Chapter Two: The Magical Train

Just like being startled out of a daydream in class, Gao Ning suddenly snapped awake.

In front of him hovered a thirty-inch light screen, replaying over and over the moments before and after his death.

“What… What is this…”

Gao Ning was bewildered.

“Awake now?” A woman’s cold, emotionless voice drifted from the front.

Gao Ning looked up, and as his gaze shifted, the light screen vanished instantly.

The abruptness of it startled him yet again.

“Don’t be nervous, child. It’s perfectly normal!” This time the voice was gentle, like that of a kindly grandmother.

Following the sound, Gao Ning turned and was instantly at a loss for words.

What was this situation? The woman before him was indeed a grandmotherly figure, but why was she dressed like a character straight from The Matrix? Her hair was white and curled, her face radiated warmth, yet she wore a leather trench coat and heavy boots—it was an oddly mismatched sight. And what was with the holstered gun at her side? Were they filming a movie?

Seeing Gao Ning’s astonished expression, the old woman chuckled softly. “You’re quite lucky this time—no tears or panic. Seems you’re a reliable young man! Not bad, not bad! Xiao Bing, you explain things to him, will you? I suppose he’s full of questions right now!”

With a smile, she turned and entered another train car.

Only then did Gao Ning realize he was inside a moving carriage.

Wait a minute—The Matrix, firearms, and this bizarre post-mortem journey—damn it! Had he fallen into the Lord God’s Dimension? That was the greatest of all traps; no matter who you were, even gods and devils couldn’t escape the grasp of the Main God. You might have your moment of freedom, but in the end, you’d be reduced to dust.

A chill raced through Gao Ning, and a bead of sweat slid down his temple.

“This isn’t the Lord God’s Dimension!”

Gao Ning jerked his head up, momentarily stunned.

The speaker was a young woman dressed in tight black combat gear, legs long and lean, a tactical vest hugging her upper body, her arms fair and slender, a pair of gloves toying with a dagger, and a shotgun slung across her back.

She looked just like a character from a combat video game come to life.

Gao Ning was momentarily at a loss, his lips parting as if to speak.

But the woman continued, “I can’t read minds, either.”

Gao Ning broke into a nervous sweat. “That’s not what I was going to ask!”

She gave a nonchalant “mm,” showing no trace of embarrassment.

Gao Ning glanced around. It was indeed a train carriage—spacious, with only a few large wooden crates scattered about, half the area empty. A thick layer of straw covered the floor, making it comfortable to sit.

“Miss, where exactly are we right now…?”

“My name’s Liang Bing. Just call me by my name.”

“Alright, Liang Bing, so where are we? Oh—my name’s Gao Ning, just an ordinary office worker.”

After seeing everything on that light screen, Gao Ning knew something was very wrong, but out of caution, he chose his words carefully. After all, with the internet so developed and VR technology advancing by leaps and bounds, it’d take only a bored rich kid to orchestrate an elaborate prank show, and one careless move could make you an overnight online sensation.

For someone like Gao Ning, who wished nothing more than to be invisible online, that would be nothing short of catastrophic. In an age where fame could explode with the slightest spark, it paid to tread carefully.

Liang Bing seemed to pick up on his underlying concern but said nothing, replying simply, “You saw it just now, didn’t you?”

“Saw what?”

“No need to play dumb,” she replied coolly. “When each of us appears here, a light screen replays the cause of our deaths. Believe it or not, all of us here are already dead.”

Gao Ning’s brow twitched. Even though he’d braced himself, the words still made his heart skip a beat.

Liang Bing pointed downward. “This is indeed a train, but the destination is… rather unsettling.”

Gao Ning ventured, “Another world?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” she answered, clearly uninterested in explaining further. “This is a miraculous place. Those of us who have died can linger here for a while. The conductor will assign tasks at each station stop. Completing them brings unexpected rewards.”

“What kind of rewards?”

“Time.”

Gao Ning was puzzled.

“If death means a person has used up their allotted time, then gaining extra time means…”

“Extended life?”

He regretted blurting it out the moment he finished, thinking it impossible and about to apologize when Liang Bing nodded.

“That’s right—extra life.”

“What did you say?” Gao Ning sprang to his feet.

“No need to be so agitated,” Liang Bing said indifferently. “It’s remarkable, but not without cost. Each task is difficult. You’ll need strength, wisdom, and luck.”

“Wait, did you just say extra life? How does that work?” Gao Ning interrupted.

Liang Bing glanced at him and replied flatly, “Change the fact of your death. Extend your lifespan.”

Even though he’d already suspected as much, hearing the words aloud was profoundly shocking.

So that was the time in question?

It was almost unbelievable.

Gao Ning had always been a well-behaved child—attending school dutifully, never late, always completing homework, right through to graduate school. Perhaps because his elder brother was a bit of a rogue, his father had been particularly strict with him, bordering on overprotective. His only hobbies growing up were reading and fishing.

Fortunately, Gao Ning was patient and mild-tempered. Even during his rebellious years, he never thought to defy his parents—at most, he’d grumble a bit, but by the next day he’d be back to his usual, obedient self.

Because of this, he’d learned a great deal at university, and after graduation, his career had progressed smoothly, advancing from junior architect to project supervisor in less than two years.

He’d only accepted the recent café renovation project to get a feel for the supervisory process. Who could have guessed that before he even finished his cup of coffee, he’d be sent to the afterlife?

No, not the afterlife—aboard this… train!

A thousand thoughts crowded his mind: dreams of resurrection, flashes of his parents’ faces, fantasies of another world, and the vivid memory of his own death.

After a long and torturous cycle, his mind finally fixed on the Red Alert paratrooper mod he’d just installed but hadn’t had time to try.

“What a pity…” he sighed.

Just then, a sudden “beep” sounded in his mind—and to his shock, the Red Alert control panel appeared right before his eyes.

Gao Ning froze, stupefied.