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墨書 Inktalez
The Iron Dragon crashed through the curtain of rain, forcefully breaking through the barbed wire that sealed the entrance to the Platform. The Wheel clung tightly to the tracks, grinding the foul corpse that lay on the Railway Track into a pulp, leaving behind gruesome streaks of blood as it slowly came to a stop. A thick cloud of White Smoke rolled out from the Cabin, and as the first few carriages opened, more than a dozen gun-toting men of various skin tones jumped down, stealthily moving along the blocked Railway Track. They split into several teams to ascend the left and right Platforms, while others squeezed into the green carriages parked on the Railway Track to conduct searches.
Wu Wentao adjusted his Big Hat once more and rolled up his sleeves, standing by the carriage door gazing at the distant cityscape. Chu Guangxu and Old Tian stood on either side of him; one wore an expression full of excitement, while the other bore a face marked by worry.
"Are we going into the city?" Chu Guangxu rubbed his hands together, exhaling a puff of white steam. The train had been moving for over a month and had rarely stopped; the relentless downpour did nothing to dampen his spirits.
"Let's wait and see," Wu Wentao replied, a deep furrow etched between his brows, his mood mirroring the gloomy weather.
A few minutes later, three search teams exchanged a few words before closing their doors and rushing toward the box where Yuan An was hiding. They looked up at the window, ensuring they could observe the situation outside before feeling secure enough to drop their pants and squat down.
The girl just a layer of cardboard away rolled her eyes, silently praying that this guy wouldn't be constipated; otherwise, he might not die from it but would certainly make her sick. As if in response to her prayer, the Bearded Man summoned all his strength from deep within and let out a series of explosive flatulence sounds, accompanied by a torrent-like release that quickly filled the room with a foul stench.
Yuan An's throat went dry; he nearly gagged. It was worse than being near a corpse.
The Bearded Man seemed to be overwhelmed by his own noxious gas as well; he muttered curses under his breath while pulling out half a cigar from his pocket and lighting it up. He took a deep drag and exhaled thick smoke in an attempt to mask the stench in the air. Yuan An felt his face flush red with embarrassment, marveling at this man who seemed so comfortable inhaling his own fumes. It appeared he intended to treat this unfortunate moment as if it were a vacation.
Yuan An dared not breathe too deeply; her soaked clothes clung uncomfortably to her body, now coated with dust as well. She instinctively tightened her grip on the knife handle in her hand as a bold thought suddenly surged in her mind. Quickly shifting her gaze through a hole, she observed that the Bearded Man had a cigar in his mouth and paper in his hand. His dark Rifle hung around his neck, wedged between his stomach; only a short dagger was tucked into a holster beside his boot, while a walkie-talkie and lighter lay within easy reach on the ground.
Outside, thunder rumbled and lightning flashed as the sky continued to change; it was not yet noon but felt like evening—gray and gloomy, perfect for murder and theft.
Yuan An quickly made up her mind: waiting was pointless. The Bearded Man might not notice her, but she needed fire and weapons. Opportunities were fleeting; decisive action could lead to significant gains while remaining hidden would yield nothing but trouble. Weighing both options, Yuan An's blood began to stir with excitement. Without any hesitation, she suddenly sprang into action, launching herself along with her box toward the squatting Bearded Man, knocking him hard onto the ground.
The torrential rain and rolling thunder outside provided ample cover for their collision; inside, no one noticed what was happening on the Platform. The Bearded Man was enjoying his "sweet time" with his cigar when he unexpectedly found himself with an up-close observer. In panic, he didn't even pull up his pants but rolled aside to reach for the dagger at his feet.
Yuan An had anticipated this move. The disparity in their combat abilities was immense, and he could not allow the Bearded Man to have any weapons at his disposal. Without a second thought, he disregarded the naked man in front of him, who was still dragging himself in filth, gritting his teeth as he lunged forward. Using the advantage of his long legs, he mounted the Bearded Man and swiftly drove the Yingjisha into his throat.
The Yingjisha was known for its sharpness, and the luxurious blade did not diminish its inherent lethality. The two-foot-long blade easily pierced through the Bearded Man's throat, the tip emerging from the back of his neck and pinning him firmly to the concrete floor.
The Bearded Man's face was still etched with shock as his rough hands clutched Yuan An's slender neck. With a firm grip on the hilt, Yuan An twisted and pulled, shredding the throat and tearing out a bloody segment of trachea. The Bearded Man's strength drained away, and his hands slid down Yuan An's shoulders, collapsing limply onto the ground.
With the tension released, Yuan An felt half of his strength dissipate. He wiped the blood splattered on his face and began to search through the Bearded Man's belongings.
He found an unnamed short-barreled rifle, a dagger, a lighter, a walkie-talkie, half a cigar, a flat flask, three magazines, and a family photo. Glancing at the picture, he was somewhat surprised; despite the rugged appearance of the man, there was a sweet-looking wife beside him.
Suddenly, the walkie-talkie on the ground crackled to life. Startled, Yuan An hurriedly gathered up the scattered items. After a moment's thought, he stripped off the Bearded Man's coat and put it on. Peering out of the window to ensure no one on the platform had noticed anything unusual, he quickly dashed through the heavy rain towards a low building. Using both hands and feet, he climbed over the slick iron fence and ran toward the dimly lit waiting hall.
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