Loneliness was a constant companion in the wasteland.

Even with so many people aboard, they rarely saw another train. Theirs was like a lone vessel adrift on a vast, empty ocean, with no one knowing what the next moment would bring, or if they would even live to see tomorrow's sun.

When dawn broke, the slaves in carriages #4 and #5 began to stir. The train was already speeding across the plains. They had no idea of their destination, only that their routine was simple: if there was ore, they worked; if not, they stayed in their carriages.

Finally, the train ground to a halt. As the slaves disembarked, they found themselves back at the familiar mine from the day before.

The zombie horde was gone.

They were back again.

A middle-aged man, who had lived comfortably before the apocalypse, gazed at the familiar mine entrance. He tucked the cigarette he'd been fiddling with back into his pocket and clapped a young man on the shoulder with a smile. "Let's go. Grab your pickaxe, time to get to work."

He and the young man had gotten along well over the past few days and had become familiar with each other.

"You got it," the young man replied cheerfully. He was happy to follow the older man, listening to his stories of a glorious past he'd never known.

Before the apocalypse, the world had a label for him: "small-town kid."

He'd never liked it. He tried to build a following online, hoping for a new identity. The label did change—to "societal misfit."

Suddenly, "small-town kid" didn't sound so bad.

Still, he'd always been a bit resentful about it. Maybe someone had to be the outcast. And maybe, just maybe, he fit the mold too well.

As a new day began, with the train parked once more at the same mine, the cycle of digging started anew. The guards began their daily patrols around the train, stretching their legs.

Inside the engine car, Chen Mang finished his breakfast and sat at the control console. His only form of entertainment was lurking in the "Train Radio" channel, silently observing the chats between other captains. For now, it was all he had.

The women on his train didn't exactly meet his standards, and he wasn't desperate enough to lower them.

He had, however, received a private message late last night from the "Bloodthirsty Bull Train." The captain said he'd run into a few dozen Cannibal Spiders, killed them, and harvested a good amount of spider silk. He could offer Chen Mang a larger trade in the future.

Good, Chen Mang thought.

He glanced out the window at the patrolling guards and the slaves already heading into the mine. Everything was progressing smoothly, moving in the right direction.

Elsewhere in the wasteland…

Aboard the "Techno King Train," a man with dwarfism sat at his control console, boredly scrolling through the Train Radio. He hadn't been near Taiping City since being driven out by a Level 3 Cannibal Spider several days ago. He'd found a new mine and had been excavating there ever since.

Just a moment ago, however, something caught his eye.

A captain in the chat mentioned he had a 1.8-meter-tall female slave and was looking for an interested party to trade with at the next gathering. The dwarf, who had no plans to attend, suddenly felt a flicker of interest.

"Five-foot-eleven…" he muttered to himself. He was born this way, his height far below average. Before the apocalypse, he'd made a living as an NPC in a "Little People Kingdom" theme park, where he and others like him were put on display for tourists.

Perhaps it was a psychological quirk common among those with disabilities, but he was utterly obsessed with tall women. Before the world ended, he would never have dared to entertain such fantasies. But last month, he'd luckily acquired a Train Token and, through a few strokes of good fortune, now commanded a reasonably powerful train.

With power in his hands, desires he'd never dared to acknowledge began to sprout. He loved tall women. The height difference gave him a profound sense of conquest. So what if you're tall? He'd think. You still have to submit to me.

People always crave what they lack the most.

After a moment of silence, he sent a private message to the captain, arranging to meet and discuss the trade at the gathering. He currently had two women, the taller of whom was only 1.76 meters. She couldn't compare to this one. In high heels, a 1.8-meter woman would be nearly 1.9 meters.

A veritable giantess.

He liked that.

Just then, another message popped up in the main channel. A captain announced that the Level 3 Cannibal Spider in Taiping City was dead. Its corpse had been gnawed clean by a zombie horde, leaving nothing but an empty shell.

There were no pictures—the chat didn't support them—but the captain included the coordinates of the carcass.

"Huh?"

The dwarf entered the coordinates into his console and realized the location was right along the route he'd taken when he fled. What's more, it wasn't far from that Level 1 iron mine.

He remembered seeing a train mining there as he escaped. He'd wanted to warn them to flee, but since it was a Level 1 train, it wouldn't have a Train Radio. He couldn't contact them, so he'd let it go.

At that train's speed, it never could have outrun a Level 3 Cannibal Spider. By now, its crew was probably building trains in hell.

Someone powerful with Level 3 “Vehicle Accessory”  must have been passing by and killed the boss, he reasoned.

But why bother?

Given the spider's size, even a Level 3 heavy machine gun would barely be enough; you'd need at least a Level 3 autocannon. Wasting that much ammunition just to kill one boss? It wasn't worth it. Did they have more copper ore than they knew what to do with?

Sure, the boss drops would be good, but they couldn't possibly outweigh the cost of the resources consumed.

The man shrugged and put it out of his mind. He planned to keep mining here for a few more days before heading to the gathering to sell his recent haul of spider silk, along with the "Spider Leg" blueprint he'd acquired. Someone in the chat last night had been looking to buy silk anyway. He'd contact them later.

He wondered how much they'd be willing to take. Most captains only wanted silk to craft the "Spider Leg," a green-grade component. Upgrading it to its maximum level only required 600 units of Level 1 Fine Spider Silk, and his own Spider Legs were already maxed out.

The Stellar…

Chen Mang had figured that after last night's unexpected events, today would be uneventful. It was like getting your phone stolen—you assume lightning won’t strike twice, at least not so soon. Surely, something that disastrous wouldn’t happen again right away.

But—

As midday approached, his radar lit up with dozens of red dots slowly closing in. Grabbing his binoculars, he looked out the window. In the distance, a group of twenty to thirty ragged survivors were helping each other stumble across the wasteland, heading directly for his train.

Upon spotting his parked train, their faces lit up with an excitement that was impossible to hide, and they quickened their pace.

"Hm?"

Chen Mang frowned. The nearest urban ruin was Taiping City, a place that had taken him five hours to reach at full speed. How did these survivors get here?

On foot?

Without running into a single monster?

He didn't have time to ponder these questions. All he knew was that a fresh batch of slaves had just delivered themselves to his doorstep. First, he had to secure them. He immediately picked up the intercom.

"Biao Zi, intercept that group."

"Search them from head to toe. Disarm them."

"Execute any who resist on the spot."