In the darkness of the night.
The train continued to speed into the distance.
Chen Mang sat in the constantly undulating carriage, his expression somewhat dazed. That clanging sound was not the sound of the train's wheels hitting the tracks, but the ground.
In recent days, he had noticed.
This train was not running on tracks but directly on the ground, which was quite unique.
Just then—
"Hmm?"
Chen Mang was slightly stunned. He suddenly felt the birthmark on the back of his hand, which had always accompanied him, heating up. Instinctively looking there, he saw a translucent panel suddenly floating in front of him.
-
"Survived 3 days, unlocking the Train Captain Panel."
"And receiving a starter reward: gls handgun*1, with 18 rounds of 9mm bullets."
"Triggering the starter Train Captain tasks."
"1: Acquire a train of your own within three months. Rewards unknown."
"2: Have three thugs and ten slaves within three months. Rewards unknown."
"3: Kill 10 zombies within three months. Rewards unknown."
"The shorter the time taken, the greater the rewards."
"Complete the three starter Train Captain tasks to formally unlock the 'Train Captain Panel'."
-
The somewhat sci-fi scene before him made Chen Mang pause slightly, especially the pale white glow of the panel, which appeared extremely glaring in the entirely dark carriage. He instinctively glanced around.
But found no one had a special reaction.
It was as if...
Only he could see this panel.
"..."
After staying silent for a long time, Chen Mang finally lowered his head to look at the birthmark on the back of his hand that had stopped heating. He gently stroked it, somewhat dazed.
His name was Chen Mang.
He named himself this way; growing up in an orphanage without parents, he had an extremely special birthmark on the back of his hand, which seemed like the Chinese character "Mang."
Many times.
He thought perhaps this was something his unseen parents left for him, so he named himself Chen Mang.
Unexpectedly, this birthmark that had accompanied him his entire life only showed its purpose in this world. Perhaps... his parents had crossed over long ago, leaving this behind for him before they were forced to depart?
He couldn't help but laugh, shaking his head to dismiss these absurd thoughts.
Through exploration, he had roughly understood how to use this panel; it could automatically appear in front of him or retract according to his thoughts. When he placed his hand in his pocket, he felt a heavy handgun with a cool brass texture and a heap of bullets.
The reward had indeed arrived.
But the problem is...
He tucked the handgun into his back waistband and covered it with his clothes, stuffing all the bullets into his clothing pockets. Only after doing all this did he breathe a sigh of relief; this thing wasn't entirely good news.
If the thugs in the front carriages found out that a slave like him had something like this, it probably wouldn't end well.
Even if he had perfect aim, he couldn't withstand so many thugs head-on. What's more, the heavy weaponry loaded on the train was the main focus; a handgun couldn't contend with that.
Once they reached the mine.
He needed to find a place with no one around to take it out for further study.
Just like that...
Amidst a dazed state, feeling like it had been traveling for four to five hours, when the sky began to lighten, the train's speed finally slowed down, eventually halting with a clang somewhere on the wasteland.
The next moment—
"Bang!"
The carriage door was suddenly flung open, and a group of thugs in steel boots, with guns at their waists and batons in hand, stood at the doorway shouting angrily, driving each slave out of the carriage. There were dedicated individuals at the door distributing picks.
Each slave received one.
Except for three people.
Chen Mang and two other slaves who looked particularly fierce and brawny. Clearly, their main task was to oversee the work.
...
"Stand properly, all of you!"
A roar echoed.
All the slaves, somewhat weak, crowded on the wasteland, while Chen Mang and the other two overseer slaves stood at the forefront of their respective carriages' slaves. The man standing on the carriage was the same middle-aged man who had come to teach him a lesson not long ago, now assigning tasks from the carriage.
"..."
Chen Mang casually glanced around, feeling the fresh, cool air that made his body feel much more comfortable.
Having been stuck in the carriage for three days, the pungent smell was enough to conquer everyone.
He was wearing a thin jacket, with a short sleeve inside, and trousers on his lower half.
The morning chill of the wasteland seeped through him.
All that met his eyes was wasteland.
An endless wasteland, with no trees or ruins, only parched land appearing quite barren. Beside him was a small mound several meters high, with a clearly visible mine opening at its sloped section.
This must be the mine.
It seemed non-compliant, with almost no safety measures, entirely relying on fate.
And at this moment—
The middle-aged man in steel boots standing on top of the carriage had finished assigning tasks. Three slave teams entered the three areas of the mine to begin mining. Before that, each slave needed a full meal.
Many thugs began pulling out several boxes of moldy bread slices and slightly sandy water from the carriage for distribution.
All the slaves strained to catch sight, tiptoeing to queue for their share, fearful that supplies would run out before reaching them.
On this day.
Every slave was able to receive ten slices of bread and three cups of water, far exceeding their usual food supply. Before doing hard work, naturally, they should eat their fill.
As for the three overseer slaves.
Each received six hot moldy buns, two bags of pickles, two bottles of mineral water, and a walkie-talkie.
When they were digging in the mines, the train and thugs would station outside. In the event of an emergency, they would contact them through the walkie-talkie, and they must bring all the slaves out as quickly as possible and escape back to the train.
When the announcement of dismissal, free movement, and post-meal descent into the mines was made.
All the slaves dispersed, finding spots to sit on the ground and begin eating voraciously.
...
"Have a taste."
Chen Mang tilted his head to look at the middle-aged man who had been following him closely, and tossed him a bun and half a bag of pickles before finding a quiet corner to sit down.
Slowly chewing the bun in his hand.
He wasn't particularly hungry because it hadn't been long since his last midnight snack.
But on the wasteland, having food was always good; keeping full strength was never a bad thing.
While observing the other two overseer slaves, he casually asked quietly.
"Do you have a name?"
"Thank you, big brother, thank you!"
This somewhat slick-looking middle-aged man, after carefully accepting the warm bun, repeatedly expressed his gratitude, and after hearing this newly acknowledged big brother asking his name, he was momentarily stunned. Soon after, unable to hide his excitement, he whispered.
"Big brother, my name is Old Pig."
"Surname Lao?"
"Yes, yes, it's an uncommon surname."
Chen Mang shook his head and couldn't help laughing: "Who names their child Pig."
"When I was young, life was hard. My parents hoped I could live happily like a pig, with no worries about food and drink, waking up naturally each day."
"My mother had a mental disability, having lost all her limbs in a car accident as a child, marrying my father after they met. My father was deaf and mute, doing physical labor on a construction site."
"We lived in an abandoned shipping container."
"Soon after I was born, my mother was alone at home and died in a fire. My father died when I was nine, falling from a scaffold."
"But thinking about it, it's good that they died."
"If they had lived to see doomsday, it would have been more painful."
"..."
The smile on Chen Mang's face gradually stiffened, and he didn't speak, merely taking another bite of the bun expressionlessly, chewing.
As for Old Pig, he didn't mind and still wore an excited smile.
In doomsday.
A name is an important thing; asking someone's name, in some sense, is a preliminary acceptance of that person. For instance... the thug leader of this train didn't bother asking big brother's name.
After all, for someone who could be replaced at any time, knowing their name didn't matter.