The situation at the subway station was almost exactly as Gu Jiu had predicted.
The route map at every station was deliberately scratched out and blurred, making it impossible to decipher. To distinguish between stations, players simply referred to them by numbers—from Station 1 to Station 25—plain and straightforward.
Every day, players had to board the trains and shuttle back and forth between stations.
Even if they were unwilling, some dangerous entities would attack and drive them away, preventing them from staying at a single station for more than a day.
There were two trains at the subway station: one was the Forward Train which ran from Station 25 to Station 1, and the other was the Return Train, which traveled from Station 1 to Station 25. The stations along the Return Train’s route posed less danger, offering players a chance to find temporary safe havens.
In contrast, every stop along the Forward Train’s route was fraught with peril, making it unsuitable for rest.
If players wished to board the Return Train, they had to reach Station 1, as at all other stations, the Return Train allowed passengers to disembark but not to board.
Gu Jiu quickly pieced together the information Old Hei and the others had shared and gained a general understanding of the game world’s dynamics.
As expected, it was a Death Train. No wonder it had managed to trap so many players.
Since they had arrived on the Forward Train, they were now at the final station. If they didn’t disembark, the train’s next stop would once again be Station 1.
Gu Jiu asked, “Does that mean as long as you don’t get off the train, the danger isn’t too great?”
She recalled how these people had rushed back into the train after spotting the Hunter. Once the doors closed, they were temporarily shielded from the Hunter’s pursuit.
“Not quite,” Old Hei replied, pulling out a large steel knife with several notches on its edge and wiping away the stains. “There’s danger inside the train too. Sometimes players are forced off the train. Sure, we can hide in the train once or twice, but after that, even the train isn’t safe anymore.”
Gu Jiu froze for a moment, remembering their earlier mention that the monsters at the stations rarely boarded the trains—not that they never did. While the train might offer relatively less danger than the subway stations, it was by no means completely safe.
In this place, players lived perpetually on the edge of a knife, teetering on the brink of danger. Nowhere was truly safe.
Old Hei finished wiping his knife, sheathed it at his waist, and glanced at the time. “Five minutes until the train arrives. Get ready, everyone.”
The train stopped at each station every fifteen minutes.
Gu Jiu did a quick calculation. With 25 stations in total, it took six hours and 25 minutes to complete one full trip. A round trip took twelve and a half hours—half a day spent entirely on the train.
As the train’s arrival drew closer, tension gripped the players. Their eyes grew sharp, like blades poised for battle.
They were bracing themselves for an encounter with the Hunter or the little girl Sasha. Either way, it would be a matter of life and death.
If it wasn’t their own death, it would be their companion’s—a thought that offered little solace.
Gu Jiu observed them calmly. She wasn’t sure whether it was because of Old Hei’s team’s competence or if this game world truly forged strong individuals, but those who had survived thus far were anything but ordinary.
Old Hei commented, “Most players die at Station One. The death rate here is the highest.”
“That’s true,” Gu Jiu agreed. “I noticed earlier—there were a lot of bloodstains at Station One. Quite a few people must have died there.”
The other players in the car shot her a look of reverence. After all, not every player started in this game world at Station One, much less survived long enough to board the train. Many likely entered the game, only to be killed outright by the Hunter or the little girl Sasha due to lack of preparation.
They didn’t think Gu Jiu had merely been lucky. Her earlier decisiveness in exposing herself and escaping into the train right under the Hunter’s nose demonstrated her strength and capability.
In the game world, players with real strength, regardless of gender, always commanded respect.
Here, factors like gender were diminished to near irrelevance. Players only valued one thing: power. Those with power earned respect and recognition.
As the last three minutes ticked away, Old Hei, seasoned as he was, instructed the players to spread out across the train cars. Once the train stopped, they were to disembark immediately and assess the situation in the subway station.
As the arrival time drew closer, the train’s once rapid speed began to slow.
A soft chime rang out. The train reached the station, and the doors slid open.
Old Hei was the first to step off, striding straight ahead to get a clear view of the subway station’s lower level. The others followed, cautiously scanning their surroundings.
The train would only remain at the station for 40 seconds, giving them a narrow window to determine whether the station was safe. If they failed to get back on the train in time, they would lose their only refuge.
Gu Jiu followed the others off the train.
She exited from the middle of the train, walking alongside Old Hei. His strides were fast and purposeful, his sharp gaze sweeping every corner, even checking the backs of support pillars. He left no blind spot unchecked, wary of a Hunter or the little girl, Sasha, lying in ambush.
Just moments earlier, Gu Jiu herself had hidden in a blind spot, managing to evade the Hunter.
Unlike Gu Jiu, who was new to this, the other players were seasoned and efficient. Within seconds, they had completed a full sweep of the lower level.
From a distance, they gestured an all-clear to Old Hei, their faces lighting up with relief.
This time, they were lucky. Neither the Hunter nor Sasha was present, meaning they didn’t need to retreat to the train for safety.
Old Hei motioned for them to gather.
Just then, the train began to chime again, signaling the doors were about to close. The players gave it a reluctant glance before grouping around Old Hei, watching the train’s doors slide shut and the train pulling out of the station.
Once everyone was gathered, they didn’t huddle too closely. Experienced as they were, they maintained a cautious distance—not too far apart to hinder rescue efforts in case of danger, but not so close that they couldn’t react individually if something happened.
This arrangement also allowed for better monitoring of the subway station. If the Hunter or Sasha appeared, they could warn each other immediately.
As the newest addition to the group, Gu Jiu wasn’t asked to do anything specific. She stuck close to Old Hei, scanning the surroundings as she whispered a question.
“When will the return train arrive?”
“Usually no more than ten minutes,” Old Hei replied in a hushed tone, careful not to make too much noise and risk drawing the Hunter’s attention.
Gu Jiu understood. If they could survive these ten minutes and board the return train, they would be safe—at least for now.
As she was thinking this, she suddenly heard faint footsteps.
The sound was familiar. She had heard it not long ago. It was the distinct tapping of little leather boots striking the ground.
It was the little girl, Sasha.
Sasha wore a red dress and a pair of shiny, adorable leather boots. Though her footsteps were light, the boots would sometimes click softly against the ground. The sound was faint, hard for most people to detect.
Gu Jiu glanced at Old Hei and the others. Their expressions showed no alarm; no one had noticed anything or raised a warning.
“Sasha’s here,” she whispered.
Old Hei froze for a split second. His expression sharpened like a steel blade, piercing her with his gaze. His entire body tensed, muscles reacting even faster than his mind.
“Are you sure?” he asked, voice low and strained, the words seeming to squeeze out between gritted teeth.
Gu Jiu nodded. “I heard her footsteps.”
Old Hei’s face twitched, as if he were suppressing an instinctive reaction, along with the deep fear Sasha inspired. He didn’t know how Gu Jiu could hear Sasha’s footsteps, but in this situation, it was better to believe than doubt.
Quickly, he gestured to the others, warning them that Sasha was about to appear.
The players’ faces turned ashen. They hurriedly moved closer to Old Hei, abandoning whatever they were doing.
Old Hei whispered to Gu Jiu, “Where’s the sound coming from?”
Gu Jiu pointed to the right and motioned for Old Hei and the others to hide near the escalators. It wasn’t the safest spot, but if Sasha decided to attack, they would at least have the option of escaping to the upper level.
Old Hei agreed with her reasoning and followed her to the left side of the escalator, crouching on the steps.
The sound of Sasha’s footsteps grew louder and closer. Finally, the little girl in the red dress appeared in their line of sight.
She was still clutching her doll. The doll’s grotesque face tilted up to stare at them, its mouth stretched unnaturally wide, nearly to its ears. Its dark, soulless eyes locked onto them, exuding an unsettling aura.
All the players knew that Sasha herself wasn’t the real danger. The terrifying threat lay in the doll she carried. That thing could devour people, chewing and swallowing them whole.
Gu Jiu’s gaze fell on the doll, but Sasha held it so tightly that she couldn’t confirm whether it was missing an arm as suspected.
Sasha tilted her adorable face upward, looking at them, her crisp voice ringing out:
“Did you come to play with Sasha? Lisa is missing one of her hands. Can you help her find it?”
Her words were exactly the same as before, yet they sent chills down everyone’s spine.
Anyone who had been to Station One knew the truth: playing with Sasha meant sacrificing your life. Every player who agreed to her request ended up as a soul trapped inside the doll, Lisa.
What now? Should they escape to the upper level?
But if they went to the upper level, what if they encountered the Hunter?
Sasha only operated on the second basement level. If the players managed to escape to a different floor, she wouldn’t pursue them. However, the Hunter roamed the entire subway station freely, appearing anywhere, whether on the first or second basement levels.
The players huddled on the escalator, cold sweat dripping down their faces. Not one dared to make a sound.
The little girl continued to stare at them. Seeing that they remained silent, her expression began to droop.
The players’ hearts nearly stopped. Sasha’s drooping face was always a sign of her displeasure—a prelude to Lisa unleashing her devastating attacks.
At that moment, the sound of the incoming return train echoed through the station, the rumbling vibrations serving as an urgent reminder.
Sasha was blocking the escalator entrance, and the return train was about to arrive. If they didn’t seize this opportunity to board, they would have to wait another thirty minutes for the next train.
Thirty minutes at Station One could be a death sentence.
A few players exchanged glances, their gazes subtly drifting toward Gu Jiu.
Before anyone could act on their thoughts, the woman standing there suddenly turned her head sharply, her gray-clouded eyes radiating a cold, oppressive intensity. Her gaze was heavy, like an overcast sky before a storm, suffocating and impossible to meet directly.
Old Hei noticed the shift but had no time to address it.
Every second was critical now. Someone needed to draw Sasha’s attention away so the others could escape.
But who would willingly sacrifice themselves if survival was still possible?
Old Hei closed his eyes briefly, torn with indecision. Just as the oppressive silence was about to break him, a soft yet steady voice spoke, shattering the tension in the air.
“Take a look, is this Lisa’s hand?”
Everyone turned to Gu Jiu, only to see her casually holding a bloodied, severed arm. It was clearly a child’s arm—a human arm.
Lisa, however, was a doll. Shouldn’t its arm be made of cloth?
Yet, to their surprise, the little girl Sasha broke into a delighted smile when she saw it. “This is Lisa’s hand! Thank you, big sister.”
Gu Jiu smiled faintly and descended two steps, stopping in front of the little girl. She held out the arm.
Sasha happily took it and, under the gaze of the players, stuffed the arm into the doll’s clothes. The arm disappeared into Lisa’s body.
Then, to everyone’s shock, the doll, which had always been cradled in Sasha’s arms, suddenly crawled out of her embrace.
The players: “…” What was it doing? Was it going to attack them?
The train chime rang out. The return train had arrived, and the doors slid open.
Anxiety tightened in the players’ chests. The train wouldn’t stay long. If they missed it, they would have to wait another thirty minutes. Yet, with the little girl still standing at the escalator, no one dared to make a move.
Fortunately, the doll merely climbed onto Sasha’s shoulder without doing anything else. The little girl finally turned and, with her stiff, jerky steps, walked away.