Infinite Train
Chapter 680: Night End
Wen Jianyan: “Do you know how to get to Level B7 without taking the elevator?”
No. 8 remained expressionless: “……”
Looking at the shameless human not far away, he turned around and walked away without saying a word.
“Hey, hey, hey!!” Wen Jianyan hurriedly stepped forward to catch up with him, not showing the slightest bit of the embarrassment of being backed into a corner just moments ago. “Don’t go!”
“Get out of the way!” No. 8 said angrily.
Don’t think he would be led by the nose again this time!
“Right now, besides me, can you find a second like-minded helper? Strictly speaking, helping me is helping yourself.”
Wen Jianyan not only didn’t yield, but even stuck closer to him, blinking at No. 8:
“What’s more, if I’m guessing right, the current situation on the cruise ship must be quite complicated, isn’t it?”
No. 8 paused his steps and turned his head to look over.
“One ship, two acting captains,” Wen Jianyan narrowed his eyes and said unhurriedly. “I imagine, with Dan Zhu’s personality, she wouldn’t be willing to share her captain’s seat with anyone else.”
What naturally followed must be contention and division.
“In this struggle, Dan Zhu obviously holds the absolute advantage.”
As one of Nightmare’s top three anchors, Dan Zhu’s strength was beyond doubt.
Based on what Wen Jianyan had seen and heard since boarding the ship, the actual control over the vast majority of the cruise ship’s areas must have already fallen into her hands.
“However,” Wen Jianyan said, revealing a thoughtful expression, “her area of movement seems to be highly restricted.”
If Dan Zhu’s movements were completely unrestricted, then with her personality and methods, she wouldn’t have chosen the roundabout, compromising, and arguably even mild methods she had used before.
But if she herself was subjected to some kind of restriction, then everything made perfect sense.
“The current situation on the cruise ship is less of a peace… and more of a stalemate,”
As he spoke, Wen Jianyan turned his head to look at No. 8. His gaze flickered slowly and calmly, like a bottomless lake. He smiled slightly and said at a leisurely pace:
“That is why you need me.”
No. 8 needed him, not just because Wen Jianyan had made an unfulfilled promise last time, but even more so because, other than him, there was no second person who could break this deadlock.
In this endgame chess match, he was the only living piece.
Indispensable and crucially important.
“…”
No. 8 stared at Wen Jianyan without saying a word, his expression fluctuating.
Even though it wasn’t his first time dealing with this human, he still hadn’t expected… that the other party could actually deduce such complex and vast information in such a short time using so few clues.
Wen Jianyan looked at him with a beaming smile, changing the subject:
“Besides, if you act together with me, you can supervise whether I’m properly fulfilling our agreement, so as to avoid the kind of unexpected situation that happened last time… Think about it, doesn’t that make sense?”
—It did indeed make sense.
No. 8 seemed to be warring with himself internally.
Wen Jianyan waited for him patiently.
After a long silence, No. 8 finally spoke, his tone extremely reluctant.
“……Follow me.”
This wasn’t called being led by the nose; this was clearly strategic cooperation!!
Outside the private room, a strong, rotting floral scent filled the air. No. 8 walked in front, leading Wen Jianyan across the edge of the casino.
Those gambling tables made of human bodies and flesh remained motionless. Their expressionless faces were dull and skewed, but they didn’t react at all to their appearance.
“You disembarked and left this place, but for ‘us’ who remained on the ship, everything was far from over.”
No. 8 said as he walked.
“Among the chaos, the first to take action was the Tarot Reader.”
Wen Jianyan’s eyes flickered as he looked at No. 8.
Indeed. According to his memories from last time, when Su Cheng had escorted them to the elevator entrance, Dan Zhu was still subjected to some kind of movement restriction.
“He reacted the fastest and acted the quickest. Within an hour after the ship stopped collapsing, he accurately, steadily, and ruthlessly took control of the vast majority of the cruise ship’s areas.”
No. 8 paused.
“But soon after, Lady Dan Zhu awakened.”
Hearing this, Wen Jianyan’s heart sank.
No. 8 didn’t stop his steps, leading Wen Jianyan deeper into the floor as he continued speaking.
“The Tarot Reader was beaten back at every turn, completely without any means of resistance.”
Dan Zhu’s methods were fierce. She began to expand with her unstoppable strength. Even though the Tarot Reader had once seized the initiative, the areas he controlled still inevitably fell one after another to the eerie fragrance.
“The situation reversed, with no suspense at all.”
“His forces were completely divided, scattered, and annexed. Although some remnants still exist now, they are extremely few—like a mere drop in the bucket. They are just sparsely distributed in places Lady Dan Zhu temporarily cannot reach, barely surviving on their last breath.”
“But there is one thing.”
No. 8’s footsteps paused.
“The Tarot Reader managed to control the real Captain’s Quarters.”
Even though his forces had been swallowed up and encroached upon, he still relied on his first-mover advantage to firmly grasp the core chokepoint.
“This is exactly why Lady Dan Zhu’s range of movement is so greatly restricted.”
No matter how powerful she was, she still could not go against the rules of the cruise ship itself.
“Then Su Cheng…” Wen Jianyan paused and corrected himself. “Then where is the Tarot Reader now?”
“I don’t know.”
No. 8 turned his head to glance at Wen Jianyan and replied.
“Nobody knows.”
The advantage of being the Tarot Reader lay exactly in this. His divination talent allowed him to vanish just in time before Dan Zhu’s encirclement arrived, elusive like a ghost, yet impossible to eradicate like a stubborn disease.
“But if I had to guess, he should be located somewhere between Level B8 and B18.” No. 8 shrugged. “After all, everywhere else has already been strictly controlled by Lady Dan Zhu, leaving only the largest accommodation area where he can barely find shelter.”
Su Cheng was powerless to overturn Dan Zhu’s crushing victory, and Dan Zhu was equally unable to catch the elusive prophet.
Because of this, both sides had fallen into a brief and fragile peace.
Exactly as Wen Jianyan had guessed earlier—a “stalemate.”
Wen Jianyan raised his eyes: “Then… what about the other party?”
“What?” No. 8 looked at him in confusion, seemingly not understanding the meaning of his words.
“A non-human.” Wen Jianyan took a deep breath, suppressing his irregular, urgent heartbeat. “A… God.”
“He was the one who stopped the cruise ship from sinking.”
“Do you know where he went?”
“Sorry,” No. 8 shook his head. “I have absolutely no idea about that.”
After saying this, No. 8 stopped walking. He raised a hand and stroked the wall beside him. It was unknown what he did, but the next second, a pitch-black doorway appeared before the two of them.
He turned his head to look at Wen Jianyan:
“Alright, we’re here.”
Wen Jianyan froze. Looking down through the doorway, there was a downward staircase inside, the end of which was swallowed into the deepest part of the darkness:
“Wait, this is—”
“You can think of it as…” No. 8 thought for a moment and replied, “the staff passage.”
The elevator sank downward section by section.
Hugo stood expressionless in the center of the elevator. The blood-red overhead light spilled down, casting deep shadows beneath his brow bones.
Accompanied by a “ding,” the iron doors slowly opened in front of him.
The elevator operator smiled and turned sideways:
“Level B17 has arrived, please mind your step—”
Before its customary reminder was finished, Hugo had already stepped out of the elevator. The hidden traps within the elevator’s rules didn’t seem to work on him; the ground outside the elevator was solid, firmly supporting his weight.
In front of him was an unfathomably deep red corridor. The cabin doors were tightly shut, and the nameplates above them were hidden in the darkness.
Hugo stopped in front of Cabin A2 and curled his fingers.
But before he could knock, the cabin door in front of him automatically opened, slowly swinging inward to reveal a patch of darkness inside.
Hugo paused, lowered his hand, and walked into the cabin before him.
As soon as he entered, a floral scent so thick it was almost suffocating rushed at his face. Hugo frowned imperceptibly.
“Oh my, our Chief Executioner.”
A finger painted with blood-red nail polish reached out from the darkness without warning, ambiguously brushing past his cheek.
“Long time no see.”
Hugo’s frown deepened. He tilted his head away, his tone carrying a warning: “Dan Zhu.”
“Still so serious,” a soft giggle came from the darkness, drifting from near to far away. “How boring.”
Accompanied by several hissing sounds, eerie scarlet lights lit up around the room, dispersing the thick darkness. Only then did Hugo see clearly that the entire cabin was already overrun with vines. From the floor to the walls, and up to the ceiling, everything was densely covered without a single gap left. Beneath the slowly writhing and growing flowering branches, the corner of a human face could faintly be seen—livid, lifeless skin and bizarrely bulging eyeballs. Clearly, it had already become nourishment for the branches.
Hugo looked toward the center of the room.
Reclining on the couch was a slender figure, unmistakably Dan Zhu herself.
But… she looked vastly different from how he remembered her.
The writhing patterns of floral branches crawled across the woman’s snow-white skin, spreading from her left leg to her right cheek. A blooming blood-red flower had replaced her eyeball, growing out from the depths of her eye socket—half bizarrely twisted, half astonishingly beautiful.
Hugo frowned, his tone flat and straightforward: “You’ve overused your Innate Talent.”
“Yes, I have.”
Dan Zhu raised a hand to cover her lips and giggled, seemingly indifferent to this.
She rested her chin on her plump half-arm. Her single, smoky-misty eye gazed tenderly at Hugo not far away, while her fingers traced the bizarrely twisted other half of her face:
“Well? Am I beautiful?”
Hugo turned a deaf ear to Dan Zhu’s question:
“What happened?”
To other anchors, overusing their Innate Talent was fatal.
However, for the few of them, the situation was entirely different. As long as they continued to serve Nightmare, Nightmare would back them up, using various methods to counteract the side effects of alienation. This bound them tightly together, ultimately forming a symbiotic and mutually beneficial relationship.
Dan Zhu curled her lips in boredom.
She changed her posture and said lazily:
“Nightmare isn’t on this ship, haven’t you noticed?”
Hugo had indeed noticed this point.
Aside from the brief moment he had re-established contact with Nightmare right after boarding, as he ventured deeper into the cruise ship, this connection began to rapidly weaken. By now, it had been almost completely blocked.
Dan Zhu chuckled softly, playing with her fingers:
“On this ship, aside from us… there is also a third party.”
A third party…?
Hugo was taken aback.
The reason this place had become like this was inextricably linked to that third party.
If the instance was closed, there would still be a chance to restart everything. But it had been precisely fixed at the very second right before its collapse. That was why the cruise ship had fallen into such a stalemate.
Not only did that “third party” stop the ship from sinking, but He also severed all connections between Nightmare and the cruise ship. Kicking Nightmare out of its own base like this—even Dan Zhu couldn’t figure out how He had managed to do it.
Dan Zhu’s eyes darkened as she sneered:
“A pathetic God who has lost everything, has been carved up beyond recognition, and was abandoned by all His believers, yet inexplicably stands on the side of humans… How laughable.”
“But thanks to this guy… if it weren’t for Him, I’m afraid I still wouldn’t have figured out what exactly this ‘Captain’ position entails.”
Dan Zhu pulled up the corners of her mouth, revealing a beautiful yet gloomy smile.
The captain’s power was no different from what she had imagined.
But the obligations that came with it were far more than she was willing to pay.
Although Dan Zhu was full of arrogant ambition, that didn’t mean she wanted to become a soulless marionette.
Speaking of this, she raised her eyes to look at Hugo, squinting dangerously, and gnashed her teeth viciously:
“To be honest, if it weren’t for you just now, I might have been able to solve all my problems in one go.”
Hugo: “…”
“However, what’s done is done; it’s too late to say anything now.”
Dan Zhu smiled and stroked her long hair, which was as soft as a flower branch. Her smoky, bewitching eyes looked up at Hugo:
“So, do you want to cooperate with me?”
Hugo stared fixedly at Dan Zhu’s face, half-beauty and half-evil spirit, and asked, “What kind of cooperation?”
“I want Pinocchio.”
Dan Zhu got straight to the point.
Only with Pinocchio would she have the leverage to continually negotiate with Nightmare. Yes, she wanted to become the Captain, but equally, she didn’t want to become a second “Zhang Yunsheng”—reduced to a puppet without personal will, surviving as a brain in a vat.
“…”
Hugo stared expressionlessly at Dan Zhu not far away, his gaze as cold as a sharp knife:
“He is my target.”
“I know.” She giggled aloud. “Are you really planning to serve Nightmare for the rest of your life like this?”
Dan Zhu waved her hand disdainfully. “Go outside and take a look at that guy Gentleman’s room… That’s what you get for being Nightmare’s dog.”
Hugo said nothing, coldly looking at her. His sharply defined profile was plated with a layer of red light.
“I know what your contract with Nightmare is, and I know what you want to achieve… But, rather than trusting Nightmare to keep its promise, it’s better to use Pinocchio as our bargaining chip,” Dan Zhu propped up her chin, smiling radiantly. “How about it? Interested?”
Meanwhile, on one of the basement levels of the cruise ship.
In the darkness, the silhouette of a human could faintly be seen. He sat motionless on the ground with his knees drawn up, as silent as a statue.
On the ground in front of him lay several Tarot cards facing up.
The faces of the cards were chaotic, covered in bizarre lines that made it completely impossible to decipher their meanings.
Suddenly, the image on one of the Tarot cards changed.
The twisted lines spiraled, transforming into a rising morning sun.
The figure suddenly jolted violently.
He raised his head, looking up into the air in astonishment.
The card reading—which had been filled with death and darkness, unchanging in every single divination—had been altered for the first time.
The Wheel of Fortune slowly turned.
Stars appeared in the chaotic night sky.
The dark night was coming to an end.
Dawn was breaking.
