeed formidable, but what if dozens—or even hundreds—of players worked together? The players sent in were elite among C-rankers, each with their own abilities and methods. If they united, they would eventually uncover the truth.
As casualties increased, even the most independent players would realize they couldn’t succeed alone. Reluctantly or not, they would unite.
Thus, clearing the game was only a matter of time.
Chai Yingying wasn’t the only one to figure this out. Others had come to the same realization.
The game world wouldn’t push players into an inescapable dead end. There was always a way out—it just depended on the players’ luck and strength.
After resting for a few hours at Station 25 and regaining their energy, they continued their journey.
The train arrived at Station 24.
Station 24 was relatively safe. There weren’t any formidable ghosts, just a few small fry that looked like the boss’s minions—not worth mentioning.
To ensure the boss appeared, they purposely stayed at Station 24 and waited.
Half an hour later, boundless shadows emerged.
The players, filled with regret, fled back onto the train. If it had been any physical ghost, they might’ve stood a chance in a fight. But these bizarre, amorphous shadows left them clueless about how to engage.
“Miss Gu, what do you think these shadows are?” Wan Xingzhou asked, perplexed.
Whenever the shadows appeared, they devoured the entire subway station, leaving nothing behind. No matter how hard Wan Xingzhou tried to see through it, there was only pitch blackness—nothing resembling reality, much less a restoration of the station’s name.
These shadows were his least favorite.
“Perhaps it’s some kind of external invasive force,” Gu Jiu mused, propping her chin on her hand as she gazed into the dark tunnel outside. “When they engulf a station, it’s as if the station is returned to void and darkness…”
Hearing her explanation, both Wan Xingzhou and Wu Yang felt it was a plausible theory.
The shadows were untouchable entities, far harder to deal with than the hunter at the first station. Despite the hunter’s strength, he had a tangible form that players could at least attempt to fight.
“Let’s hope we don’t run into these shadows again,” Wan Xingzhou grumbled. “When they show up, we can’t see anything. How long will it take us to figure out all the station names at this rate?”
The others nodded silently.
All their hopes were pinned on Wan Xingzhou. Among the current players, he was the only one capable of seeing restored reality. Even the powerful and fearless Gu Jiu, no matter how many times she entered the real world with the ghosts, seemed unable to achieve the same.
The train arrived at Station 8.
This was Gu Jiu’s fourth time at Station 8.
As soon as they arrived, they were met with a violent onslaught. A horde of wretched-looking ghosts surged down from the first basement level, using illusionary spaces to split the players apart for individual attacks.
“Ah Jiu!”
Watching Gu Jiu disappear in front of him, Lu Ji’s eyes darkened with hostility.
Even though he knew she hadn’t truly vanished—she was just ahead—being unable to see her or sense her presence still left him feeling stifled. The urge to drag out the lurking ghosts trying to ambush him nearly overwhelmed him.
Meanwhile, Gu Jiu stood calmly in the now-empty subway station.
The place was devoid not only of people but also of ghosts.
Walking alone through the decrepit station, she realized she was still within the Death Train’s subway system but had been separated from the others by Xiao Hui’s illusionary space.
What surprised her was the lack of ghostly attacks.
She walked forward for a while before speaking. “Xiao Hui, come out.”
There was no response.
She smiled slightly, no longer bothering to speak. Making her way from the second basement level to the first, she headed toward the subway’s operations room.
The door to the room hung crookedly on its hinges. Gu Jiu pushed it open and walked straight to a collapsed desk in the corner. Lifting the desk, she wasn’t surprised to find a little ghost curled up beneath it.
Human and ghost stared silently at each other.
Gu Jiu extended a hand toward him. “Xiao Hui, come on out.”
Xiao Hui stared at the hand before suddenly lunging forward, jaws wide open.
His ghostly teeth were as sharp as fangs, capable of easily biting through a human hand.
But the moment his teeth clamped down, they almost cracked. With a hiss, he spat out whatever had caused the pain, only to see the human’s hand sporting crimson nails that gleamed like polished pearls, radiating a demonic aura.
It was this aura that rendered the ghost unable to sink his teeth in—and nearly cost him his fangs.
Gu Jiu watched him clutch his mouth, smiling sweetly. Her voice was soft. “Has no one ever told you? Don’t go biting random things. Hygiene aside, what if you break your teeth? It’s not easy for a ghost to grow two sharp fangs, you know.”
Xiao Hui said nothing, glaring at her.
Gu Jiu continued, “Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat? I have a lunchbox.”
If Chai Yingying had been present, she would’ve scolded Gu Jiu for her cunning ways. Manipulating even a small ghost by giving a stick first and then offering a sweet carrot—all while wearing a saintly, gentle smile. How could an innocent little ghost possibly withstand that?
Hello everyone 💕 How are you all? I’ve just added 12 chapters for this book. Hope you enjoy the new updates~ 🥰