Inside the train compartment, Chen Mang stood before the control console, lifting a telescope to peer into the distance. Not a single movement could be seen—just an eerie silence. Over the past few days in the wasteland, he had grown accustomed to this.
Yet, something felt slightly off.
After all, back in Master Kun's slave carriage, he had witnessed the enforcers remaining vigilant at all times. Even during the train's temporary stops, though there were no massive hordes of monsters like the Corpse Tide, scattered creatures were still a common sight.
But these past four days, he hadn't encountered a single monster.
It was unnervingly quiet.
The train's front observation window offered a 180-degree view, allowing him to monitor the front and sides. Chen Mang climbed onto the control console and opened the skylight to glance toward the rear of the train. Still, there was nothing—no movement, no sound.
After completing his survey, he finally let out a long sigh of relief, hoping today would pass uneventfully. Then, he turned his attention to the resource count on the Train Panel.
4,819 units of Iron Ore.
This was his total accumulation over the past four days. By tomorrow, he would be able to upgrade the train to Level 2. Everything was proceeding smoothly.
Noise began to filter in from outside the train. The slaves had woken up and were taking pickaxes from the enforcers one by one, heading toward the mine. Over the past few days, Lao Zhu had streamlined the process, and such tasks no longer required his direct involvement.
All the slaves had descended into the mine.
Chen Mang began his breakfast as Lao Zhu brought over steaming buns and pickled vegetables—the best food available on the train.
He looked down at the pickled vegetables in his hand and sighed softly. Though buns with pickles weren't bad, eating them every day was becoming tiresome. He longed for a change of flavor. But then again, he wasn't even sure how the pickled vegetables were obtained.
Were they produced on a Level 2 train's production line, or scavenged from the city ruins?
When they had seized Master Kun's train, they had acquired a decent stash of pickled vegetables. There were still over 80 packs left, but once those were gone, even this meager accompaniment would vanish.
If only he could have some Lao Gan Ma chili sauce or meat paste. And a cigarette would be perfect—he hadn't smoked in days, and the itch was starting to get to him.
Chen Mang chewed on his bun, lost in his thoughts as time slowly ticked by.
"Train Conductor Zhu."
Outside the train, Biao Zi approached Lao Zhu, licking his lips as he tentatively asked, "I heard you used to be a Deputy Train Conductor?"
Lao Zhu glanced up at Biao Zi before returning to jotting something down in his notebook.
Biao Zi scratched his head. He had specifically instructed Hei Wa not to mention his own past as a Train Conductor to anyone. While Lao Zhu's history as a Deputy Train Conductor was a plus, his own former position as a Train Conductor was a liability.
Though he had resigned himself to it—being a Train Conductor wasn't something one could achieve just by luckily obtaining a Train Token—Lord Mang might not see it that way.
It was like in peacetime: someone who had once been a boss would struggle to adjust to being an employee, inevitably fostering discontent and inappropriate thoughts.
If Lord Mang suspected he still harbored ambitions to become a Train Conductor again, life aboard the Stellar would become uncomfortable—perhaps even involving his head and stomach sleeping in separate beds.
"There's something I wanted to report to you, Train Conductor Zhu."
Biao Zi lowered his voice with a sheepish smile. "That nearby city ruin, Taiping City—though it's been thoroughly searched by many these past few days—I know there's a liquor and tobacco shop in the suburbs."
"That shop used to deal in smuggled cigarettes. There's a hidden compartment inside, filled with cartons of cigarettes. It's definitely untouched."
"I've noticed Lord Mang seems to be craving cigarettes these past few days. Should we make a trip to Taiping City?"
Lao Zhu hesitated. Biao Zi was clearly trying to curry favor by sharing this information. If he reported it to Lord Mang and successfully retrieved dozens of cartons of cigarettes, he would undoubtedly earn some credit.
"The train is still at Level 1. Let's focus on upgrading it to Level 2 first. That's our top priority for now."
"But I'll keep this in mind."
"When the time comes, if we find the cigarettes, I'll let Lord Mang know it was your lead."
Biao Zi grinned and scratched the back of his head. "Alright, Train Conductor Zhu, I won't disturb you further. I'll go continue my patrol."
Though inwardly, he couldn't help but grumble. Despite Train Conductor Zhu's harmless, obedient demeanor around Lord Mang, anyone who had survived this long in the apocalypse—and even served as a Deputy Train Conductor—was no simpleton.
If he didn't butter him up, he might find himself on the receiving end of some underhanded treatment.
While becoming a Train Conductor might require just a stroke of luck, being a Deputy Train Conductor truly demanded skill and cunning. Of course, becoming a Train Conductor might need a bit of luck, but being a competent one? That was a whole different level of difficulty.
Take himself, for example.
He had survived this long in the apocalypse, and he wasn't naive enough to think he was any kind of saint.
A year ago, when the apocalypse struck, order collapsed almost instantly, and people gradually split into two groups.
One group was the Train Conductors roaming the wasteland. The other was the survivors holed up in the cities.
These survivors, whether lone wolves or part of gangs, banded together in relatively safe locations within the cities—places like air-raid shelters or other large infrastructure. They scavenged for supplies like packrats, barely managing to eke out an existence.
Of course, when these people were captured and brought onto the trains, their status changed—from survivors to slaves.
After the apocalypse, all firearms ceased to function. Against the monsters, these people had little means of resistance, so they mostly resorted to hiding.
Level 1 monsters were the most basic, like Level 1 Zombies.
Only Level 1 monsters could be killed with ordinary means, such as fire axes. But when it came to Level 2 or Level 3 monsters, only weapons crafted from train components or production lines could deal effective damage.
This world had only two types of people.
Train Conductors or slaves.
In the blink of an eye, darkness fell, and the slaves began trickling back from the mine, like diligent worker ants returning to their nest.
Inside the train compartment, Chen Mang sat at the control console, his eyes fixed on the resource count displayed on the Train Panel. A satisfied smile spread across his face.
After this batch of Iron Ore was stored in the No. 2 cargo warehouse, the total count had finally reached 6,012 units.
Chen Mang clasped his hands together, tilting his head slightly upward as he took a deep breath to suppress his excitement. "You truly listen to prayers. Today passed without incident once again."
"So, if it's not too much to ask..."
"Could you also bless me with seven more days of peaceful mining here?"
"I'll offer you some incense tomorrow."