Inside the Stellar, resting beneath a field of stars in the desolate wasteland, Chen Mang's eyes narrowed as he studied the blueprint in his hand.
It was a white-grade vehicle accessory blueprint.
"Rapid-Shot Crossbow."
An offensive component. It couldn't be mounted on the roof of a standard carriage—instead, it had to be installed in a dedicated "open-air carriage," which could hold a maximum of eight crossbows.
The drawback was obvious: its firepower couldn't compare to the raw, devastating force of a heavy machine gun.
But the advantages were just as clear.
Being white-grade meant it consumed less energy, allowing for more frequent use without the same financial heartache. It wasn't like the heavy machine gun, where a single burst left you wondering if the enemy was hurt while you were. A hundred-odd slaves toiled for two days in the copper mines, and their entire output could be spent in the blink of an eye.
Besides—
He could upgrade the "Rapid-Shot Crossbow" to a high enough level, unlock a few game-breaking advanced effects, and its power might even surpass the heavy machine gun. This was the first white-grade ranged weapon accessory he'd ever seen."Not bad."
Chen Mang smiled, tucking the blueprint into his coat. He had high hopes for the "Rapid-Shot Crossbow." Judging by the name alone, he figured its power wouldn't be insignificant, making it highly useful in the early stages.
Of course, it was likely limited to the early stages.
Chen Mang returned to the locomotive and slapped the blueprint onto the control console. As it dissolved into motes of pale white light and integrated into the system, he gained the ability to craft the accessory at will. Even if the component were destroyed, he could rebuild it without needing the blueprint again.
Naturally, if the train itself were destroyed and he used a Train Token to create a new one, he would lose the authority to craft this accessory.
He didn't bother taking a detailed inventory of the other loot—just gave it a quick once-over. He would sort through it properly after returning to the Apocalypse Abyss. The mines there weren't fully depleted yet. He'd let the slaves rest for the night, but tomorrow, the digging would continue.
Today's battle had given him a firsthand look at the power of a Level 5 heavy machine gun paired with Level 3 bullets. It was impressive. With a slightly larger supply of ammunition, killing a Level 3 boss would be as simple as slaughtering a pig.
Still, until he found a Level 2 copper mine, he had no plans to use the weapon again. It was simply too expensive to fire.
Under the night sky, the Stellar began to accelerate, turning to head back toward the coordinates of the Apocalypse Abyss.
Time to go home.
Meanwhile, in Carriage #5, the guards who had been clutching their Dragon Assault Rifles, ready to join the fray at a moment's notice, finally let out a collective sigh of relief. The chaos outside had ceased, and the train was now moving smoothly across the wasteland.
"Alright," Biaozi said, sitting by the window. He watched the crimson-stained wasteland recede behind them, the knot of tension in his chest finally loosening. "The battle's over. Everyone, relax. Don't be so tense."
He was afraid. Who wasn't? He was terrified. If the train couldn't hold, the guards would have been the last line of defense. They would have had to go up against the threat.
Even if they wanted to run, there was nowhere to go. In the wasteland, if your train broke down or was destroyed, you'd be meeting your ancestors soon enough.
After the Stellar's last upgrade, their Carriage #5 had been converted into a hard-sleeper car. Every guard had their own designated bunk, and it was the only carriage on the train with windows. They had all witnessed the battle firsthand.
The sight of the ten-meter-tall zombie had been suffocating, its presence an almost physical pressure.
But thankfully, Boss Mang had held his ground and emerged victorious.
Only then did Biaozi turn to Shanmaozi, who was clutching a photograph. He smiled. "What's that? A picture of your girl?"
During the fight, Shanmaozi had been gripping the photo, which he'd pulled from somewhere, his face pale with fright. Ever since Biaozi had risked his life to save him, this once-rebellious subordinate had become exceptionally obedient. Biaozi had started to take a liking to him. With his short, neat haircut, he was clean and efficient in his work.
Shanmaozi looked a little embarrassed. He carefully tucked the portrait photo back into the hidden compartment of his necklace. "My ex-girlfriend," he said quietly. "We broke up just before the apocalypse."
"I see."
Biaozi lit a cigarette, took a drag, and leaned back against his seat, exhaling a plume of smoke. He glanced at the necklace around Shanmaozi's neck. The pendant was a steel plate, similar to a military dog tag, with a hidden compartment perfect for a photo.
"Was she pretty?"
"Hell yeah. Pretty and gentle."
"I don't know how to explain it. Before the apocalypse, I wasn't much of anything—just a worker at a container factory. But she never looked down on me. She'd say that a good life is something two people build together, slowly. That we should focus on our own lives, not be envious of others."
"If I have one regret in my life, it's probably that I never took her out for steak before we broke up."
"She always wanted to go for steak, said she'd treat me. Of course, I couldn't let her pay. The place was a bit pricey, but it wasn't like I couldn't afford it."
"I just... I always felt a little insecure, you know? I didn't feel comfortable in places like that. I figured I'd make more money later, that there'd be plenty of chances. I never thought..."
Shanmaozi, usually a man of few words, suddenly had a light in his eyes as he spoke of his ex-girlfriend, but it quickly dimmed.
"..."
Biaozi was silent for a long time. He looked down at the glowing ember of his cigarette and said softly, "In the apocalypse, being good-looking isn't a blessing."
Shanmaozi didn't reply. He just stared out the window, stroking the steel pendant in his hand for a long while before finally speaking.
"Just being alive is a blessing in itself."
"Why'd you break up?"
"She left without a word. A few months later, I heard from her friend that she'd gotten married. Met the guy on a blind date. I saw a picture of him. He was fat. Probably had a lot of money."
"You don't hate her?"
"No." Shanmaozi shook his head. "Everyone has the right to choose a better life. She was with me for a long time. It was I who failed to keep my promises to her."
Just then, Lao Zhu, who had been sitting quietly to the side, couldn't help but interject. "Brother, if I’m following this right? From what you're saying, you two had a great relationship, and she doesn't sound like the type to chase after money.” He paused, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “It sounds more like she might’ve been seriously ill—something terminal, maybe—and chose to leave without saying anything. Didn’t want to weigh you down.”
"..."
Shanmaozi was stunned. "It can't be that dramatic, can it?"
"It's possible," Lao Zhu said, his face serious. "Let's assume for a second she was seriously ill and needed a lot of money for treatment. If she told you, what would you do?"
"I'd die with her."