Chapter Eighty-Three: There Is No Tomorrow in This World

Opening the isolation door, they entered the storage carriage.

In the midst of messy straw, a high school student in a uniform was curled up right where Gao Ning had been earlier, his eyes staring blankly, his expression vacant.

"Looks like it'll be a while before he wakes up. It's a process everyone goes through the first time they enter," Liang Bing explained, standing casually to the side with her arms crossed, quietly waiting.

Gao Ning stepped forward for a closer look. He couldn't see the light screen that indicated the cause of death; apparently, only he could see that.

Zhou Banshen clicked his tongue in wonder. "So this is the so-called official entry procedure? Mine was better! I dropped from the sky—sure, I fell hard, but I didn’t end up this dumb!"

The other two ignored him, letting Zhou Banshen circle the high schooler curiously.

A few minutes later, the student suddenly shivered and came to his senses.

An old, wrinkled face appeared before his eyes, startling the boy. "Damn! Who are you?"

His voice was so loud that even Zhou Banshen jumped in surprise, stumbling back two steps. "Kid, you’re really clueless. I saw you sitting there like your soul had left your body and was just checking if you were a short-lived ghost. If you had a bit more life left, I might've helped you with a ritual to call your soul back. But you just about scared the spirit out of me with that yell!"

Zhou Banshen rubbed his face in discomfort, while the high schooler’s own face darkened. "Old man, who are you calling grandpa? Slap on a goatee and you think you’re something big? Are you looking for a fight?"

Gao Ning nodded approvingly.

Not bad—this kid knows his boundaries. He only thought about scolding, not hitting. Clearly, he’s well-raised. You can’t just hit an old man; if he falls and plays dead, you could lose half a house at best, or half your life at worst.

After a brief exchange, they returned to the main topic.

The high schooler looked around, then turned to Gao Ning and asked, "Who are you people?"

Gao Ning said to Liang Bing, "He’s still young—doesn't even know the right questions to ask. I remember when I woke up, my first question was, 'Where am I?' See, that's what it means to grasp key information subconsciously."

Liang Bing turned away, ignoring him.

Zhou Banshen chuckled. "Really? That happened?"

"Of course," Gao Ning replied. "My mind was a mess at first, but I knew to think quickly and gather useful information. In just thirty seconds, I realized I didn’t know why I was here!" He lifted his chin, visibly proud.

Zhou Banshen, quick-witted as ever, immediately caught on. "Well, it seems you’re quite something yourself. When I was younger, I was a bright kid too. If I hadn’t wasted time on Taoist training, I’d have topped the exams, or at least been a strategist for the Eighth Route Army!"

"Kids these days are spoiled by their parents—they avoid using their brains at all costs. Their minds are so rusty they’re like old weights, and not even good for cracking walnuts, let alone learning new things!"

The high schooler’s face grew darker. "Alright, enough with the comedy routine. You just want me to figure it out myself, right? Can’t you just say it straight?"

He closed his eyes, pressed his fingers hard against his brow, and furrowed his eyebrows. Gradually, as he massaged his brow from fast to slow, his frown eased. About half a minute later, his eyes snapped open, a flash of intelligence in them.

Gao Ning’s eyes lit up, and he blurted out, "A new machine, one touch and you know everything!"

The high schooler was about to speak but was interrupted, nearly choking in the process. He coughed hard, his face and neck flushed before he finally caught his breath.

Then, looking Gao Ning up and down, he said seriously, "Uncle, are you an idiot? What year do you think it is? Hong Kong’s already been returned! Can you grow up a little?"

Gao Ning brushed his hair awkwardly. "I was just trying to lighten the tense atmosphere."

"Thanks, but no thanks," the high schooler replied, shaking his head with a deep sigh. "I think I’ve figured it out. I’ve already died—this is my second life. I need to complete missions on this mysterious train, traveling through different movie worlds. If I complete the tasks, I can earn time currency, return to the real world, and keep living my life, or use the currency to enhance my abilities..."

"Wait! How do you know all that?" Gao Ning interrupted.

"It's explained in detail at the bottom of the death screen," the student replied.

Gao Ning was shocked. "There’s more at the bottom?"

The high schooler understood immediately, giving Gao Ning a sympathetic look.

Gao Ning turned to Liang Bing, who pointedly turned her entire body away, pretending not to know them.

"So why did you explain things to me before…" Gao Ning suddenly realized, pointing at Liang Bing loudly. "You hadn’t noticed it either!"

Liang Bing remained unmoved, her expression flat, not even blinking, but the tips of her ears turned a subtle shade of red.

The high schooler sighed. "Why do I have such a bad feeling about this? Never mind—since I’m here, I’ll adapt. Let me introduce myself. My name is Dong Huawen, from the Melbourne City of the Australian Colony, Chinese Union. I’m seventeen years old."

"Chinese Union!" the three cried out in unison.

Gao Ning: ((유∀유|||))

Liang Bing: (≖_≖)

Zhou Banshen: (⊙o⊙)?

Dong Huawen hesitated, then shook his head. "So the world backgrounds are different, too. Looks like we’re all from parallel universes. Let’s put that aside for now. Shouldn’t you introduce yourselves? If I’m right, my arrival signals the start of a new mission. If we don’t get familiar and coordinate now, we’ll end up working at cross purposes. That won’t help us succeed! Even if I haven’t tested time currency, the explanations mentioned several uses. Just the ability to stop time makes it priceless. It must be hard to earn, right?"

The three were speechless.

Gao Ning shook his head. "Impressive—are all high schoolers this sharp nowadays? Your deductions are mostly correct. Let me fill in a few details and introduce the three of us."

After giving their names and professions, Gao Ning continued, "The Human-Powered Train space grants supernatural abilities, but you have to complete three missions to get them. Every three missions form a group, with a rest period in between. No matter what world you’re in, the train will always assign rival teams. The enemies are usually dangerous individuals; some are newbies like us, some have survived many missions and possess unique powers."

"So if you encounter anything strange—person, animal, or plant—be careful!"

Dong Huawen listened quietly, nodding from time to time. By the time Gao Ning finished, it was almost time.

Liang Bing glanced at the ceiling—the yellow lights were fading, with only one left.

She waved them forward and led the way back. The others, including the high schooler, followed.

As the isolation door closed and the last yellow light went out, a familiar sound rang in their ears.

"Vreee—vreee—"

The alarm blared, the white indicator light turned red and began to flash, and a tense atmosphere settled over them.

Gao Ning had just helped Dong Huawen onto the sofa when a flash of white light enveloped them; all four vanished instantly.

----

On the front lines of the Versailles battlefield, at a rear combat base, massive military tents stretched across the land, dyeing it green.

The defensive wall stood over five meters tall, embedded with various automated weapon systems. The central radar spun constantly, ever-vigilant for suspicious signals.

Every few minutes, a patrol plane soared overhead, the throbbing of its propellers drowning out the shouts of training soldiers.

Military vehicles, tanks, troops, warplanes, gunfire, the scent of cigarettes, gunpowder, sweat—and, faintly, the aroma of food—mingled together.

All these smells mixed into a single overwhelming impression: this was unmistakably the front line, saturated with firepower and death.

Gao Ning, in a daze, found himself standing in a neat formation.

There were people all around him—six per row, ten rows deep, sixty in total.

Ahead stood a grizzled veteran, a scar slashing across his face, his sergeant’s insignia gleaming. He clasped his hands behind his back, scrutinizing the recruits with a critical eye.

Beside him, a young soldier checked names off a list.

"Sergeant, sixty new replacements for Assault Battalion G Company are all present!"

The old sergeant nodded, his wolfish gaze sweeping over them as he shouted, "Welcome to the front lines of hell, boys. This is hell, the abyss, the edge of death. Three kilometers ahead is the zone where we’re fighting the aliens. The battle’s been deadlocked for a month now, and I won’t lie—we’re at a disadvantage, with heavy casualties.

We’re fighting for all humanity. Keep your faith strong! The front line is a meat grinder. Out there, you’ll find not only glory but death. Cowardice isn’t a survival trait here; only ferocity—wolfish ferocity—will let you tear your enemies apart and win!

Of course, if you admit you’re too scared, that you don’t have the guts and should just tremble in your pants, we’ll send you back. But remember: this is your only chance to quit. After this, you’ll go through two weeks of assault training, then get equipped with exoskeleton combat armor and sent straight to battle!

Out there awaits only death and glory! Anyone want to back out?"

Gao Ning raised his hand, trembling. "Um, sir, may I...?"