Chen Mang turned his head to look at Old Pig, who was rushing over wielding a pick, and casually said, "You want to make a move on me?"
Old Pig was slightly surprised and hurriedly explained in a rushed tone, "How could I, Mang? I’m about to deal with that slave!"
Everyone had thrown away their picks; who would carry such a thing when fleeing for their lives? It’s unknown where Old Pig got his pick from; perhaps the thugs temporarily placed it in the seventh carriage, and Old Pig picked it up.
Chen Mang chuckled lightly and didn’t mind, as he understood naturally that it was just a pre-death tease with Old Pig.
But this guy, he seems to lack a sense of humor.
This guy also has an interesting aspect; everyone is obviously facing inevitable death. In such a situation, there’s hardly any need for clarification; he could go over it when they were down below and chat slowly later.
He had already reloaded a magazine and continued firing relentlessly, hardly needing to aim. As the train’s speed slowed, the nearest zombie was fewer than half a meter away from him.
He could even observe the zombie’s appearance clearly.
No hair, pale all over, veins visible like dark blue marks, pupils pitch black.
The gunfire rang out once more.
After emptying another magazine, Chen Mang took a deep drag from the cigarette at the corner of his mouth, leaned against the train door, quickly reloading bullets, and casually glanced at Old Pig, nonchalantly saying, "Got any last words before dying? Tell me, although we’ve just met not long ago, we’re sort of linked by fate."
Although Old Pig’s face was extremely ugly due to fear, he managed to squeeze out a smile, trying to stay as calm as possible: "I don’t really have any last words. Doomsday has descended for over a year now; I have long anticipated my end. It’s not too hard to accept."
"The only regret is that if I’d known earlier, I would have given you one less cigarette at the start, Mang. I would love a puff before dying."
Chen Mang couldn’t help but laugh, passing the remaining cigarette to Old Pig: "You really only have two, huh? Look, there are nine bullets left; I’ll kill a few more zombies. Later, I’ll leave two bullets so we can die more comfortably."
Old Pig didn’t speak, his eyes only brightened as he took the nearly burnt-out cigarette and took a deep inhalation, his expression gradually relaxing, in the swirling smoke, slowly closing his eyes and smiling as if he was relieved.
Inside the carriage, other slaves were almost all huddled in their corners, faces filled with despair and helplessness as they awaited death.
Chen Mang even saw a few people choosing to run over and sit down on his mat before dying, apparently... wanting to feel what the mat was like before dying. They weren’t fearing him anymore since they were about to die.
The carriage speed decreased to an extremely low speed, expected to coast for a maximum of ten more seconds before coming to a complete stop.
By this point, many zombies had even jumped to the top of the carriage, starting to attack it frantically with their claws.
Chen Mang sighed gently, continuing to shoot into the tide of corpses.
As he had three bullets left, he suddenly felt a birthmark on the back of his left hand heating up. Subconsciously, he glimpsed a milky-white, translucent panel materializing before him.
"Beginner Train Captain Task 3: Kill 10 zombies within three months, completed."
"Elapsed time: less than a day."
"Rewards: ’Rare Train Order’ *1, Handheld Zombie Perception Shield *1."
Looking at the panel before him, Chen Mang merely paused slightly before quickly realizing this was the "Train Captain Panel" he activated last night. It contained three beginner tasks; only by completing these tasks could he unlock other functions of the Train Captain Panel.
But the situation was urgent, and he didn’t recall this matter, as the rewards were unknown. He also didn’t know what rewards killing ten zombies would yield.
"Rare Train Order," this item must be superior to ordinary Train Orders, but at this moment, he didn’t have the luxury to care about it. The tide of corpses had already surrounded his carriage; even if given a train now, he wouldn’t be able to break free.
The wheels would be instantly jammed, with no space to start.
But this Zombie Perception Shield was different; this gadget could save lives!
Feeling a token and an object resembling a walkie-talkie suddenly appearing in his bosom, he promptly took out the walkie-talkie and held it in his hand.
Another panel emerged before him.
"Special Tool": Handheld Zombie Perception Shield.
"Item Effect": After activation, it can block Level 1 zombies’ perception of all creatures within this small area, lasting for an hour and reusable after 24 hours.
There was only one button, green in color.
By now, the zombies were almost charging into the carriage. Without overthinking, Chen Mang quickly pressed the green button on the walkie-talkie.
The zombies outside the carriage suddenly froze in place like headless flies without a target but soon dispersed, rushing toward the front carriages!
Not just their carriage; apparently, all carriages except the engine had been abandoned.
Seeing this, Chen Mang exhaled lightly, a hint of survival after disaster flickering in his eyes.
He was ready to hit the road, yet suddenly survived against all odds?! Could he manage this?!
Though this range didn’t seem small, enough to encompass the entire carriage, it could only block perception for Level 1 zombies. He could only hope there weren’t higher-tier zombies in the tide.
This carriage now resembled a small boat amidst a storm on the sea, jeopardized by the constant threat of capsizing.
And it only lasts an hour; if these zombies don’t leave by then, they’d be in grave danger again.
As long as he endured this tide, aside from possessing the "Rare Train Order," he’d gain nearly a hundred slaves, seemingly kickstarting his fortune!
Chen Mang turned to look at the slaves inside the carriage, their faces filled with fear and confusion, and suddenly grinned.
Fortune and misfortune are indeed intertwined.
He hoped those zombies didn’t eat bread or anything, as once the tide departed, he could scour other carriages for any scattered food resources, maybe even dismantle and equip the heavy machine guns onto his new train.
He clearly remembered that those heavy machine guns weren’t installed on the engine.
Those guys who swung batons at him probably wouldn’t survive, a bit regrettable; it was indeed quite painful.