Seventeenth Station.
As soon as the train pulled into the station, everyone saw a figure standing on the opposite platform.
The person was tall and thin, with only one arm. Their back was to the group, and their clothes were stained with filthy blood, making it seem like they had just survived a life-and-death battle.
Judging from the chaos at the Seventeenth Station, it was evident that many battles had taken place here. A significant number of people had recently died. The ground was littered with remnants of players’ corpses, suggesting another fight had occurred before they arrived, claiming even more lives.
As they looked at the figure, pity began to well up—they were missing an arm.
Players losing limbs wasn’t uncommon. However, in the game world, losing an arm or leg significantly reduced combat effectiveness. Such players often became a burden and were far more likely to die in the game.
It was unfortunate.
Just as everyone was feeling sorry for the one-armed person, the figure finally turned around.
Everyone: “!!!!!”
Sympathy? For what? This was clearly no ordinary person. It was likely another murderous monster lurking in the subway stations. Even if they were blind, they wouldn’t waste their pity on a monster.
At this moment, Lu Ji stepped off the train.
The players shouted, “Get back on the train! That could be a Hunter!”
Hunters weren’t exclusive to the First Station. Other stations also had Hunters, though unlike the dedicated, tireless black-caped Hunter at the First Station, the appearance of Hunters at other stations was random. Sometimes they showed up; sometimes they didn’t. It all depended on the players’ luck.
Clearly, their luck had run out this time—a Hunter was guarding this station.
What made them even more anxious was that Lu Ji was resolutely stepping off the train.
Seeing Lu Ji’s determination, Chai Yingying had no choice but to follow her, muttering under her breath, “Fine, worst case scenario, we’ll just burn through all our items…”
Using items to stay alive was definitely a last resort.
More importantly, Chai Yingying trusted Lu Ji’s strength. If she dared to get off the train, it meant she had the ability to handle the situation. They’d stick to her and ride on her coattails to survive.
Sure enough, when the Hunter charged at them, Lu Ji didn’t retreat but advanced instead. Sword held horizontally at her side, she gripped the black blade with both hands and swung it toward the Hunter.
The Hunter’s tall, thin body bent unnaturally to dodge the blade, countering with a swipe toward Lu Ji.
The black sword traced a circle in mid-air, intercepting the Hunter’s hand mid-swing.
A metallic clang echoed as Lu Ji and the Hunter both retreated several steps.
The players behind them were stunned. Was the Hunter’s body as tough as metal? When its hand clashed with the black sword, it sounded like two pieces of metal colliding.
The group tightened their grip on their weapons, spreading out nervously, ready to assist at any moment.
Lu Ji, however, looked completely composed. No matter where the Hunter attacked from, she blocked every move effortlessly. Her actions were smooth and efficient. Her cold, detached demeanor remained unchanged, showing no signs of strain or struggle.
This created the illusion that the Hunter wasn’t very strong.
Of course, it was just an illusion!
Realizing it couldn’t gain the upper hand against Lu Ji, the Hunter turned its attention to the other players. But they were on high alert, raising their weapons in defense. Even so, the Hunter’s strike sent both the players and their weapons flying.
With a loud thud, the player slammed into the wall, nearly spitting blood.
“Xiao Yu, are you that weak?” Chai Yingying shouted.
The male player called Xiao Yu swallowed the metallic taste in his mouth and jumped to his feet, defending himself. “Sister Chai, it’s not that I’m weak! It’s that the enemy is too strong! This Hunter is ridiculously powerful—there’s no way to block it. If you don’t believe me, you try!”
Chai Yingying, bold as ever, led a group to confront the Hunter.
Half of their weapons were promptly sent flying, and the rest barely managed to stay in their hands. Even those who held on struggled to resist the overwhelming force. They were utterly defenseless and would have been smashed to pieces like melons if Lu Ji hadn’t intervened in time.
Someone murmured, “No wonder they call it a Hunter. Even with only one arm, it’s still this strong.”
That comment seemed to enrage the Hunter.
In a halting, raspy voice, it growled, “Give… me… my hand… back!”
What? What did it just say?
The group thought they’d misheard. But then they noticed the Hunter seemed to be targeting the players’ arms specifically. A bizarre thought crossed their minds: was this thing trying to tear off their arms to replace its missing one?
It wasn’t entirely impossible. Hunters were not human or ghost—they were a unique kind of monstrous entity tied to the subway stations. Seemingly unkillable, they possessed incredible combat power and endlessly hunted players. Whatever they did was never outside the realm of possibility.
But where was the Hunter’s missing hand?
It couldn’t be that a player had chopped it off and taken it, right?
“Wait, could a player really have cut off its hand and taken it?” someone asked incredulously.
Chai Yingying replied, “Why not? It’s entirely possible. Otherwise, why would it specifically wait here and demand its hand from us?”
Unlike the First Station Hunter, which was a fixed presence, Hunters at other stations appeared randomly. But this one seemed to have deliberately stationed itself here, as if lying in wait for them.
As they were speculating, Lu Ji suddenly charged at the Hunter again, her sword sweeping in an unbelievably precise arc. The black blade sliced cleanly through the Hunter’s remaining arm, severing it completely.
When the arm hit the ground, the group stood stunned.
The Hunter lunged toward its severed arm, but Lu Ji kicked it away, sending it skidding toward the players. Without both arms, the Hunter turned and rushed at them, its distorted face a mask of fury. Finally, the group snapped out of their daze.
Chai Yingying quickly used her whip to grab the severed arm and tossed it into her personal inventory. She then spun and kicked the approaching Hunter, sending it flying.
Although the Hunter was still incredibly strong, being armless made it far less intimidating—like a tiger without fangs.
The rest of the group noticed the Hunter’s reduced power and swarmed it. Someone threw a lasso, catching the Hunter around the neck, while others tied its legs. In the end, they had it completely bound.
The Hunter roared furiously, its murky eyes glaring in rage. Its emaciated body suddenly began to swell, snapping the ropes binding it one by one with resounding pops.
Everyone: “…”
“These ropes are useless! Use something stronger!” someone yelled.
“I’ve got a Fish-Dragon Rope! Got it from another game world!”
“Nylon, Fish-Dragon, whatever! Just bring it now!”
The players sprang into action again, using the Fish-Dragon Rope—a rope several times thicker and sturdier than ordinary nylon—to restrain the Hunter.
This time, the Hunter was finally unable to break free. The group erupted in cheers, some crying tears of relief and joy as they wiped their faces.
“Look at you all, acting so proud!” Chai Yingying laughed and scolded.
One of the players wiped their tears and said, “Sister Chai, we’re just happy. Think about it—since we entered the Death Train world, we’ve been hunted by the Hunters nonstop. So many of our companions died. This is the first time we’ve ever turned the tables on a Hunter. It’s not easy!”
The others nodded in agreement, sharing the sentiment. It truly hadn’t been easy.
Amid their heartfelt emotions, a glimmer of hope emerged. Even though the Death Train was dangerous, they realized they had the strength to fight back. Someday, they would beat this cursed game and escape this terrifying world.
Lu Ji paid no attention to the others. He crouched down and let two small paper figures climb into his palm.
On the backs of the paper figures was a timestamp: 8:15-8:30.
He smiled faintly, feeling as though he was one step closer to Gu Jiu.
“Let’s move,” he said, placing the paper figures back at the station and addressing the players.
The group, still marveling over their bound Hunter, hesitated for a moment. “Big Sis, aren’t we going to check out the basement level?”
“No need,” Lu Ji replied, glancing at the train tracks. There were only three minutes until the next train arrived. “Ah Jiu and the others left recently. There’s probably nothing worthwhile down there.”
The players nodded, no one daring to object. Lu Ji was the strongest among them, and her words carried weight. Even Chai Yingying, once the de facto leader, had quietly ceded authority to her.
When the train pulled into the station, the group looked toward the bound Hunter.
“Are we just leaving it here?” Chai Yingying asked uncertainly.
Lu Ji’s tone was cold. “Or do you want to take it with you?”
“Forget it!” Chai Yingying quickly shook her head. Hunters weren’t easily controllable, and a Hunter without arms was just dead weight. Bringing it along would be useless.
So, they secured the Hunter to a support column, ensuring the ropes were tight, before boarding the train.
—
Fifth Station.
The train doors opened, and Gu Jiu’s group immediately heard screams coming from the basement level of the subway station.
The thick, metallic stench of blood filled the air. While they had grown accustomed to this smell, it still made them instinctively wrinkle their noses.
“Let’s check it out,” Old Hei said, his expression tense as he strode off the train.
Gu Jiu had no objections. In truth, she made it a point to explore each station as much as possible whenever they stopped. It wasn’t just curiosity—she wanted to delay their progress and give Lu Ji time to catch up with her.
The group ran toward the escalators, their eyes scanning the Fifth Station for any signs of danger.
Like the Seventeenth Station, the Fifth Station was covered in fresh blood and corpses. The bodies were still warm, and it was clear they were players.
Their hearts raced at the realization that there might also be a Hunter here. But despite the fear, they had no choice but to press forward.
The train had already departed, and the next one wouldn’t arrive for another fifteen minutes. Doing nothing wasn’t an option. They had to investigate the station’s layout and potential dangers. If there was a Hunter, at least they could gather intel about its appearance. That information could help future players navigate the Death Train more effectively.
Running away wouldn’t solve their problems, and it wouldn’t help them clear the game.
To survive and escape this horrific world, they had to face the dangers head-on—even if it meant risking their lives.
The players moved with incredible speed, reaching the basement level in just over ten seconds.
There weren’t piles of corpses in the basement, but the situation was far from good.
From the left-hand passage leading to the outside, desperate screams echoed. The corridor was pitch black, making it impossible to see what was happening. Only the faint glimmers of light from players’ tools hinted at the danger lurking within.
Old Hei and Gu Jiu rushed toward the passage.
Both leaned forward as they ran, weapons in hand, moving in perfect sync. Their matched pace and precision left the trailing players once again impressed by Gu Jiu’s strength. She was proving to be just as capable as Old Hei and was steadily gaining influence within the group.
When they reached the passage, they finally saw what was happening.
From the depths of the dark corridor, countless ghostly hands were reaching up from the ground, grabbing onto the players’ legs and bodies, trying to drag them into an even darker abyss.
The trapped players were struggling frantically, attacking the ghostly hands with whatever weapons they had.
One unfortunate player was already halfway submerged in the ground, with only their head remaining above the surface. They let out a desperate scream, wildly swinging their weapon to fend off the ghostly hands clawing at their face.
Pang Hou threw out a rope, looping it around the player’s head. With the help of others, he began pulling the trapped player out of the darkness.
Gu Jiu glanced deeper into the corridor, tilting her head as if listening for something. Suddenly, she spoke, “Wan Xingzhou, is that you?”
A shrill yet delighted voice responded from the darkness, “Miss! It’s me! Please save us!”
Upon confirming the voice, Gu Jiu didn’t hesitate to step into the shadowy passage.
The corridor felt like a descent into hell. Ghostly hands reached out from the infernal depths, clawing at the players and dragging them down. The floor, which should have been solid, felt like an illusion underfoot, offering no stability. Ironically, the ghostly hands became the only solid points to step on.
Gu Jiu leaped forward, her feet landing on the ghostly hands that jutted from the ground.
Suddenly, several hands shot out, unnaturally long and extending far beyond the length of normal human arms. They lashed out toward Gu Jiu, wrapping around her waist in an attempt to yank her from midair.
Gu Jiu swung her Lingyuan Blade, severing the ghostly hands with precision.
“Gu Jiu, be careful!” Old Hei called out from behind her, his voice trembling with worry. The sight of her navigating the treacherous darkness made his heart race with fear—he was afraid she would be dragged down at any moment.
The overwhelming darkness made it impossible to see the surroundings clearly. Gu Jiu had to rely on her hearing to pinpoint Wan Xingzhou’s location. Fortunately, Wan Xingzhou seemed aware enough to keep making noises to guide her.
Suddenly, Gu Jiu let out a muffled grunt of pain.
A ghostly hand had snuck up on her, clawing into her side. The sharp, piercing pain jolted through her body, causing her to falter mid-step.