Game over

The door to the Train Conductor's Office slammed shut with a bang, and footsteps receded down the narrow corridor.

Wang Dazhu slumped in his seat, trembling uncontrollably, his arms locked around the cold black box in his lap. Not long before, the man in black had thrust it into his hands, saying only that it was a fake bomb meant to scare people.

He had believed him.

The man had patted his shoulder, his voice low with empathy. "Brother, I understand. I've tasted what it's like to be betrayed by the people closest to you, too. I'll help you with this."

Those few words had completely breached Wang Dazhu's last line of defense.

He was almost thirty, with an honest, unassuming face and a jacket washed pale. His phone screen was still lit, displaying a painfully glaring photograph-his wife, Li Cuifen, smiling radiantly with her arm affectionately linked through another man's.

That man was Zhang Degui, the close buddy he had grown up with.

Wang Dazhu's gaze was nailed to the photograph, his eyes bloodshot as he muttered over and over, "You're right there in carriage five... I saw everything. I'll drag both your names through the mud..."

Behind him, the train conductor and a guard lay unconscious in a pool of dark red blood.

Deputy Conductor Mo Lan was bound in a corner, her fingertips constantly rubbing against the rough rope. Its fibers had torn open the skin around her wrists, and blood wound down her forearms.

Wang Dazhu's neurotic muttering filled her ears as her eyes darted toward the unconscious old conductor again. Anxiety swept through her heart, and a sheen of tears quickly clouded her eyes. She clenched her teeth, not daring to cry aloud.

A faint wisp of azure mist slipped through the gap beneath the door, silently gliding inward along the cold floor.

The azure mist stopped before Mo Lan. Hazy currents churned, weaving a secret message of pale light in midair that passed soundlessly into her perception: Don't alert him. The devices are all live bombs. I'm disarming them one by one.

The next instant, the ropes binding her snapped apart inch by inch from the cores of their fibers without a sound.

The wounds on her wrists burned. Mo Lan forcibly suppressed the instinct to raise her hands, maintaining her original curled-up posture.

The azure mist swirled again, and new words appeared: Wait for my message. Keep all the passengers calm.

The mist slowly dispersed, quietly retreating through the same gap beneath the door.

Biting her lower lip, Mo Lan looked at the old conductor, still unconscious, and swore inwardly: Senior, this time, I'll protect this train and preserve your undefeated record.

At the same time, the card game continued in the VIP Suite deep inside the train.

Tang Qingye casually tossed out a card, his eyelids slightly lowered.

Big Baby's vision was linked to his consciousness, feeding every sight inside the carriages into his mind.

Azure mist traveled silently through the space above the train's ceiling.

One carriage, two, three.

The first bomb was beneath a seat in carriage two. Silken strands of mist wrapped around the device layer upon layer, seeped through gaps in its casing, and precisely severed the trigger circuit. The device's indicator light slowly went out.

The second was behind the toilet's water tank in carriage six. Mist threads infiltrated the wiring, cutting the circuit and reducing the bomb to useless scrap.

The third lay quietly inside a compartment in carriage one's luggage rack. Enveloped, disconnected.

The fourth was in carriage four: the black box in Wang Dazhu's arms. Azure mist crept up through the gaps in the floor, spread along his trouser legs, and covered the box's casing. Its internal wires were silently severed one by one. The indicator light on its casing remained lit, but inside, it was already an empty shell.

The fifth was outside the luggage compartment in carriage four.

Only a metal partition separated the man in black who had planted the bombs from the azure mist.

Threads of mist carefully probed inside, pausing for three seconds after severing each wire to avoid any disturbance.

The instant the final wire broke, the indicator on the detonator in the man's hand flickered faintly. He frowned slightly, dismissed it as a poor connection, and gave it no further thought.

All five live bombs had been disabled.

Tang Qingye gently placed his final card on the table. A faint smile spread across his lips as he leaned back in his chair. "I won this round."

Leng Nu Jiao angrily swept aside the cards in front of her. "You wicked young master, you must have cheated!"

"If you're a sore loser, just say so."

Smiling faintly, he tapped a card three times with his fingertip, producing three short, soft sounds.

Beside him, Leng Yaozhu held a celadon teacup, her lips barely moving. "How many threats in total?"

"Five real ones, one fake. The fake is in that man's arms."

"The one who planted the bombs?"

"Carriage four's luggage compartment. Dressed like an ordinary person, with Soul Emperor cultivation."

Leng Nu Jiao slapped her cards onto the table with a smack. "You both knew all along and deliberately kept me in the dark?!"

Tang Qingye rose and pushed his chair back. "I'm going to the restroom."

"You're not leaving! Explain yourselves!"

Before she finished speaking, Tang Qingye had already opened the door and walked out.

Leng Yaozhu took a small sip of hot tea and said calmly, "Sort out the cards. We'll continue when he comes back."

"Master!" Leng Nu Jiao looked utterly helpless.

In the corridor, Wang Dazhu trudged toward the broadcast console.

Before leaving, the man in black had given him one final instruction: play the second broadcast, say there were bombs in carriages one, three, and five, and drive everyone into carriages two, four, and six to create chaos.

He stood before the microphone, his back already soaked in cold sweat, his voice shaking uncontrollably. "P-passengers... I've planted bombs in carriages one, three, and five. Everyone, go to carriages two, four, and six for shelter immediately. Don't crowd. Move slowly..."

With that, he hurried away.

After the announcement ended, the deathly silence lasted only half a second.

"Bombs?!"

"Run!"

"Don't push! Let the elderly and children go first!"

Suitcases toppled, water bottles rolled across the floor, children wailed, elderly passengers staggered out of the way, and women screamed. Panic spread wildly like a surging tide as passengers scrambled over one another to flee into carriages two, four, and six.

Hidden in the shadows, the man in black quietly listened to the swelling commotion inside the carriages, a sinister smile curling his lips.

This was precisely the situation he wanted.

He looked down at the row of detonation buttons beside his hand. His gaunt fingers hovered above them, ready to press at any moment.

In the Train Conductor's Office, Mo Lan rushed to the broadcast console and slapped the communications switch.

Her voice was steadier and calmer than she had expected as it rang throughout the train:

"Passengers, this is Deputy Conductor Mo Lan. We are urgently verifying the contents of the previous announcement. Please remain calm, do not push one another, and take care of the elderly and children. Security personnel are conducting a full inspection. Please cooperate and maintain order."

The imminent danger of a stampede eased somewhat. The crowd shifted from uncontrollable frenzy to ongoing unrest, but carriages two, four, and six were already packed beyond capacity, and no one dared go back.

Mo Lan leaned over the broadcast console, panting rapidly.

A wisp of azure mist drifted back through the gap beneath the door, and pale writing appeared before her eyes: All five bombs have been disarmed.

Mo Lan's legs weakened, and she nearly collapsed.

She abruptly raised her head toward the surveillance screen. In a corner of carriage four's luggage area, the man in black reached out and slammed his finger onto a detonation button.

The first-no sound.

The second-nothing.

The third, fourth, fifth...

Every bomb had held fast!

The vicious grin on the man's face abruptly froze.

Towering fury erupted like a volcano. Immense soul power surged skyward, and his martial soul tore through the air behind him: a distorted black shadow wreathed in corrosive, evil energy.

Six soul rings slowly rose from beneath his feet: yellow, yellow, purple, purple, black, black.

Playing dirty with me? Then none of you will live!

He kicked open the compartment door and charged out of the luggage carriage.

Dense black energy swept toward the crowd packed into the corridor like a tidal wave.

Something abruptly tightened around his ankles.

Azure mist shot up through the gaps in the floor, turning into supple chains that wound tightly around his lower legs.

"What is this?!"

The mist pulled hard, dragging him half a meter along the floor and lodging him squarely at the intersection of two corridors, cutting off both advance and retreat.

Two sets of footsteps sounded simultaneously from the left and right.

On the left, a white-clad figure stepped through a carriage doorway.

The Heavenly Frost Sword slid three inches from its sheath. Biting cold instantly filled the entire corridor, coating the floor in a thin layer of frost. Six soul rings lit up in succession along the sword's hilt: yellow, yellow, purple, purple, black, black.

It was Wu Changkong.

Fleeing passengers had swept him here. Keenly detecting the violent fluctuations of evil soul power, he had immediately drawn his sword in readiness. Seeing the seven soul rings beneath the man in black's feet, he remained expressionless, angling his blade slightly as frosty air continued seeping from the gap in its sheath.

On the right, Mu Chen reached out to shield Yuan Bao'er behind him.

Nine soul rings appeared soundlessly. The pressure unique to a Titled Douluo descended like an overturning mountain, engulfing the entire corridor.

The man in black was trapped between them.

On his left was a Six-Ring Soul Emperor's biting sword intent, on his right the crushing pressure of a Titled Douluo, while the strange azure mist locked his ankles in place.

There was no escape, and he could not overpower them.

Wu Changkong said nothing.

Frost mist spread freely from within the scabbard as Second Soul Skill: Frost Mist activated.

Bitterly cold air instantly enveloped the man in black. All the black energy surrounding him froze in midair, and his body stiffened, turning into an ice sculpture in the blink of an eye.

Mu Chen lowered his gaze over the azure mist slowly dissipating along the floor, withdrew his soul rings, and put an arm around Yuan Bao'er. "Let's go," he said softly.

Wu Changkong sheathed his sword. His gaze lingered briefly on the faint azure marks remaining on the floor before he turned and left.

At almost the same moment, outside carriage five.

Wang Dazhu clutched the black box tightly, his voice tearing from his lungs. "Li Cuifen! Zhang Degui! You filthy cheating pair, get out here!"

Still shaken by the bomb scare, the passengers backed away at the sound while craning their necks to watch.

Someone pulled the carriage door open.

Li Cuifen and Zhang Degui stood side by side inside.

"Wang Dazhu, what madness is this?"

"I'm mad?" Wang Dazhu's eyes were bloodred. "Why didn't you think of today when you were fooling around with my brother?!"

He raised the black box high. "If you don't come out, I'll take you both down with me today..."

Before finishing, he glanced down at the box's surface. Pale azure words quietly appeared: This object is fake. Do not act rashly again.

Wang Dazhu suddenly hurled the box hard against the floor.

With a dull clatter, the black box bounced twice and rolled to Zhang Degui's feet.

There was no explosion.

After a brief, deathly silence, laughter erupted from the crowd, and their hearts finally settled back into place.

Wang Dazhu slowly crouched down, staring fixedly at the box that would not explode. The hatred filling his chest gradually turned to bewilderment. Finally, he clutched his head and broke down sobbing.

The train's broadcast sounded again, Mo Lan's calm voice reaching every carriage:

"Passengers, all safety threats aboard this train have been eliminated. The train will continue operating normally and is expected to arrive in Heaven Dou City on time. Thank you all for your cooperation."

The passengers, their nerves stretched taut, either slumped into their seats to rest or quietly comforted frightened children. The chaos inside the carriages gradually subsided.

Wu Changkong returned to his window seat and quietly watched the scenery rushing backward outside.

Mu Chen held Yuan Bao'er as he closed his eyes and regulated his breathing, silently committing the number of that mysterious VIP Suite to memory.

Inside the VIP Suite, Tang Qingye took his seat at the card table again. Leng Nu Jiao stared at him without blinking.

"What did you go out to do just now?"

"Some people were having a dispute outside, arguing in public. Quite a lively scene."

"Then what about the man in black lying in the corridor?"

"Oh, I ran into a fellow who accidentally took a tumble."

Leng Nu Jiao pressed a hand to her forehead. "Do you take me for a three-year-old?"

Leng Yaozhu sipped her tea and asked mildly, "Everything handled?"

"Yes. All five bombs are useless now."

Leng Nu Jiao sprang to her feet. "You master and disciple knew there were bombs all along, yet neither of you told me a thing?!"

Tang Qingye exchanged a look with his master, and both lowered their heads to sort their cards.

"I bid landlord."

"I raise."

"Aaaaah!"

Outside the suite, the train sped onward into a gilded expanse of evening clouds.