Chapter 1622: A Special Dream
It was the same train, the same lively atmosphere, the same enthusiastic vendors, and the same thugs boarding midway, inevitably appearing on the tracks ahead.
Shortly after boarding, Xu Huo found the driver and gave him a generous tip, allowing him to watch the scenery from the very front of the train. This time, he locked both the door and windows of the driver’s cabin, fending off the thugs while also having the driver contact the main station, reporting a nightmare murder incident on the train and requesting a stop.
The thugs indeed looked extremely violent, even beating the ticket seller who came to intervene.
The driver immediately reported to the main station, received the order to stop, and promptly pulled the brakes.
The stopping distance perfectly avoided the bound group of five, keeping them visible yet maintaining a safe distance—at least enough to prevent anyone from being scared to death.
This time, Xu Huo also tried his best to prevent the thugs from damaging the control levers or entering the driver’s cabin.
The train didn’t derail, no one died—in theory, this should have been a perfect resolution. But what he never expected was that a large number of thugs surged out from around the tracks, whether they were coming for him or for the thugs on the train. In any case, they charged fiercely, brandishing sharp weapons, and trampled the people tied to the tracks to death in the process.
Xu Huo returned to the ticket counter once again.
The people on the tracks, the train passengers, and the thugs—these were all fixed roles. Xu Huo’s several attempts to intervene at the main station had failed, making him suspect that he himself might be a fixed role on the train. So he returned to the train, contacted the main station through the driver, and tried to stop the train as peacefully as possible.
Yet an accident still occurred.
However, one thing was certain: the positions of the people on the tracks never changed.
No matter how the six people ultimately died, in at least nine out of ten attempts, the accident happened in the same place.
The reason he said nine times was because, among his attempts to interfere at the main station, only the ninth time—when he falsely reported a bomb—did the train’s final explosion timing differ slightly from the previous eight accidents. Otherwise, all accidents occurred about forty minutes after the train departed, and this time was no exception.
After sitting for a while, Xu Huo returned to the train. This time, he chose to hijack the train before the thugs boarded, forcing the driver to stop, and then engaged in a half-hour standoff with the security personnel who arrived later.
Half an hour, plus the ten-plus minutes the train had already traveled, now matched the time of the accidents from the first ten attempts.
After waiting another ten minutes, he finally released the driver and stepped off the train. But the moment he set foot outside, his vision blurred, and he was back on the ticket counter, still holding the same ticket.
Even the people walking past him were identical.
“Bang! Bang!” Someone was pounding on the door.
Xu Huo opened his eyes, got up, and opened the shelter door, looking at the person outside. “Something wrong?”
The one knocking was a stranger player. He pointed to the pile of food and water nearby. “Can you spare some of that? You can’t finish it all anyway. A few of us didn’t have time to prepare much food when we came in.”
It was already broad daylight. Xu Huo glanced at the players behind him. “Take one bag of jerky and two bottles of water.”
The food and water left by the two B-rank players were plentiful—several boxes stacked there. Even after sharing some with the Zone 013 people yesterday, plenty remained.
Xu Huo gave them large bags of jerky, not enough to fill them up, but sufficient to tide them over.
Ignoring the dissatisfied looks from those few, Xu Huo walked over to where the bodies were laid out.
“Two died last night,” Tong Qi said to him. “Not sure what happened. That Brown Skin City person had just slept during the day, but unexpectedly, not long after you went to sleep, he fell asleep too. He stopped breathing before dawn. Must have been a pleasant dream—he left with a smile.”
“You slept quite a long time this time. Any gains?” Chi Xian asked.
Xu Huo shook his head slightly. “Not yet, but one thing is certain: the sleep duration will keep getting longer.”
“We’ve already recorded the other players’ situations.” The scarred glasses handed him two sheets of paper. “Take a look too.”
It recorded the dreams the players had after falling asleep.
Most people’s situations were similar—either indulging in sweet dreams they couldn’t escape, or facing various choices. The more times they slept, the longer the duration, and the more monotonous the dream content became.
However, none of the recorded content showed anyone completely stuck in a single scenario like Xu Huo. There were also a few special cases: one was the Zone 013 person’s recurring nightmare about a cruise ship, another was planting trees—by the time they woke up, they had already planted over three hundred trees—and the third was reliving experiences from the early days of their evolution. Notably, the third player was a cannibal player.
In comparison, the dreams of the others were almost identical.
“How are they doing?” Xu Huo asked about those two players.
“They seem fine. The tree planter said they feel happy every time they start dreaming because they love plants. It only gets a bit tedious and annoying when they reach the critical point, just before waking up.”
“As for the cannibal, no need to say more. Although they didn’t say it outright, I still felt they were showing off their upgrade process. Probably thinking they could do even better if they had a second chance,” Tong Qi replied.
“Everyone’s dream progression is different, with little pattern,” Chi Xian added. “Looks like you were right. In the end, whether you can leave this instance probably depends on the individual. Whether you clear it or not, everyone has to go through this process.”
Moreover, each person’s experience was non-replicable, with a bit of luck involved.
Some players nearby were eavesdropping on their conversation. Upon hearing this, one said, “If that’s the case, there’s really no need for everyone to gather together to clear the instance.”
The crowd fell silent: That seemed to make sense.
“Don’t get it twisted. It’s because so many people are together that we reached this conclusion,” Young Master Mo suddenly interjected. “Without this, most players would probably still be hoping to snatch clues from others.”
“Also,” the beautiful female player added, “staying together ensures everyone’s safety for now.”
This effectively guaranteed everyone’s safety for the time being. As for whether anyone would make a move later—at least for now, no one had to hide.
“Did anyone go missing last night?” Xu Huo asked again.
Three players had disappeared from the mall, but it wasn’t noted on the record sheet.
“Not sure if they suddenly vanished,” Tong Qi said again. “Several people went out in the latter half of the night, and three didn’t come back.”
It was hard to determine the situation. Perhaps they were killed, but those who returned acted as if nothing had happened, so there was no point in investigating. Asking would be meaningless.