Translator: AnubisTL
Clang, clang, clang!
The night was as black as ink, so thick it seemed to swallow the entire world. Across the vast, endless wasteland, a train like an iron beast roared forward.
The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels against the tracks was like a symphony played by an anonymous hero in the darkness. Each impact sent tremors through the carriage.
Whoosh
Inside the carriage, Chen Mang huddled in a corner on a straw mat, trying to synchronize his body with the constant jolting to minimize his nausea, much like on a ferry.
The carriage was dimly lit. There were no windows, only two dim light bulbs overhead. The air was thick with a pungent stench—a mixture of sweat, foot odor, urine, feces, and vomit—a stench as potent as a dry latrine in the sweltering summer heat, if not worse.
He had managed to claim a relatively clean spot in the corner, but even so, his face was pale.
Three days. For nearly three days, he had consumed only two cups of muddy water mixed with sand and two slices of moldy bread. Nothing else.
The carriage before him, three meters wide and ten meters long, was crammed with over a hundred people. Every single one of them had their eyes bloodshot with hunger. If he hadn't been fiercely guarding the straw beneath him, these ravenous wolves would have torn it away and devoured it long ago.
These people were barely distinguishable from madmen.
This was his third day since transmigrating to this world.
A world reduced to apocalyptic ruins, stripped of all basic order.
Just then—
A hulking brute, reeking of filth and clad in rags, had somehow sidled up beside him. His eyes, gleaming with greed, fixed on the straw beneath Chen Mang's rear as he rasped, "Brother, scoot over a bit, will ya? You can't possibly need that whole straw mat all to yourself."
Seeing no response from Chen Mang, the brute licked his lips and turned to the crowd, his voice rising, "What do you all say, folks?"
But the words abruptly died in his throat.
From his corner, Chen Mang lunged forward, pinning the brute to the ground. Without waiting for the man to react, he gripped the sharpened tree branch in his hand and drove it straight into the man's eye socket.
Once. Twice. Three times.
After the fourth strike, the man's struggles abruptly ceased.
Chen Mang stopped. He didn't have much stamina left and needed to conserve it. The man beneath him struggled violently, like a rooster with its throat cut. Chen Mang said nothing, simply sat on the man's chest, his hand clamped tightly around his neck. After several dozen seconds, when the man's body had gone completely limp, he finally lifted his head, his eyes filled with a ruthless glare that swept over everyone in the carriage.
Only after every pair of eyes instinctively avoided his did he kick the corpse aside and return to his straw mat, trying to keep his chest movements as subtle as possible to avoid appearing too weak.
Witnessing this scene in the dim light, no one dared to utter a sound. The greed that had briefly flickered in their eyes quickly faded, and they unconsciously moved as far away from Chen Mang as possible.
For a moment, the crowded carriage suddenly had a wide open space around Chen Mang.
"Hmph."
Chen Mang leaned against the carriage's metal wall, hiding the sharpened branch under his straw mat. If he had killed the man any slower, it would have been him lying dead. These people were no longer human; they were bloodthirsty demons.
Once someone took the lead, the evil thoughts in their hearts would be amplified infinitely. No matter how skilled he was, he couldn't fight off an entire mob like that.
This was his first kill.
It was harder than he'd expected, yet also simpler.
To be honest, his heart was racing, and his hands and feet trembled slightly. But he couldn't show the slightest sign of discomfort. If he did, these people would swarm him like starving wolves.
It wasn't just the straw mat at stake; his body, noticeably cleaner than theirs, was also a target.
With the burly man's death, the carriage fell silent once more. No one spoke, no one had the energy to. They were conserving their strength. But then—
The door connecting the carriages swung open.
Bright light flooded in from outside, revealing three men with pistols tucked in their belts and batons in their hands. Their faces were expressionless as their steel-toed boots stomped carelessly on everyone in the carriage. No one dared to utter a word of complaint or pain.
They walked straight to Chen Mang.
The leader first glanced at the corpse, then at Chen Mang sitting on the straw mat. Without changing his expression, he asked, "You killed him?"
Before Chen Mang could reply, the man waved his hand. The two men behind him stepped forward and began raining blows on Chen Mang with their batons, each strike delivered with full force.
Chen Mang could only huddle in the corner, desperately shielding his head and clenching his teeth to suppress any sound.
The beating lasted nearly a full minute.
Finally, the two men stopped swinging their batons.
The leader, glancing at Chen Mang curled silently in the corner, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, let out a cold snort and rasped, "Everyone here is Master Kun's slave. You've got guts to kill someone here."
"Tough, huh?"
"But you're lucky. Master Kun has taken a liking to you. From now on, you'll be the head of this batch of slaves."
"You'll be in charge of them all. If they slack off or cause any trouble, you'll be held fully responsible."
With a wave of his hand, his subordinates quickly returned to the brightly lit carriage, retrieving a bag of pickled vegetables, two moldy steamed buns, and a bottle of Mineral Water, which they tossed onto Chen Mang's straw mat.
Then, in front of everyone, they threw the corpse out through the gap between carriages before closing the door again.
The carriage plunged into darkness once more.
Only the rhythmic clack-clack-clack of the train wheels echoed through the car.
It was hurtling toward an unknown destination.
After the others had left, Chen Mang gritted his teeth and hauled himself up from the floor. He sat back down on his straw mat, leaning against the carriage's iron wall. He tore open a small bag of pickled vegetables and slowly chewed on two slightly moldy steamed buns.
They were warm.
Though not particularly delicious, they were still warm buns and pickled vegetables, far better than the moldy bread slice he'd had before. The moment the warm bun entered his mouth, his upper palate ached slightly from the dryness, unable to chew such coarse food properly due to his extreme hunger.
He twisted open a bottle of mineral water and downed nearly half of it in one gulp.
After finishing one bun, his stomach felt no fuller, but his body did seem to have recovered somewhat.
"..."
Chen Mang narrowed his eyes, staring intently at the carriage connection. In the instant the door had opened earlier, he'd glimpsed the carriage ahead. It was brightly lit with daylight lamps and filled with rows of seats.
About twenty thugs were seated there.
As he was being beaten, the thugs turned to watch, laughing and chatting among themselves.
He had guessed correctly.
The reason he had suddenly killed the burly man wasn't just for self-preservation. It was also because he knew that in this environment, the rulers often needed a lower-Tier manager, and he hadn't seen such a person in this carriage.
He needed that position, and the carriages ahead needed him too.
That position would give him access to more information.
From the moment he was dragged into this carriage and learned their destination was a mine, he knew that even if he killed someone, the people in the carriages ahead were unlikely to kill him.
After all, killing him would mean losing two slaves, while not killing him would only mean losing one.
Inside the carriage, Chen Mang could faintly see countless greedy eyes fixed on the steaming bun in his hand. The sound of throats swallowing rose and fell like cicadas on a summer day, yet no one dared to approach.
(End of the Chapter)
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