Apocalypse Star House Hoarding

Chapter 313

The glass observation carriage was silent, the door automatically closing behind Leng Mian.

In the stillness, Yu Xi’s trembling voice broke through. “Is… is it really you, Leng Mian?”

The other person spoke, her voice gentle, tinged with a hint of helpless laughter. “Has it been so long that you’ve forgotten what I look like?”

“It’s really you? How did you find me?” Yu Xi looked completely shaken, taking two steps forward before abruptly stepping back again. “Wait, this is the mission world! How did you get in here? It’s dangerous!”

“Don’t worry, I know this place is dangerous. Let me get you off the train first!” Leng Mian said, turning to open the door again.

“Off the train?” Yu Xi seemed momentarily hopeful but quickly hesitated. “But I haven’t collected the final Easter Egg Fragment yet.”

“Brilliance in the darkness, right?” Leng Mian turned back to her, seeing the surprise on Yu Xi’s face, and smiled again. “I came to help you get the last Easter Egg Fragment. There’s not much time—the countdown is just a distraction… I’ll explain everything once we’re safe!”

“Alright!” Yu Xi agreed without hesitation.

The train door was unlocked, and Leng Mian turned back once more, extending a hand to her. “Let’s go—”

Before she could finish her sentence, an intense wave of heat suddenly surged toward her. It was a level five extreme heat blast—hot enough to melt steel in an instant.

“Xiao Xi, why—” Leng Mian’s voice carried pain as she cried out from within the flames. She seemed desperate to continue speaking, to express the sorrow and confusion of being attacked.

But the next moment, she realized something.

The person who had just stood not far away, seemingly overwhelmed with emotion, had somehow already moved to another train door, rapidly unlocking it with her wristband.

Yu Xi’s expression was sharp and cold, her gaze filled with vigilance. When Leng Mian spoke again, Yu Xi immediately fired a barrage of air bullets.

The shots exploded against the flames, hitting several parts of Leng Mian’s body, seeming to break the skin in a few places. But that was all.

That level of heat—hot enough to melt steel—hadn’t even blackened her skin, let alone burned through it.

Seeing this, Yu Xi felt a chill creep up her spine, an overwhelming sense of danger rising within her.

It was an oppressive force she had never felt before.

The person standing at the other end of the carriage had seemingly shed some kind of restriction, now existing with a power that did not belong to this world. It was as if an immense, indescribable mountain had materialized in front of her.

Even the carriage itself seemed to react to this mismatch in power. The glass that had been displaying the night sky and the Milky Way flickered erratically, as if short-circuiting. The once-clear scenery blinked in and out, as though the very train rejected the presence of such an anomaly.

“Oh my,” the figure said, looking at Yu Xi’s guarded stance, her cold, wary eyes. The pain and sadness in her voice vanished entirely.

She tilted her head slightly, and the train door Yu Xi had just unlocked automatically shut again. A faint clicking sound signaled the lock engaging, sealing the carriage once more.

On Yu Xi’s end, no matter what carriage number she entered or how many times she scanned her wristband, the door remained motionless.

It was clear—the door had been tampered with. She was trapped.

Yu Xi let out a quiet sigh and stopped her attempts. There was no point wasting effort on something that wouldn’t work.

“You figured it out, didn’t you?” The voice carried a hint of exasperation, though there was no concern at all over Yu Xi’s attacks or escape attempts. She spoke as though she was completely confident that all of Yu Xi’s actions were meaningless. “How did you know?”

“Your acting is terrible. Only an idiot wouldn’t notice,” Yu Xi replied expressionlessly.

Even without considering the absurd timing of her appearance, the youthful face that hadn’t aged a day, or the overly dramatic teary-eyed yet determined smile—it was all ridiculous.

Logically speaking, if Leng Mian had such extraordinary abilities, enough to drop straight onto the Golden Train, know her Easter Egg Fragment clue, and even bypass the mission entirely to take her off the train, then why hadn’t she appeared earlier?

Why had she never helped when Yu Xi had been in life-threatening danger before?

The truth was, whether in the past or now, Leng Mian’s assistance had always been indirect, full of intricate arrangements and careful messages. Yu Xi and her companions had struggled and fought their way forward, now standing at the very brink of escaping the Endless Train world.

And at this crucial moment, this so-called Leng Mian suddenly appeared?

Was she really here to help, or to stop her?

Xi Yuan had once told her that Leng Mian had said herself—she could never enter the mission world, because the moment she did, the System Tower would immediately detect her presence.

That was also why Yu Xi had abruptly cut off the video call with Xi Yuan.

He understood this fact even more clearly than she did. If he had been able to say anything, he would have tried to warn her outright. To avoid alarming this imposter, she had deliberately ended the call.

She trusted Xi Yuan would not have lied to her.

So no matter what stood before her now—this was not Leng Mian.

And if it was fake, then it was an enemy.

Thinking further, there was still one remaining operative from the System Tower’s faction aboard the Golden Train.

Even the abrupt cut-off of the video call had been a clue. Xi Yuan would undoubtedly try to call her back. When he found her device offline, he would alert the others, and they would head straight for her location as soon as possible.

“Meng Sha, you really don’t understand Leng Mian at all,” Yu Xi said calmly, exposing her opponent’s true identity.

It was just a plain, ordinary sentence, yet for some reason, the expression of the person standing on the other side of the carriage suddenly darkened.

She still wore Leng Mian’s youthful student-like face, but now her expression had turned eerily sinister.

Yu Xi even detected something in her eyes—hatred.

Hatred?

What, was she jealous of Leng Mian even though they were both operatives?

“Don’t act like you know her so well!” The other party’s gaze was ice-cold as she glared at Yu Xi. “How long have you even spent with her? It was just a brief encounter in a single mission world! How many years could that have been? Don’t delude yourself into thinking you understand her! For the past few centuries, I’m the one who has been by her side!”

Yu Xi: …??

**

Yu Xi had expected her opponent to say something about missions or the System Tower. But this… What was she even talking about?

However, there was no time to dwell on it.

She could clearly feel the murderous intent radiating from the other woman.

In all her previous encounters with Meng Sha, she had sensed that, while hostile, Meng Sha had always been holding back, trying to eliminate or trap her through indirect means.

In the end, her goal had always been the same—keeping Yu Xi from leaving the Endless Train world.

But now, Meng Sha had shown up again, and it felt as if some kind of restriction had been lifted. The killing intent she emitted was sharp and unfiltered.

Didn’t that mean Yu Xi had been right? That the Easter Egg Fragment really was in the carriage she had suspected?

Meng Sha must have realized that if Yu Xi found it, she would finally escape from the Endless Train world. That was why she had to appear now—to stop her.

Yu Xi heightened all her senses, fully on guard for the opponent’s next move.

She was weaker in raw power, but she guessed Meng Sha wouldn’t be able to sustain this kind of overwhelming strength for long. The glass walls of the carriage, which had been flickering on and off, were now crackling with streams of electrical arcs, all surging toward “Leng Mian.”

The currents buzzed loudly, yet before they could reach her, a layer of gray light enveloped her body, blocking them entirely.

Unlike before, Meng Sha was no longer taking these attacks head-on. Clearly, these electrical surges were more troublesome to her than Yu Xi’s earlier assaults.

After all, every world had its own set of rules. Right now, the rules of the Endless Train world were rejecting her presence.

If Meng Sha were thinking rationally, she would have attacked immediately. But perhaps Yu Xi’s words had struck a nerve, making her more desperate to argue than to kill.

“…Do you really think you’re special? You’re just a ‘variable’—insignificant, like a speck of dust. You’re not worthy!”

Yu Xi: …

“If I had met her first, she would have done all this for me instead!”

Yu Xi: ???

“You were right—I originally only wanted to trap you. But unfortunately, you refuse to accept your fate and insist on struggling in vain.”

Meng Sha’s killing intent surged as she spoke. She didn’t pull out a weapon—she simply raised her hand, and strands of gray light coiled between her fingers.

The light coalesced into a formation of razor-thin, high-speed rotating blades, spiraling around her palm.

Yu Xi found the attack method eerily familiar.

But compared to Xing Min’s energy blades, Meng Sha’s were far more terrifying.

The whirling edges churned the air, causing violent gusts to ripple through the carriage. Meanwhile, the electrical surges from the train intensified, rising from a dozen to over a hundred streaks, all converging on the gray aura surrounding Meng Sha.

Meng Sha waved her hand, and the spinning blades slashed through part of the train’s electrical current before hurtling toward Yu Xi.

Prepared in advance, Yu Xi activated a crystal bubble—a large, transparent sphere with a reinforced outer layer. It blocked the first wave of blades, but the others followed immediately, slicing through its defenses with a sharp crack.

Yu Xi hadn’t hidden inside the crystal bubble. She knew better than to rely on it to block the full attack.

She had only used it to deflect some of the blades.

At the same time the bubble activated, she leaped upward, grabbing onto the light fixtures at the carriage’s ceiling to evade the rest of the blades.

The spinning blades weren’t just fast—they moved like they had a mind of their own, changing direction and chasing after her.

Yu Xi used everything in the carriage—her bubble shield, the seats, the tables—combined with her speed to dodge most of the attacks.

The missed blades embedded themselves into the walls and furniture before disintegrating into gray light after a few seconds.

Still, a few of them managed to graze her arms, legs, and cheek, leaving shallow wounds.

She ignored them completely. Another wave of attacks was already coming.

This time, there were fewer blades, likely because the train’s electrical surges were counteracting part of Meng Sha’s attacks.

In the midst of dodging, Yu Xi caught a glimpse of Meng Sha’s expression—her face had darkened. She no longer wanted to prolong the fight.

She was aiming for a quick kill.

Yu Xi then heard a series of loud crashes and explosions from outside the train door. Mixed in were the frantic voices of her teammates.

They had arrived long ago but hadn’t been able to break through the carriage’s entrance.

Even worse, Yu Xi couldn’t contact Xing Min at all.

The entire carriage—or perhaps the entire section—had been sealed off from the outside world.

Yu Xi knew that this was the most critical and dangerous moment. Meng Sha would grow impatient and intensify her attacks, while the train itself would increase its resistance to this foreign power.

She didn’t know how much longer she had to hold out, but she was certain that as long as her teammates were still trying, they would not lose this battle.

All of them had been sent here by Leng Mian. She wouldn’t have gathered them in a world where defeat was inevitable. Yu Xi believed in Leng Mian—though the two of them had never truly met face-to-face in these different mission worlds, she trusted her. In doing so, she was also trusting herself.

Across from her, the train’s electrical surges finally pierced through the gray barrier, striking “Leng Mian” directly. Her body was riddled with charred wounds, large and small.

But instead of reinforcing her shield, she poured all her remaining power into the massive, rotating blade forming in her hand.

The blade spun like a saw, stirring the air as it gathered force for a final, devastating strike.

The stronger the attack, the greater the train’s rejection of her. Just as her body wavered and she half-knelt on the ground, preparing to unleash the attack on Yu Xi, the door to the adjacent workroom swung open.

“Leng Mian” flinched in shock, but it was too late—a massive black weapon slashed down at her from behind.

Yu Xi heard the sickening sound of flesh and bone being torn apart.

As the black weapon struck, blood sprayed from “Leng Mian’s” back, yet at the same time, she managed to release her spinning blade. It carved through the carriage, slicing through tables, chairs, and scattered furnishings, hurtling straight toward Yu Xi’s face.

But someone was even faster than the blade.

The tall figure who had suddenly appeared threw a long, sharp black spike, nailing “Leng Mian’s” hands and feet firmly to the ground. Then, in a blink, he reappeared in front of Yu Xi.

Gripping his black weapon tightly, he planted it firmly in front of them. The weapon’s shield activated instantly, enveloping both himself and Yu Xi, blocking the terrifying rotating blade.

The blade clashed with the shield, producing a grating screech as sparks erupted between them.

From a distance, “Leng Mian,” who had been struck down, struggled to lift her head. But as soon as she caught sight of the black weapon, her face twisted in shock and disbelief—it was a massive black scythe.

The ear-piercing sound of metal grinding against metal persisted for a long moment before the spinning blade, unable to penetrate the shield, finally dissipated.

The man holding the black weapon coughed up blood inside the shield but quickly wiped it away, standing tall as he turned to Yu Xi. He reached out, steadying her wounded form.

“Are you okay?” His voice was filled with urgency as his gaze swept over her, checking for injuries.

“I’m fine, just surface wounds.” Yu Xi shook her head. Though she was covered in cuts, they were nothing serious. The one who had taken the most damage was the person lying on the ground—“Leng Mian.”

Yu Xi looked at her for a moment before she couldn’t help but ask, “Luo En?”

This time, there were subtle changes in his appearance. He was even dressed in a train attendant’s uniform, making it clear that he had once again become an NPC of this station.

The man turned to her again, his gaze warm as he softly replied, “Mm.”

That look gave Yu Xi an odd sense of familiarity. Not in a strange way, but in a way that felt… natural.

Her mind was flooded with questions. “Why did you save me? Have you… awakened self-awareness? No, even if you did, that attack just now… you shouldn’t have been able to block it. The shield… are you also a mission operative?”

As Yu Xi voiced her thoughts, the wounded “Leng Mian” suddenly let out a laugh. It was a mocking, bitter sound—both furious and sorrowful.

“Look at you,” she sneered. “You’re so devoted to protecting her, yet she doesn’t even know who you are. How is she worth everything you’re doing for her, Mian Mian?”

At the mention of that name, Yu Xi’s mind snapped to clarity.

She looked at the tall man before her in shock, but his face instantly darkened at the words.

“I’ve told you many times,” he said coldly, “don’t call me that.”

With a fluid motion, he spun his black scythe, slashing through the air. The strike formed a visible blade of energy, controlled with perfect precision—not a single inch of the train was damaged. Instead, it struck “Leng Mian” directly as she attempted to lift herself up.

Her shoulder was split open, fresh blood spraying from the wound. She coughed up a mouthful of blood and collapsed again, yet she still struggled to raise her head, looking up at “Luo En” with a pitiful expression.

“Luo En” frowned, gripping his black scythe even tighter.

He stood firm, planting the scythe in front of him.

Closing his eyes for a moment, a single glimmering star emerged from his forehead, drifting down to the scythe’s blade.

When he opened his eyes again, he spoke softly. “Reveal the truth.”

The scythe absorbed the light, glowing brilliantly as it extended toward “Leng Mian.”

As the light enveloped her, her form flickered and began to shift. Within seconds, her appearance transformed—revealing the true face of Meng Sha.

“Luo En” furrowed his brow. He didn’t stop, keeping the scythe’s power active.

Meng Sha was once again engulfed in light. This time, when the radiance faded, she had vanished.

The figure now half-kneeling in her place was a boy—seventeen or eighteen years old, with strikingly delicate features.

His eyes were shadowed with suppressed emotions, but when he looked at “Luo En,” there was no mistaking the resentment and bitterness within them.

“Mian Mian… it hurts…”

“Shut up,” “Luo En” said, his voice low and ice-cold, completely devoid of the gentleness he had shown Yu Xi. “You disgust me.”

The boy: …

Yu Xi, for some reason, felt immensely satisfied.

She grasped “Luo En’s”—or rather, Leng Mian’s—hand. “He is—”

Could it be what she was thinking?

“Mm,” Leng Mian responded calmly. “He is the System Tower. Also known as System T.”