This task had proven utterly exhausting. Eric rested amidst the stone forest, secretly nibbling on biscuits and sipping milk to replenish her energy. Afterwards, she commenced a regimen of stretching exercises before returning to the quest hall to observe other players and gather intelligence.
Settling into a quiet corner of the hall, Eric encountered Natalie. Natalie's face bore the deep shadows of sleepless nights, her eyes ringed with dark circles. Enviously she remarked, "You look so well-rested—unlike me, my entire face has collapsed. The torment of insufficient sleep is unbearable."
Having glimpsed her own reflection, Eric knew she appeared weary and drained after each mission. Yet, compared to Natalie's fatigued countenance, she seemed almost rejuvenated.
Curious, Eric inquired whether Natalie had recently undertaken any dungeon missions or if her points were still insufficient for lodging in the inn overnight.
"I do them," Natalie replied, "but I can't bear to spend points on the inn. Our fellowship sisters enter the ordinary dungeon together before nightfall and rest in the quest hall afterward. Many do the same; having company is safer, though the sleep is still poor." She yawned mid-sentence. "Last night, we tried to sleep among the stone pillars within the dungeon. A newbie emerged in the midst of the night, shouting and causing a ruckus that woke me."
Eric frowned at Natalie's sunken eyes but withheld comment, recognizing this was her choice.
Growing animated, Natalie whispered excitedly, "Guess how many points I have now after saving the overnight fees?" She divulged a number quickly, then added, "Nicole begged us not to share our point balances—for fear others might grow envious. But since we came together and you're a good person, I trust you!"
"…Don't tell me in the future," Eric warned solemnly. "Keep it to yourself. Don't let a second person know your balance."
Seeing Eric's serious expression, Natalie blushed awkwardly. "Oh, what about you?"
Eric's points were comparable to Natalie's, which was unsurprising: she conserved points by skimping on food, while Natalie saved on accommodation.
She disclosed a figure close to Natalie's savings. Natalie then invited her to join the fellowship. "Strength lies in numbers. This place is quite chaotic. Nicole says some people have lost hope of revival and just drift aimlessly here, their character rotten. They often rob and bully newcomers, but united, we're untouchable."
Without the supermarket's advantages, Eric might have joined the fellowship. Yet, now she preferred solitary action. Everyone here was a stranger; she would not share her supermarket secret with a second person.
She politely declined Natalie's offer, which displeased her. Eric watched as Natalie rejoined her comrades. Among them, a poised and dignified woman turned to Eric and offered a gentle smile.
That afternoon, Eric reentered the dungeon.
The moment she crossed the portal, a clatter of metallic sounds filled her ears. Opening her eyes, she found herself seated inside a train carriage, surrounded by a scene of astonishing realism. Passengers chatted and snacked, and the mingled aromas of food and smoke hung in the air—identical to reality.
Suppressing a sudden pang of unease, Eric reminded herself this was but an illusion; all characters were NPCs.
She assessed her condition—her clothing was her own, but a train ticket now rested in her pocket, nothing more.
"Want to play a game together?" A gentle tap on her shoulder drew her attention.
Turning, Eric saw a youth of seventeen or eighteen grinning broadly. "Hello," he greeted.
Austin had warned that NPCs were remarkably lifelike and that none should overhear dungeon content, lest unpredictable complications arise. The youth's mention of 'game' was likely a discreet method to identify fellow players.
Understanding this, Eric smiled faintly but did not respond, instead turning away. Uncertain of the dungeon's evolving circumstances, she resolved to observe quietly.
The youth pouted, muttering "Quite haughty," before darting his eyes toward another passenger who might be a player. He was about to approach when a piercing scream echoed from the front car: "Ah!"
Eric's heart clenched—this was the beginning.
The passengers were frightened, and the passenger at the back of the carriage went to the next carriage to inquire. When he returned, he looked shocked and said, "He's dead! He's in the toilet! Blood is flowing all over the ground, and it's all dripping out!
Oh my god! How could this happen? Call the police quickly
There's a murderer on the train, it's so scary
Don't panic, don't panic, it could be suicide, don't scare yourself.
Eric rose and cautiously ventured into the adjacent carriage to gather information. The passengers there were visibly terrified, nearly all crowding into the neighboring compartment, for the restroom lay at the far end of that car, just a stone's throw from Eric's own. This carriage had become thronged with uneasy and panicked travelers.
Observing their expressions and mannerisms, Eric marveled at the astonishing lifelikeness of these NPCs. A growing sense of apprehension gripped her as she suppressed her rising unease and squeezed through the throng toward the neighboring compartment. She noticed the same youth from before trailing behind her.
Before her stretched a chaotic trail of bloodied footprints, the most copious stains lying just outside the restroom's entrance. Eric dared not enter; instead, she cautiously peered inside.
The instant her gaze fell upon the scene, a sharp breath escaped her lips—a pair of terrified eyes were fixed upon her from the floor.
Withdrawing her gaze abruptly, her heart thundered fiercely within her chest. It was a severed head.
Inside the restroom, a decapitated corpse lay sprawled, its crimson blood pooling across the floor. The gruesome sight struck with such visceral intensity that Eric felt bile rise in her throat.
She pressed a hand to her mouth, turning away and doubling over as she fought to suppress the wave of nausea.
"Tsk, if you're scared, why bother looking? How timid," came the boy's crisp, mocking voice.
Ignoring him, Eric quickly steeled herself, then cautiously peered inside once more to scrutinize the scene. Finding nothing unusual beyond the body, she focused her attention on the deceased.
"Step aside, please! Everyone return to your seats!"
The conductor arrived with an officer in tow, prompting Eric to hastily retreat to her own carriage.
The metallic tang of blood lingered in her nostrils. Discreetly, she slipped a preserved plumb candy into her mouth, its tart sweetness soothing her senses. As she savored the treat, her mind replayed the grim details: the clean, precise severance of the head and body, undoubtedly the work of a sharp blade wielded with immense strength, steadiness, and chilling composure.
A ruthless murderer was aboard the train.
This revelation sent a chill of dread coursing through Eric's veins. She harbored no illusion that this murder was an isolated incident. In this survival quest, the cold-blooded assassin wielding that blade represented a dire menace to all players aboard.
Eric found herself at a loss—should she seek out the murderer to strike preemptively? But the thought of taking a life paralyzed her; such an act was beyond her courage.
With so many carriages and passengers, alongside crew and security officers, could a single killer truly dispatch them all? There must be unspoken rules governing the carnage.
Clarity settled upon her, calming her racing heart. She resolved to avoid the restroom altogether—it had become a perilous locus.
"The murderer's whereabouts are unknown—this is terrifying!"
"Has anyone notified the authorities?"
"I have. But there are still eight hours until the next station. That's an interminable wait!"
"There's no alternative; we've just entered the desert, and crossing it will consume eight hours. How unfortunate!"
Amidst the passengers' anxious discourse, Eric gleaned the critical detail: eight hours to the next station.
Drawing back the curtain, her gaze swept over an endless expanse of ochre desert dunes stretching beyond the horizon.
The train clattered steadily onward as Eric's fingers clenched the curtain in a taut grasp.
Eight hours… Could the salvation—the portal—await at the next stop? Or might it be concealed somewhere aboard this very train?
Yet, she deemed the former more plausible. Perhaps the challenge was to endure the murderous threat for eight agonizing hours, and upon the train's arrival, be granted deliverance—the gateway forward at hand.
Her mind raced as she glanced back; the youth had yet to return.
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than a fresh scream pierced the air. Rising swiftly, Eric moved toward its source.
Four more victims had fallen, all within the restrooms—four separate bathrooms, four simultaneous deaths.
Four individuals had entered distinct restrooms, only to perish concurrently.
Panic deepened among the passengers; none dared to approach the restrooms again.
Eric sank back into her seat, hands trembling uncontrollably.
Four killers—there were four murderers aboard this train!
Brazen and lawless, they slaughtered with reckless abandon within these confined carriages.