Uncle Li sat weakly on the chair, trembling slightly as he lit a cigarette and brought it to his lips. After a pause, he turned with a complicated expression to the young man beside him: "Do you know why I succeeded before the apocalypse?"
"Because you worked hard."
"No, because the times were improving."
Uncle Li shook his head: "When times are improving, your hard work is like running inside a speeding train. You think you're running hard, but what's really propelling you forward is the speeding train itself. Many people mistake the dividends of the era for their own efforts."
"Hard work is just a small factor in success. The bigger factor depends on whether the train beneath you is speeding forward or moving backward."
"It was like that before the apocalypse, and it's still like that after."
"The reason I can try to stand out now through these unorthodox means is because I'm on the Stellar Train. If I were on any other train, where would I find the space to research something like a 'Zombie Spawning Cage'? I'd still be mining."
"So I understand better than you."
"If you don't seize the opportunity early on when a train is just starting to speed up, you'll never get another chance later."
"At times like these, you have to take drastic measures—think what others dare not think, do what others dare not do."
"The early stages are often the best time for chaotic growth."
The young man nodded earnestly: "Understood, Uncle Li. You're the train beneath me."
Uncle Li fell silent for a moment before replying weakly: "Well... if you say so."
"Bring me paper and pen. I'll dictate, you write—record the data."
All residents of the Stellar Train were too excited to sleep. The train's explosive growth came with a rapid rise in the residents' happiness index—so fast it was hard to adjust.
Meanwhile, in the Zombie Basin.
An 8-level Mechanical Train slowly came to a stop. The train door opened, and a middle-aged man stepped out, looking puzzled at the three cigars sticking out of the ground.
They were nearly intact.
Only the tips showed signs of having been lit.
Unlike cigarettes, cigars will extinguish themselves if lit but not smoked.
The middle-aged man pulled the three cigars from the ground, his expression odd: "Using cigars as incense? What a waste. Who's this extravagant..."
He then placed one cigar in his mouth, lit it with a lighter, and exhaled contentedly.
"Whoever this offering was meant for..."
"I'll accept the sentiment on their behalf."
Dawn gradually broke.
Chen Mang groggily opened his eyes on the chair. After washing up, he took the millet porridge and pickles handed to him by Xiao Fang, sipped lightly, and sat down to review the Train Log while speaking.
"Where did this millet porridge come from?"
"From the last trip to the city for supplies—we found some millet. Lao Zhu had the cooks simmer it overnight. Should be fragrant."
"The pickles were leftovers from before the apocalypse."
Chen Mang nodded, sipping millet porridge along the rim of the bowl before picking up a piece of pickled vegetable and popping it into his mouth. "I don't like hot food. Next time, let the millet porridge cool down to half its temperature before serving. You can take the remaining half pot for yourself."
"Understood, Lord Mang."
Inside the train carriage.
Chen Mang sat in his chair, comfortably full after the meal. He lit a cigarette and gazed out the window at the wasteland, casually resting his feet on the windowsill. The number of monsters in Crisis Valley was much fewer—perhaps because he was at the edge of the area. So far, he hadn't encountered any high-level monsters, just small fry around levels six or seven.
Not even a single level 10 monster had crossed his path.
Dawn had just broken.
In the dead of winter, a biting cold wind swept over the train roof, seeping in through the open window. Wrapped in a woolen blanket, he found the sensation quite pleasant. He loved this interplay of warmth and cold—like burrowing under the covers with the window open in winter or covering himself with a thick blanket while the air conditioner blasted in summer.
After zoning out for a while,
he turned his attention back to the Train Panel.
Yesterday, he had recklessly spent millions of units of Iron Ore to maximize the train's overall capabilities—whether in offense, defense, or daily life. There were now two Resident carriages.
And that would be the limit—no more additions for the foreseeable future. Two would suffice for now.
Even if more Survivors joined, it wouldn't be an issue.
the Mine was only so big. No matter how many Survivors there were, production efficiency couldn't be increased further.
When he had only 100 Survivors, adding another 100 would double the output. But with 5,000 Survivors, adding another 5,000 wouldn't make much difference—at best, they could work in shifts.
But the mine couldn't withstand such relentless digging either.
the Train Radio inside the carriage suddenly flashed red.
Chen Mang, who had been about to upgrade other components, paused mid-motion, a glimmer of anticipation in his eyes. He wondered what good news his Traveling Frog had brought back this time. It suddenly struck him that the Traveling Frog's value wasn't just in the resources it fetched—it also provided emotional satisfaction.
At the very least, he now looked forward to seeing what his two Traveling Frogs would bring back each day.
Traveling Frog: "Lord Mang, I've discovered an untouched level 4 Iron Ore deposit!"
Stellar: "Hmm, send me the coordinates. Anything else?"
Traveling Frog: "Nope."
Stellar: "If there's an untouched level 4 Iron Ore deposit in that area, it must be extremely well-hidden. There should be other mines nearby."
Traveling Frog: "Not that hidden, really. There's another train mining a level 3 Iron Ore deposit right next to it."
Stellar: "...So you're saying they're ignoring the level 4 deposit to mine level 3 instead?"
Traveling Frog: "Yep. Oh, and that train is now privately messaging me, warning me to leave immediately."
Stellar: "Got it. Go about your business for now."
Chen Mang narrowed his eyes slightly and withdrew his gaze from the Train Radio. A thought suddenly occurred to him—back in Zombie Basin, he had stumbled upon an opportunity: a buried safe.
Inside it was a level 4 Crimson Heartstone Mine Refresh Coupon and a blue-tier Mecha Blueprint—Thunder.
These two opportunities ensured the train had no shortage of Crimson Heartstone for mechs for a long time—so much that it still hasn't run out even now.
Back then, he hadn't given it much thought.
He simply assumed they were meant to go together.
This ensured the train never lacked materials for crafting mechs.
But now, it suddenly dawned on him—the "Pickaxe Production Line" was a green-tier accessory, meaning it could only be upgraded to level 3 at most. Level 3 pickaxes could only mine level 3 ores, not level 4.
Whether it was that level 4 Crimson Heart Rock Mine or the level 4 Iron Ore deposit Er Dan had discovered, normal trains couldn't extract them.
You'd need Murphy Stones to upgrade the "Pickaxe Production Line" to level 4, and only then could the pickaxes mine level 4 Iron Ore.
The train near that level 4 Iron Ore deposit must have run out of spare Murphy Stones. They were probably desperate, constantly shooing away other trains trying to approach the deposit—unable to consume what they guarded, driven mad with frustration.
Chen Mang's expression turned slightly odd. Yeah, that was frustrating. If he were in their shoes, he'd be just as desperate. But luck was on their side—they'd run into him, and he was always kind-hearted.
Without delay, he pinned a message in the "Train Radio" chatbox.
「Stellar」: "Selling Murphy Stone. Limit one per customer. 2 million units of Iron Ore, fixed price. Remote transactions available."
Multiple replies popped up in the Train Radio.
"Are you insane? Trying to sell a single Murphy Stone like it's some family heirloom?"
"No one's gonna buy at that price. Impossible."
"Is that the point? The real question is why his message is pinned—and with a colored border too. Did he buy VIP or something?"
"Hey, didn't you guys grab the first-purchase bundle before the apocalypse hit? The 9.9 one gave a blue-tier accessory and a Train Token. The 648 noble bundle came with a Rare Train Token and 100 Murphy Stones. There was also a separate 648 resource bundle with 10 million units each of Iron Ore, Copper Ore, and lumber."
"Huh? Bro, are you joking or serious? I thought we all started on equal footing. How do you have first-purchase bundles?"
"The guy talking about first-purchase bundles is piloting a level 11 train. Doesn't seem like he's lying."
"I kinda believe it, honestly. I've come across plenty of opportunities myself, but my train's only level 10. There are so many higher-level trains out there—they must've had some kind of cheat."
Chen Mang glanced at the Train Radio, slightly surprised. Maybe it was a regional thing, but the people here seemed much friendlier.
Could it be that with lower regional threat levels, the reduced competition made everyone more amicable?
No one was going to buy a Murphy Stone for 2 million units. Sure, it was rare, but not that valuable.
There wasn't exactly a fixed market price for it. The supply was so limited that most people who had any would use it themselves rather than sell. For ultra-rare items , pricing often depended on how desperate the buyer was. The source of this content ɪs N0velFire.ɴet
2 million was a lot, though.
But for a train eager to mine a level 4 iron ore deposit, that amount wasn't much. A level 4 deposit could easily yield at least 8 to 9 million units of iron ore without any issue.
The train was still in a state of repair, and the coordinates were quite far from him, so he wasn't planning to go there for now. But that guy would definitely need this Murphy Stone.
9 million versus 2 million.
It was easy to tell which was more important.
Soon, a Train Conductor came knocking to inquire about the price.
"1 million, confirmed for remote trade. Deal now."
"Not in a hurry to sell. 2 million, selling at fate's will."
"170, brother. You know the market rate for Murphy Stones. To be honest, even 1 million units of iron ore is already overpriced. I once bought one for 600,000."
"I know. I'm selling at fate's will, no rush. Only waiting for the right buyer. 2 million, final offer."
"188, for good luck."
As The Balance manifested on the control panel, the remote trade concluded. The train now had one less Murphy Stone—only 17 remained.
"Advanced regions are really the best..."
Chen Mang sat back in his chair with a satisfied smile and sent a message to Er Dan, asking him to check if the level 4 iron ore deposit was being mined. If this were a low-level region, a Murphy Stone would never sell for 1.88 million units of iron ore. Buyers simply didn't have that kind of capital—even if they wanted to, they couldn't afford it.
He had originally planned to hold firm at 2 million.
Because he knew that even if he insisted on 2 million, that guy would still have to buy it—there weren't many alternatives. Trying to procure one at a gathering, begging for one over the Train Radio, or waiting for a Fortuitous Encounter on the Serendipity Map would take too long. By the time he got one, the opportunity would be long gone.
The reason he relented at 188 was that he genuinely felt it was a lucky number.
there was an unspoken rule, especially prevalent:
"All mines operate on a first-come, first-served basis."
This wasn't etiquette or a formal rule.
It was a law of survival.
After all, nearly all trains were high-offense, low-defense entities. If you attacked another train, that train would often retaliate immediately. Neither could withstand the other's assault, leading to mutual destruction or both being wiped out.
In such an environment, this unspoken rule was observed by the vast majority.
Because any train that made it to this region understood one thing:
In this world, no opportunity, no matter how great, was more important than survival. Everyone became more cautious, and some basic survival principles helped maintain a semblance of order in this lawless, chaotic environment.
Flesh Trains were extremely rare in this region, making up only one-twentieth of the Mechanical Trains.
"Can't keep using Murphy Stones to upgrade the Pickaxe Production Line forever, right?"
Chen Mang quickly scrolled through the Train Radio, reviewing the recent conversations among Conductors. Not every train had the chance to obtain Murphy Stones, meaning that after a few more upgrades—say, to level 11, 12, or 13—new mining components should appear.
Ensuring that even trains without Murphy Stones could mine advanced ores.
We can't just let this batch of Trains get stuck here.
Although the chances of obtaining Murphy Stones from Trains in this area are much higher than those in lower-level regions.
No useful information was found.
Mostly just idle chatter.
He withdrew his gaze from the Train Radio and looked back at the Train Panel. Currently, the Train still had—
16.54 million units of Iron Ore.
Modifying the Resident car, Space Gate, those plants and flowers, plus the additional 100 level-10 Refrigerators built here and there—all together cost 1 million units. Adding the extra income just earned, the Train's Iron Ore reserves had returned to 16.54 million units.
Suddenly, he understood why the rich never seem to run out of money—because they have enough of it.