Chapter 20: Returning to Reality

The scenery outside the train window quickly vanished as the train sped along.

Leaving the platform, darkness enveloped the view outside. Exhausted yet curious, Lu Jinchao wondered where the tracks were laid that allowed the train to reach any destination within just ten minutes.

Unfortunately, the pitch-black night offered no clues.

Leaning back in her seat, Lu Jinchao felt sluggish and unkempt. If she could, she would close her eyes and sleep, but she feared missing her stop.

“If only someone else had survived,” she murmured.

She had many questions about the train but no one to ask. Moreover, according to Jiang Yingzhi, the "D" level was supposedly the lowest rank, and platform missions should be the least dangerous. Yet everyone except herself had been wiped out. Was this normal?

Lu Jinchao couldn’t be sure. From her perspective, being a novice thrown into such a high-level scenario seemed overwhelmingly abnormal.

Perhaps the train missions were inherently so perilous that even the lowest rank could easily mean total annihilation.

“Maybe next time, I could ask others...” she thought.

“No, better if there is no next time at all,” she corrected herself.

Drowsily, the train returned to the underground platform of Yun City.

A familiar announcement sounded:

“Dear passengers, this train has arrived at its station. Please disembark promptly. Wishing you a safe journey. Goodbye!”

Hearing the voice, Lu Jinchao summoned her strength and stood up. As the doors opened, the familiar underground platform of Yun City appeared before her.

“Really... I’m back.”

Though the platform remained deserted, she found it deeply comforting.

The moment she stepped off, the train seemed to sense there would be no more passengers. With a loud clang, the doors shut immediately, without pause, and the train—one that had buried countless lives—vanished into the unknown darkness.

“...”

Lu Jinchao didn’t want to think about the future. She was utterly exhausted. Though her body’s pain had been healed, her mind still throbbed sharply. All she wanted was rest.

Yet, as she passed the waiting room, she paused, choosing not to leave the platform directly but to enter.

Inside, it was empty.

Naturally so.

The waiting room’s screen was off, likely to light up only when the next train arrived.

Seeing this, she didn’t linger but turned to leave.

Following the stairs where she had met Jiang Yingzhi, she ascended to the surface platform of Yun City station. Crossing through the door, the bustling noise of the crowd suddenly filled her ears.

She had returned to the world of the living—normal life.

Seeing the flow of people in the main hall, Lu Jinchao momentarily felt disoriented. No one paid attention to a tired-faced girl, and soon she hailed a taxi outside the station to return to her dormitory.

Before this, she had prepared an excuse for her disappearance, but no one mentioned it.

When she arrived, it wasn’t a holiday, and she hadn’t informed anyone in advance, yet her roommate’s reaction was as if she had simply just returned from a class.

“...Seems like the train intervened?”

This strange reaction implied that no matter what she said, she couldn’t express Lin Zhao’s “last words.”

Weariness washed over her again. Lu Jinchao refused to think further and lay straight on her bed, falling into a deep sleep.

She slept for a full fifteen hours, undisturbed.

When she awoke, the dull ache in her head finally faded.

Sitting up, she tensed as she saw the empty dorm room, then quickly looked out the window. Only when she saw the normal scenes and students passing below did she relax.

But it was then that her clear mind realized she might have developed some form of PTSD from the platform ordeal.

She didn’t know if other passengers suffered similarly, but after witnessing such horrors, few could return to normal life unchanged.

Now with her mind restored, Lu Jinchao began to replay the events.

“It’s a matter of experience,” she concluded.

Being a novice, she was clueless and passive during the “Summoning Ghost” task. Early on, she didn’t know what to do or what might happen.

Later, even when she grasped the key points, an unarmed rookie’s options were limited.

Her survival owed much to her wit and composure, but luck was equally vital.

“Is there a better way to break this mission?” she pondered.

“Delay the summoning until the train is about to arrive?”

“No, the result would be the same.”

She shook her head, dismissing the idea.

“Perform two rituals to summon two ghosts to counterbalance? The train only requires the ritual to be completed, not that it can’t be done multiple times.”

She shook her head again. “No, too risky. Unless there’s no other choice, that’s basically suicide.”

She considered other options but rejected them all.

“Seems the rules leave no loopholes.”

Yet she thought of one last, if not a true solution.

“The deadliest part of the platform is facing multiple ghosts when boarding. What if...”

“Kill everyone else at the start, so they can’t perform the summoning ritual, preventing more ghosts from appearing.”

“The platform’s difficulty would drastically decrease.”

Survival would become much simpler.

Still, Lu Jinchao shook her head. This idea only came after knowing all the mission details.

Few could bring themselves to make such a merciless choice at the onset.

In her reflection, she recalled something crucial.

“...The ticket!”

Jiang Yingzhi’s ticket was still with her.

Reaching into her pocket, Lu Jinchao found, besides her own ticket and that strange box, another ticket.

But this ticket was blank—no name, no amount—waiting to be filled in.

Like an ownerless ticket.

Suddenly, she remembered Lin Zhao’s final words.

Could it be that Lin Zhao had also placed an ownerless ticket in the locker?

And when Lu Jinchao touched that ticket, the train marked her as a passenger?