Apocalypse Star House Hoarding

Chapter 226

The lighting in the train compartment was dim, and a chilling sensation crept up Yu Xi’s spine.

For her, having traveled through multiple apocalyptic worlds, faced all kinds of missions, and confronted countless dangers, Xing Min and the system had always been her last resort.

It wasn’t that she overly relied on them—after all, in previous worlds, Xing Min only existed as an invisible system voice and couldn’t directly help her.

But his presence had become a psychological anchor, much like someone who, after a long and exhausting day at work, finds comfort in knowing that their family will always be waiting for them at home.

She could complain to him, ask him questions when facing difficulties—even if, most of the time, he wouldn’t answer.

There was a vast difference between having someone silently present and not being able to sense their existence at all.

She steadied her emotions and turned her head slightly, peeking through the gap between the two empty seats in front of her to observe the train compartment.

When adults sit upright, their heads typically rise slightly above the seatbacks, making it difficult to see several rows ahead. However, with just a quick glance, Yu Xi could roughly gauge the situation in the carriage.

She was not alone.

There were other passengers seated sporadically throughout the compartment. They weren’t many—just a handful, scattered in different seats. Perhaps because the outside was pitch black, everyone sat in silence. Whether they were asleep or simply choosing not to speak, no sounds came from them.

For now, the surroundings seemed safe. Yu Xi glanced up at the digital display panel in the center of the carriage. It didn’t show a departure announcement or the next station’s name—just a red countdown timer.

00:32 (23)

In the few seconds she had been looking, the numbers changed:

00:32 (19)

It was a timer. A countdown.

Whatever this countdown signified, it meant that from this moment, she had thirty-two minutes.

Thirty-two minutes—enough time to receive her character’s memory and get a grasp of her current situation.

Yu Xi calmed herself and began to access the character’s memories…

Ten seconds passed.

She frowned, shut her eyes, and focused even more intensely.

One minute later, she opened her eyes, her expression grim.

There were no background memories of this world. No memories of the character she was supposed to be. Nothing at all.

Her mind was completely blank.

Yu Xi felt a faint sense of panic.

It had been a long time since she had felt this way—like when she first entered the beginner’s world and saw a tsunami approaching.

But back then, at least she had clarity. She knew her mission, understood what she was supposed to do.

Now, the only information she had about this world was a single phrase: endless train (unknown world invitation).

The endless train likely referred to this very train she was on.

But what about the unknown world invitation?

Was this an entirely unfamiliar world?

Had the invitation been issued by the System Tower, specifically targeting her?

Had the System Tower severed her connection with Xing Min?

Was this entire unknown world a trap?

Not knowing the type of world she was in was something she could figure out gradually. But without knowing her mission, how was she supposed to complete it and leave?

Her biggest fear was that this was a time-limited mission, and by the time she figured out what was happening, she might have already failed.

Her thoughts raced, but she forced herself to remain calm, recalling the structure of her past eight mission worlds.

It shouldn’t be like this.

The System Tower could influence world types, meaning that when Xing Min attempted to link her to a mission world, the System Tower could forcibly swap in a different one. After that, it could use its own rules to deploy pursuers against her.

Xing Min had once told her that the System Tower couldn’t interfere with the finer details of a mission world. It had to follow certain rules.

For example, her missions were always generated only after Xing Min had successfully connected her to a world. They were almost always within his control.

If the System Tower could manipulate her missions or erase world memories, why would it go to such lengths to send pursuers after her? Why push her into increasingly dangerous worlds instead of just doing something like this from the start?

Wouldn’t it have been far simpler to tamper with the system like it had now?

So there had to be something else going on. Something she didn’t yet understand.

She suspected it had more to do with this world itself.

With that thought in mind, Yu Xi began checking her body and belongings.

She was dressed in casual jeans and sneakers, wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt under a long black cardigan. Beside her was a backpack. She opened it and found a metal train ticket and a smartphone inside.

The phone looked like an ordinary modern smartphone.

The train ticket was metallic silver, missing the usual details of a standard ticket. It only listed the departure time and station.

Departure time: 3:00.

Previous station: Lanmo City

Next stop: Wu Kong City

The information was just as sparse as before. Aside from that, her backpack didn’t contain a wallet or any form of identification.

After unlocking the phone with facial recognition, the screen displayed a bright red countdown timer, identical to the one on the train’s digital display. She attempted to exit the countdown interface but failed.

She assumed that both the phone and the ticket were important and tried to discreetly store them in her spatial inventory.

However, in the next second, she froze.

The space she had previously expanded to 1,314 cubic meters had shrunk drastically.

She focused on sensing its dimensions—it was now only about one-tenth of its former size. The once-abundant half-filled inventory had disappeared, leaving only a handful of items in the remaining 100 cubic meters.

High-temperature perfume (full x2)Disguise lipstick (1)Air Hair hairdryer (full x1)Healing foundation (full x1)Sunscreen spray (full x2)A box of metal ice (100 bottles)A box of nutrient solution (100 vials)A Tang swordShe counted carefully. If the unopened boxes of metal ice and nutrient solution were considered individual items, then the space contained exactly ten objects.

In addition, she noticed a small patch of blackened ash on the exterior of the metal ice box. The box itself was dark-colored, so the ash wasn’t obvious. But considering that these supplies had been stored in her space all along, how could they have been contaminated with ash?

Now wasn’t the time to dwell on the size of her inventory or the number of supplies. Yu Xi quickly refocused, debating whether to get up and investigate the carriage.

Before she could act, the sensor-activated doors leading to the next carriage suddenly slid open.

A man in his forties hurried in from the previous car. His expression was a mix of irritation and anxiety, but beneath it all, there was unmistakable fear.

“What the hell is going on?! What is this?! Why is my phone like this?! What do these numbers mean?!” he exclaimed, his eyes sweeping the compartment before landing on Yu Xi. The panic in his voice was evident.

Seeing Yu Xi sitting silently, his agitation grew.

“Say something! Why aren’t you talking?! Are you all playing some kind of sick prank to scare me?!”

He took a few steps forward, turning to question the others.

Perhaps due to his outburst, the originally silent passengers in the carriage began to stir.

Some reacted just like him—looking around in confusion, gasping in shock, and standing up in a panic, demanding to know where they were and why this was happening.

Others, upon recalling their last conscious moments, grew even more alarmed when they realized they had no memory of ever boarding this train.

Of course, some passengers remained completely still. They neither spoke nor moved—just opened their eyes and calmly observed the frantic ones, as if memorizing their faces.

Yu Xi took advantage of everyone’s distraction to glance around.

There were twelve people in this carriage—seven men and five women—of varying ages. Based on their clothing and demeanor, they could roughly be categorized into two groups.

The first group remained calm and composed. Most wore practical, athletic-style clothing, and a few even had professional-grade waterproof and insulated outdoor jackets.

The second group, including herself, was dressed in everyday attire. Some were even wearing long skirts and high heels, completely unprepared and utterly bewildered.

If she had to describe it, the difference between the two groups was akin to veterans versus newcomers.

As she was about to look away, she noticed someone staring at her.

She immediately shifted her gaze to meet the observer.

The man was seated in the third row on the right, by the window. He appeared to be in his early thirties, with strikingly refined features and a gaze that was cold and reserved. He was clearly part of the first group—the experienced ones.

He wore a black baseball cap and, upon noticing her looking back, immediately lowered the brim, breaking eye contact.

Meanwhile, in the aisle, someone finally lost patience with the incessant questioning.

A young woman with delicate features stood up. Without saying a word, her lips pressed into a firm line, she expressionlessly reached out and knocked out the two loudest people in the carriage.

The calm onlookers—presumably the veterans—clicked their tongues in amusement.

“She’s ruthless.”

Knocking someone unconscious wasn’t particularly brutal. What was truly ruthless was doing it right before the next stop, causing them to miss any important information or crucial departure timing. Their fate would be far worse than simply getting knocked out.

Some of the remaining newcomers quickly realized something was wrong and fell silent, returning to their seats. Others, however, were furious, shouting that they wanted to find the train staff and have the girl arrested for assault.

Yu Xi didn’t speak.

Suddenly, she felt her phone—still in her hands since she hadn’t put it into her spatial inventory—vibrate.

She glanced down.

The countdown now displayed ten minutes remaining.

Below the timer, a new string of cryptic numbers appeared:

(321456987, 258)

Please select the correct train door for departure.

What… was this?

A sharp burst of music suddenly blared from the train’s speakers.

Then, an eerily cheerful laugh rang out, like the chiming of silver bells.

But inside this dimly lit, eerily silent train, with nothing but darkness beyond the windows, such joyous laughter felt profoundly unsettling.

After the laughter faded, an electronic voice spoke from the speakers.

“Next stop: Wu Kong City. Stop duration: 10 minutes.”

“Passengers who received an exit notification, please disembark through the correct train door.”

“Reminder: Do not disembark at someone else’s platform. Do not exit through the wrong door.”

“What the hell is this?!”

The man who had entered from the previous carriage was now sitting in the second row on the right side, glaring at his phone in bewilderment.

No one answered him.

The previously silent individuals all checked their phones.

Some remained seated, unmoving.

Others stood up, stretching their limbs and checking their backpacks as if preparing to get off.

A few reacted even faster. After staring at their screens for a moment, their eyes gleamed with understanding—they had deciphered the meaning behind the cryptic numbers. Without hesitation, they got up and made their way toward the train doors.

The train was still moving.

The countdown showed nine minutes remaining.

Yu Xi also stood up.

She had received an exit prompt, meaning she had to get off at this stop.

Her instincts told her that ignoring the electronic voice’s instructions would be a grave mistake.

And in the next nine minutes, she needed to decipher the strange sequence of numbers.

One of the key points in the electronic voice prompt was: do not exit through the wrong train door.

Yu Xi scanned the carriage. Each train car had four doors—two on the left and two on the right, located at the front and back. On a normal train, only one door would open per stop, but this was clearly not an ordinary train.

At the front of the car, a sign displayed the carriage number. She was in car number 5.

She glanced at the numbers on her phone again, deep in thought. She had a rough idea of their meaning, but she needed to verify it first.

Looking around, she noted that among those preparing to disembark, there were seven veterans—including the man who had briefly looked her way earlier—and two newcomers, one of whom was the forty-something man who had entered from the previous carriage.

As for the two people who had been knocked unconscious earlier, they remained out cold, their phones still unseen—so it was impossible to determine if they had received any instructions.

Not every veteran had cracked the numerical puzzle yet. Some were swearing in frustration, clearly impatient with anything requiring logical thinking. Others had already made their way to the doors, quietly waiting for the stop.

After a quick scan of the scene, Yu Xi walked toward the middle-aged man who had entered from car number 4.

He was glaring at his phone, grumbling under his breath. As she approached, he didn’t seem on guard at all. She took a quick glance and saw that his phone displayed an unusually long sequence of numbers:

(1456258, 123456789369)

“You came from car number 4, right?” she asked softly.

The man shot her an irritated glare. “No shit! You saw me come in, didn’t you?!”

That confirmed Yu Xi’s hypothesis.

“Then your exit door isn’t here,” she said lightly. “This is car number 5.”

She tapped the first sequence of numbers on his screen with her finger as a subtle hint.

That was all she said. She didn’t want to draw unnecessary trouble to herself in an unclear situation. Since the man had entered from car number 4, her comment wouldn’t seem too suspicious.

But he only glanced at her again, failing to understand. “What do you know, little girl?”

Little girl?

Yu Xi turned to look at her reflection in the train window. The dim lighting made it difficult to see clearly, but she could still make out her face.

It was indeed a youthful appearance—yet unfamiliar. Unlike before, when even age changes had still left her recognizable, this wasn’t quite her face.

It was strikingly beautiful—black hair, red lips, a delicate nose.

Then, suddenly, her reflection shifted.

For a brief instant, a pale face flashed across the window outside the train.

Yu Xi froze.

That face had appeared and disappeared in a fraction of a second. But the train was moving at high speed. How could someone have been standing so close, pressed against the window?

And if she hadn’t been mistaken, that pale face had been smiling.

**

When the countdown reached one minute, the train began to slow. The electronic voice played another announcement, repeating the same instructions as before.

By this time, the seven experienced individuals seemed to have deciphered their phone numbers and had positioned themselves at different doors. Yu Xi also passed through the automatic door and arrived at the front left exit of car number 5.

Beside the train door, a label indicated “1,” marking this as exit 1 of car number 5.

(321456987, 258)

Using a simple numeric grid, she quickly deduced the correct exit: 5,1.

Comparing it with the number from the man in car number 4 (1456258), she confirmed her answer.

At exit 1 of car number 5, there were two other people waiting: the sharp-featured man in his thirties and the young girl with a seemingly innocent face who had knocked two people unconscious earlier.

The train was approaching the station, its speed dropping further. The darkness outside the window suddenly gave way to dim lighting—the glow of the station platform.

Yu Xi peered outside and saw that it was a small station with only a single track. Two platforms flanked the train, positioned so that passengers from either side could disembark.

On the platform, a number of passengers were waiting to board. However, these people were eerily still, standing motionless as though frozen.

As the train rolled in, their faces gradually became visible through the window, revealing an unsettling truth.

They were all staring—silent, motionless, deathly pale. Their eyes remained wide open, unblinking, fixated on the arriving train and its passengers. Their lips were stretched into eerie, identical grins. Every single one of them had the exact same smile.

The train came to a full stop, and the doors slid open. At the same time, the numbers on Yu Xi’s phone screen reset to a ten-minute countdown—the train’s stop duration.

The two people ahead of her stepped off the train, swiftly passing through the unmoving, grinning passengers and entering the station’s exit hall.

Yu Xi slipped her phone into her coat pocket, where she discreetly retrieved the high-temperature perfume from her storage. Then, she stepped off the train.

She walked past several of the grinning figures without any issues. Exhaling in relief, she was about to continue toward the exit hall when a horrifying scream suddenly rang out from a short distance away.

Turning back, she saw the cause.

On the platform outside another train car, the grinning passengers had surrounded someone who had just stepped off. They moved in an unsettling manner—crouching on all fours like primates, hopping around him in an almost playful manner, seemingly amused by his panic.

One among them jumped the highest, slamming into him and knocking him down. As he lay helpless on the ground, the attacker grinned wider—so wide that its mouth split apart, stretching to its ears.

Then, without hesitation, the grinning figures pounced and tore into him.

Blood burst forth in a gruesome display.