Arriving at the Station

Chen Chuan walked at an unhurried pace into the carriage. "It seems you were the one responsible for the arrangements on this train?" In sheer panic, the man bolted backward and grabbed the handle of the rear door. Whether it had been locked from the start or terror robbed him of his strength, he twisted it several times without budging it. He slammed against the door, kicking, pounding, and yanking desperately, but could not force it open. While he was still trying, a hand reached out, seized his head, and slammed it against the door with a loud thud. The man's face, along with the ritual markings etched upon it, was instantly mashed into a gory ruin. Leaving a smear of blood down the door, he slumped limply to the floor. Chen Chuan glanced at him, then turned and walked back into the previous carriage. Just then, frantic screams suddenly rang out from beyond, accompanied by the sounds of retching and shouting. The entire train seemed to tremble with the commotion. He knew at once that the passengers had broken free from the esoteric ritual. Bureau Director Lei must have destroyed the ritual nodes on the outside. At that moment, Lindenberg, who had been endlessly repeating his earlier words, also woke up. Taking in his current surroundings, he looked somewhat astonished. Yet despite the gruesome bloodbath across the floor, he remained remarkably composed. He looked at the masked Chen Chuan. "Sir, was I held hostage?" Chen Chuan looked down at him. "You are safe now." "Are you with the Great Shun government, sir?" Although phrased as a question, Lindenberg's tone was confident. He studied Chen Chuan's attire, nodded, and groped around the floor until he found a hat. Putting it on, he climbed to his feet and brushed the dust from his clothes. He surveyed the area. "It seems I was fortunate." He was indeed fortunate. Out of the three corporate representatives present, he was the sole survivor. Yet luck was not the only factor. Beneath the scraped skin of his forehead, bone with a near-metallic, dark gray luster was exposed—an implanted hardened cranium. Lindenberg seemed to notice something then. Taking two steps forward, he unzipped a travel bag, revealing bundles of cylindrical objects coated in red. "Ah, Great Shun-manufactured 'Thunderbolt Fire' explosives. Formidable stuff. Looks like they didn't even have time to rig them." He looked up and said, "You arrived in the nick of time, sir. Any later, and not even this hard skull of mine would have saved me." As he spoke, he tapped his own head in jest. "I didn't come here specifically to save you," Chen Chuan said. "Then did you come to rescue the passengers, sir?" Lindenberg asked. "I am a passenger as well, so I must still thank you." He took off his hat, pressed it against his chest, and bowed slightly. "Sven Lindenberg, commercial representative of the Bolun Company. My deepest thanks for your rescue." Chen Chuan gave him a nod and, carrying his saber, walked outside. Under the frightened, bewildered gazes of the passengers, he made his way through the carriages to an exit, tore apart the iron chain wrapped around the door with a single pull, and stepped out. Outside, daylight had grown a little brighter. Gunfire had ceased echoing from the hills on either side; his teammates had presumably subdued the resistance members stationed there. Looking up toward the sky, he saw the hot-air balloon drifting in one direction, appearing as though it were descending. His brows lifted slightly. Still, that was for Bureau Director Lei to handle. His own task was done. Carrying a briefcase, Lindenberg followed him down from the train. Standing not far behind, he said, "Pardon me, but the stench of blood inside the train is simply too overpowering." Chen Chuan paid him no mind. The passengers inside had been terrified and had not dared to move. Now, seeing that no one was stopping them and that leaving appeared safe, they scrambled out one after another. The environment inside was hardly fit for ordinary people to endure. Presently, the rumble of approaching vehicles sounded in the distance. Chen Chuan turned to see a convoy of armed constabulary patrol cars arriving. To avoid tipping off the resistance, most constables had been kept in the city beforehand. But the moment the telegram came through, Guan Yuming immediately dispatched the ready team. The resistance fighters sent to intercept them naturally stood no chance against such a large force. When the patrol cars pulled up, the constables were startled by Chen Chuan's appearance, as his mask looked rather menacing. A squad captain stepped forward first and asked in a low voice, "Brother Chen?" He glanced inside the train. "Settled?" Chen Chuan nodded and produced his weapons license to show him. He had no intention of taking off his mask, which would only invite trouble later. The captain breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing it and offered a salute. He then turned to order his men and coroners inside to inspect the carriages. Chen Chuan gave him a brief debriefing. After hearing it, the captain sent men up the hills on either side to investigate. Before long, Wei Chang'an, Ren Xiaotian, and their teams came down from the slopes to regroup with him. Everyone seemed at ease, and no one was injured. On Ren Xiaotian's side, thanks to the combat spider's support, the resistance members had failed to put up any meaningful fight before being subdued. Wei Chang'an's side had been slightly more tedious, requiring a trek across a mountain trail. Fortunately, the enemies there were few, and his team held superior numbers, firearms, and gear, making quick work of them without difficulty. The train could not remain blocked here for long and had to resume service. Since the situation at the scene was already clear and did not warrant detailed investigations into causes of death, they spent about three-quarters of an hour clearing out the bodies and scattered remains. After cross-checking every person's identity and ticket, the constables permitted the passengers to reboard. Lindenberg walked up to Chen Chuan, presenting a card with both hands. "I suppose we must part ways here, sir. This is my personal card. If you ever wish to purchase Bolun Company implants, you can find me in Center City. I can help secure the best price for you. Bolun enjoys an exceptional reputation worldwide for sensory and neural implants." He was clever enough not to pry into Chen Chuan's name, offering only the card. Chen Chuan did not decline and took it. While he had no need for such things himself, once he arrived in Center City, dealing with these corporations would be unavoidable. Even if he had no use for them, someone he knew might. Seeing the passengers tremulously returning to the train under the constables' direction, Chen Chuan said to his companions, "Everyone, our commission is complete. We can head back now." Meanwhile, the constables had relayed the situation back via radio. Upon receiving the message, Guan Yuming breathed a sigh of relief. Although nearly all the corporate representatives had perished, the vast majority of the passengers had survived. He— The bureau chief's voice came over the line: "Rescue them ahead of time? For whose benefit? We are willing to do the work, but we can't do it in silence. People need to know we've done it—especially certain individuals. We cannot let them take our efforts for granted." "A good number of corporate representatives died this time." "Foreign companies, not Great Shun's. What does that have to do with us? Did I invite them? Yangzhi will be more peaceful without them!" Guan Yuming said in a heavy voice, "Those companies may pressure the Municipal Administration afterward. After all, this happened within Yangzhi City's borders." The voice on the other end took on a meaningful tone. "Old Guan, I won't be in this position much longer. You need to understand what the higher-ups truly want." With that, the line went dead with a click. While Chen Chuan was wrapping things up at the train, Bureau Director Lei had already led the esoteric constabulary in pursuit of the descending hot-air balloon. However, it had landed deep in the mountains. Though it looked close, the terrain was treacherous, with steep slopes requiring long detours. It took nearly an hour to reach the crash site, only to find the obvious: the basket had long been abandoned. A squad member took off his hat, panting heavily. "Director, it seems he got away." Bureau Director Lei examined the surrounding tracks and pondered for a moment. "Not necessarily." He turned to his men. "Send a telegram once we get back. Have the constabulary coordinate with us to inspect everyone getting off the train. Cross-check each person's identity as thoroughly as possible." Meanwhile, after running for three-quarters of an hour, the restarted Changshun train finally pulled into the Yangzhi City station. As soon as the carriages came to a halt, the shaken passengers poured out onto the platform as if fleeing a disaster. Among the crowd, a long-haired young man stepped off. Carrying a drawing board on his back, he walked toward the exit at an unhurried pace. Compared to the flustered, scuttling passengers, his demeanor appeared completely normal—so normal that it bordered on out of place. After exiting the station, he stood in the square, squinting against the somewhat glaring sunlight, and extended a hand toward the right. Moments later, a luxury sedan pulled up alongside him. He walked over, opened the door, and took a seat in the back. Once the door closed, the driver turned his head and asked, "Sir, did the art exhibition go smoothly?" In a voice tinged with magnetic resonance, the man sighed. "Truly a pity. This exhibition was far too rushed, with far too many flaws. It was not a successful piece. I believe I need to seek inspiration elsewhere." "Where to next, sir?" The man smiled faintly. "Center City. Surely more people there yearn for fresh colors." "Very well, sir. Please sit tight." The man smiled and rested his hand against the open window, waving gently toward the outside as if bidding farewell to an invisible onlooker. The sedan then rolled smoothly out of the station square, heading in the direction of National Boulevard.