Chen Mang let out a sigh, rubbing his temples. He knew he needed to armor the train as soon as possible—it would be a massive safety upgrade. But the "Steel Carriage Armor" accessory required a whopping 1,000 units of iron ore.

He didn't have anywhere near that much.

I need to get back to mining, and fast.

He stepped out of the carriage and summoned a few slaves. He had them install the one undamaged heavy machine gun on the roof of Carriage #2, the warehouse. Once they hauled it up and positioned it, a new panel appeared in front of him.

[Please name your train.]

[Allow the accessory 'Tripod-Mounted Heavy Machine Gun' to be mounted to the roof of the second carriage of your unnamed train?]

【TN: The original term, "sān jiǎo māo," literally "three-legged cat," is an idiom for something amateurish.】

"Confirm."

The heavy machine gun settled into place, fitting so perfectly it looked like it had always been there. It would only detach if he chose to decouple and abandon the carriage.

He had just over 400 rounds for it. For a heavy machine gun, that was barely enough for a single engagement, but it was a powerful deterrent. At the very least, the train—which had looked completely harmless before—now had some bite.

After moving all the scavenged resources onto the train and ordering the slaves into Carriage #4, he was ready to depart.

Just then, the batch of "Dragon Assault Rifles" finished production. He called over the ten men he'd already selected from the slaves and appointed them to the position of "Train Patrol." He handed each man a rifle and three fully loaded magazines.

Chen Mang's gaze swept over the ten ragged enforcers, and his brow furrowed slightly. "By tomorrow morning, I need a captain from among you. Figure it out yourselves. Just make sure there are no casualties that would interfere with your duties."

Next, he summoned Lao Zhu and appointed him Vice-Captain.

Just like that, the seeds of a proper train crew had been planted. It was all rudimentary, of course. His enforcers were the best of a bad bunch, but everything had to start somewhere. Nothing in this world was born perfect; things only approached perfection through gradual development.

With the crew established, he laid down new rules.

All slaves would receive one cup of water and two slices of moldy bread per day.

All patrol members would receive two bottles of water, six steamed buns, and a pack of pickled vegetables per day.

He had no problem creating a class system to maintain his authority in this new world. That was survival. But he also knew there was no point in starving the slaves to the point of collapse. How were they supposed to have the strength to mine? He had enough scavenged food to last for a while, and once he obtained more ore, he could build a food production line.

Afterward, the slaves filed into Carriage #4. Lao Zhu and the new patrol members took up residence in Carriage #3. The supply car wasn't packed to capacity yet, so there was still room for people. For now, they'd have to sit on the floor since he hadn't built any chairs. Lao Zhu, however, was given his bed.

Chen Mang had salvaged a total of seven single beds. He kept two—one for Lao Zhu in Carriage #3 and one for himself in the cockpit. The rest he discarded; there was no room to install them. He preferred staying at the head of the train alone. He could sleep more soundly there, knowing the cockpit's steel door was solid and the reinforced bulletproof glass in the front window would be tough to break through quickly.

Then—

"VROOOM!"

The roar of the engine echoed across the wasteland. The all-black train, its brief respite over, shot forward with churning wheels as it sped toward the horizon.

Its destination: the iron mine.

They were some distance away now. He'd been stuck in the slave car during the escape and couldn't see the route, but a train leaves tracks in the wasteland. All he had to do was follow them back the way they came.

His wheels were still the basic model and weren't particularly fast, but on the relatively flat terrain of the wasteland, they were sufficient.

Inside the cockpit, Chen Mang glanced at Lao Zhu beside him and said with a slight smile, "Tell me how your last captain met his end. Maybe we can learn a lesson or two." He had used one of the scavenged walkie-talkies to call Lao Zhu up from Carriage #3.

"A zombie horde, same as this one," Lao Zhu said, shaking his head with a flicker of lingering fear in his eyes. "Hordes this big aren't common on the Ironridge Wasteland. The one we ran into last time wasn't nearly this massive. Back then, the train was only Level 1, so it wasn't very fast. We fled in a panic and ended up driving straight into a ruined city."

"The debris blocked our path," he continued. "In the chaos, everyone abandoned the train and ran. The horde swarmed in and caught almost everyone. I just ran faster, didn't look back, and ducked into an alley in the ruins. That's the only reason I'm still alive."

"The big hordes are always led by a commander, and for some reason, they usually don't venture deep into city ruins. That's how I managed to survive."

"I see..." Chen Mang's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. It seemed his narrow escape owed something to luck. A zombie capable of commanding a horde had to be above Level 1. If it had noticed him, his Zombie Perception Blocker would have been useless.

But a lone carriage should have stood out in that swarm.

Why didn't it spot me? he wondered. Could the commander have only been Level 1?

He gazed out at the desolate wilderness, lost in thought. His eyes fell on the front of the train. Before leaving, he'd used the "Geocentric Furnace" to devour all the abandoned carriages.

It had taken about fifteen minutes and netted him another 600 units of iron ore. The sight had been spectacular—the front of the engine had opened up like a great, bloody maw, swallowing the wrecks whole while countless internal gears spun furiously, grinding the metal to dust.

"Are there no other settlements in the post-apocalypse?"

"Well, sort of," Lao Zhu said after a pause. "For some reason, a lot of the monsters don't like going deep into the city ruins, so there are still quite a few survivors hiding out in them. Besides that, I heard on the old train radio that there are a few large, established settlements—places with several trains of their own."

"But they're too far away. My old captain never planned on trying to find them."

"Oh?" Chen Mang was puzzled. "It sounds like the city ruins are relatively safe, then. At least, getting food there should be easier than out here on the wasteland. So why did all these survivors end up on a train?"

Lao Zhu was at a loss for words for a moment. He finally mumbled, "...Boss Mang, the slaves were all captured. No one would choose to become a slave."

"Oh." Chen Mang nodded, his face unreadable. So the patrol's duties included not just keeping order but also capturing new slaves. It seemed he still had a lot to learn about being a captain.

Just then, the birthmark on the back of his hand grew warm again. A smile touched Chen Mang's lips. The last of the novice captain missions was complete.

At long last, his "Train Panel" was fully unlocked. He couldn't help but wonder what new functions it would hold. He hoped it would give him a way to get more resources; he was desperate for them.

Something like a daily stipend of 10,000 iron ore would be nice, he mused. That would be enough. I'm a man of simple needs.