Camped in place for the night.
At dawn the next day, the Constant Star Train was already roaring across the wasteland, racing towards the coordinates "239, 1923".
This wasteland’s original name before Doomsday was "Tieling Wasteland", but perhaps because it was somewhat difficult to pronounce, many people preferred to call it the "Desolate Wilderness" after Doomsday.
The speed of the Constant Star Train gradually slowed down. From seeing no trains at the beginning, to spotting a few here and there later in the journey, until now where trains were frequently visible, the destination was just a step away.
When the train came to a stop, Chen Mang, sitting at the control panel, glanced at the clusters of people not far away on the wasteland with a hint of curiosity in his eyes.
The congregation had begun.
It was just surprising how rudimentary it was, without even tents. The Train Captain, accompanied by a group of thugs, walked to the gathering for trading. For safety, all trains had to park a kilometer away from the congregation.
This gathering had no organizer; it was spontaneously formed by consensus. He also followed local customs, parking his train a kilometer from the congregation. Accompanied by Biaozi, Old Pig, and three other thugs, he exited the carriage, while the remaining thugs stayed aboard to maintain order and guard against unexpected situations.
Standing on the wasteland, Chen Mang leaned on a cane and glanced back at his train. With this cane, he could completely control his train remotely.
He had conducted experiments; the controllable distance was about a kilometer.
If anything unexpected occurred, with just a thought, his Constant Star Train could speed towards him, carrying him away from the area.
He had never seen so many trains; there were forty to fifty trains parked here. Previously, he had no concept of his train’s strength, but seeing so many trains now, he realized his Constant Star Train was not bad after all?
At least over twenty trains hadn’t achieved armor covering the entire carriage.
Is that so difficult...?
With a hundred slaves and a level 1 iron mine, after half a month of stable development, anyone could achieve what he had. Yet, why did so many trains look even shabbier than his?
His main trading targets today were two people.
One was from the "Bloodthirsty Bull Train".
The other from the "King of Electronic Music Train".
Both had quite a bit of Spider Silk in their hands. He had arranged to meet them at the end of the congregation, but for now, he intended to wander around with Old Pig and the others.
Chen Mang squinted slightly, examining the noisy crowd in the distance: "You used to be a Deputy Train Captain; how much do you know about congregations?"
Old Pig firmly shook his head: "To participate in congregations, usually, you need a level 2 train, unless you have other means to acquire the congregation coordinates. My former train never attended, and I’ve never been to one."
Chen Mang didn’t ask further, only leaning on his cane and softly saying, "Let’s take a look."
Biaozi and the remaining three thugs followed behind, holding their Soaring Dragon Assault Rifles with cold expressions.
Every Train Captain had some thugs following behind—some with two or three, others with a dozen or so. The main combat capability of a train wasn’t thugs, but the train itself.
The primary duties of thugs included exploring ruins, searching for resources, patrolling for security, maintaining order, executing small-scale battles, and ensuring the Train Captain’s safety during trips.
It sounded much more complex than being a slave.
Slaves simply needed to know how to swing a pickaxe.
Train Captains generally maintained a certain distance from each other, avoiding excessive eye contact to prevent misunderstandings. Everyone tacitly walked into the congregation, either browsing or sitting down in an empty spot, writing the items available for trade on a sideboard.
Only forty to fifty Train Captains in total.
Just a small congregation, without many choices.
The flow of the congregation was simple, with only one line running from north to south.
Many Train Captains sat on either side of this line, waiting for others to come trade.
Chen Mang, Old Pig, and the others briskly walked into the congregation. The first stall they saw had a board with two sentences written on it.
"Seeking to purchase Vehicle Accessories Blueprints of various green grades and above, high prices offered."
"What’s the price for slaves?"
Chen Mang looked at the white-haired elder sitting behind the stall, squatting to inquire. It was the first time he’d seen such an old Train Captain, appearing over seventy.
The elder, who seemed to be dozing off, sized up Chen Mang.
"500 units of iron ore for a young, strong one, 300 units for the elderly or disabled."
"Women’s prices vary, from 300 units of iron ore to 1000 units."
Chen Mang squinted slightly, calculating; the currency system collapsed after Doomsday. Currently, it seemed iron ore, as a mainstream resource, became the new trading currency. Everyone needed iron ore, and nobody had enough.
A normal strong young man could dig about 10 units of ore a day, which meant the payback period was around 50 days.
That’s assuming one could continuously find ore during those 50 days.
He felt the price was somewhat inflated.
The logic was different from before Doomsday. Before Doomsday, businesses with a payback period of 50 days would generally fall under criminal law; those outside were lucrative enterprises.
But in the post-apocalyptic era, the uncertainties within 50 days were overwhelming. Investing so much iron ore instead of enhancing train strength seemed a bit imprudent.
Thus, he was genuinely curious if anyone truly used iron ore to buy slaves?
"If interested, I can take you to my train for a look; the quality is quite good."
The elderly man, his gaze lingering on the Soaring Dragon Assault Rifles held by Biaozi and the others, cleared his throat with a soft cough and began his sales pitch seriously.
"Little brother’s train must be quite powerful."
"If buying in bulk, we can negotiate the price further."
"Last time, someone bought quite a few slaves from me, and now has probably left the Desolate Wilderness for areas richer in resources. With so many slaves in hand, finding a good mining site can yield profits in just a few dozen days; every subsequent day would be pure profit."
"That guy was quite ambitious, buying 100 slaves from me in one go, all top-class young men."
Chen Mang remained silent, only pulling out a cigarette, lighting it, and sighing lightly.
He was genuinely curious what kind of person would use 50,000 units of iron ore to buy 100 slaves?
With that many units of iron ore, couldn’t something better be achieved? That’s nearly enough for half-equipped level 2 trains, right? What’s the point of buying so many slaves?
From a long-term perspective, it was surely a steady profit with no losses.
If a level 2 iron mine was found, the payback period would greatly shorten.
In the post-apocalyptic world, prolonged strategies were scarce; nobody knew what would happen tomorrow. Considering long-term strategies required first stabilizing short-term situations. If this person wasn’t just foolish, then he must truly be capable.