Under the awe of everyone's gaze, Su Huan walked alone onto the train roof.
The four parallel trains made the rooftop extremely wide, resembling a giant flying fortress. The mechanical arms occasionally moved to check if the low temperature had caused structural damage.
However, the materials used on the train were at least Tier Two, not inferior in structural strength to pre-apocalyptic space stations, and could withstand temperatures of about minus one hundred degrees.
There were just not many people.
Cold currents swept past Su Huan's ears but didn't take away any warmth, like white dragons encircling him, angrily roaring.
"What are you hesitating about?"
A woman with broken legs sat beside Su Huan, her cheeks thin, gaze colder than the snowstorm.
Su Huan sat at the train's front, unsurprised by the woman's appearance.
The woman was his orphanage director years ago, who died on the day the apocalypse came.
Now this was likely his hallucination.
