Translator: CinderTL
"You failed," Pi Ruan said, his tone strange, as if both dreading it might be his turn and trying to pinpoint the next unlucky victim. "So... who's next?"
Luo He was out of the running. That left Jiang Cheng, Pi Ruan, Fatty, and Lin Wan'er. Even a fool could see Jiang Cheng had the best chance of success.
"Doctor!" Fatty exclaimed, reverting to his familiar term of address in his excitement. As he walked toward the exit, he shot Jiang Cheng a meaningful glance. "I need to talk to you."
Outside, in a secluded corner of the corridor, Fatty glanced back to ensure no one was following before whispering urgently, "Doctor, I suspect Pi Ruan is up to something. Huai Yi and I both believe he killed Chen Qiang."
"Did you see how Luo He was acting earlier? He might be setting a trap for you. I even suspect Pi Ruan has been bought off—he might be planning to eliminate us all so they can exploit the gold mine together," Fatty continued gravely. "As the saying goes, 'Fine wine reddens faces, gold corrupts hearts.' Doctor, don't fall for their tricks."
Jiang Cheng nodded, reassuring him, "I understand what you're saying. Don't worry, I won't die that easily."
With Jiang Cheng's reassurance, Fatty's anxiety eased slightly. As expected, Jiang Cheng was ultimately chosen as the most suitable candidate for the task.
Lying beside Fu Fu, Jiang Cheng slowly closed his eyes.
Fatty Huai Yi huddled behind Lin Wan'er, warily eyeing Luo He and the visibly uneasy Pi Ruan. Pi Ruan had been ostracized, kept apart from Lin Wan'er and the others.
Jiang Cheng was jolted awake by a peculiar, rhythmic sound. He blinked dazedly, taking several seconds to orient himself.
He was on Train No. 5, surrounded by people of all ages and genders, their clothes tattered like refugees.
Train No. 5.
He was back again.
But this time felt different. The same chilling dread lingered, but it was now tinged with an unsettling sense of realism.
It was as if he had been transported back to the train's maiden voyage.
Yet the atmosphere in the carriage was peculiar. Everyone kept their heads bowed, the only sounds aside from occasional breaths were faint, stifled sobs, as if they feared being overheard.
Someone was crying.
And not just one person.
The sobs were muffled, as if they feared being heard.
In this carriage, Jiang Cheng sensed none of the excitement these refugees should feel at their impending arrival in the next town, where they would begin new lives.
Instead, they seemed resigned to their fate.
They would die—in the dank, shadowy mines.
A suffocating atmosphere of despair permeated the train car, its oppressive weight even affecting Jiang Cheng, an outsider.
Why?
How could they possibly know?
According to his calculations, the Easterners' plot shouldn't have been exposed yet.
Could it be...?
Jiang Cheng raised his gaze to the opposite end of the car. At first glance, nothing seemed amiss, but upon closer inspection, he spotted a telltale detail.
Near the car's gate stood three men dressed as refugees. Yet, compared to the others, their strength was unmistakable. Beneath their tattered clothing bulged wiry muscles, and their faces lacked the sallow pallor of chronic malnutrition.
They appeared to be resting, but beneath their half-closed eyelids lurked sharp eyes that scanned the carriage. Their luggage was minimal—only cloth-wrapped, elongated objects clutched tightly in their hands.
Blades. Eastern Blades!
These men were Easterners, and they had already seized control of the train.
The Easterners had boarded earlier than anticipated. Jiang Cheng frowned, realizing the situation was far more complex than he'd initially assessed.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jiang Cheng noticed a pile of tattered burlap sacks near one of the Easterners' feet, deliberately placed there.
Through a gap in the burlap sack, Jiang Cheng spotted a hand hanging limply, conspicuously stained with fresh blood.
There's a dead man behind the sack!
Someone must have realized something was wrong and tried to resist, only to be killed by the Japanese and their body dumped there.
Gazing at his compatriots, heads bowed and enveloped by fear, Jiang Cheng could feel their despair and helplessness as if it were his own.
A voice drifted from the adjacent car, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching their compartment.
With a grating screech, the connecting door between the cars slid open. Escorted by several Japanese soldiers, a familiar figure stepped through the doorway.
"Don't panic, everyone! The Imperial Army is here to rescue you!" A man with a buzz cut spoke in a servile tone. "Just obey orders, work hard, and you'll get white steamed buns to eat! We're all compatriots here—I, Qiao Hanhui, would never deceive you."
"But if anyone even thinks about escaping or resisting..." Director Qiao, whom Jiang Cheng had seen earlier, sneered, his demeanor instantly hardening. "I'll kill them!"
At his words, everyone lowered their heads, too terrified to even glance at Director Qiao.
Jiang Cheng lowered his head, feigning terror like the others, but inwardly he was already mentally digging up the ancestral graves of Qiao Hanhui, that notorious traitor, several times over, while simultaneously cursing his entire family.
Now everything was clear. No wonder the Japanese had captured the refugee train so easily—that bastard Qiao Hanhui had been helping them from behind the scenes.
Thinking back, Crippled Liu had asked Wu Dali when they first arrived at Feng Manor if these people had been sent by Director Qiao.
Soon, Director Qiao moved to the next carriage, helping the Japanese pacify the refugees. His words, as always, were nothing more than the same old shameful rhetoric about dishonoring their ancestors.
After regaining his composure, Jiang Cheng began to analyze the situation.
Returning to this point in time must serve a purpose.
The key to changing history lay in preventing the tragic events that had unfolded. This meant rescuing the refugees before the Japanese ambushed the train with their main force and dragged everyone to the gold mine.
And, of course, executing Qiao Hanhui, that arch-traitor.
The Great High Priest had yet to reveal himself, but Jiang Cheng was certain he was on the train, likely in the last carriage.
Now that his objective was clear, the question was how to achieve it.
This carriage alone had six Eastern guards, and there were likely more lurking among the refugees. By extrapolation, Train No. 5 must have had at least several dozen Eastern guards.
Jiang Cheng wasn't arrogant enough to believe he could take on all these enemies single-handedly. Moreover, there was the enigmatic Great High Priest overseeing everything, his true strength unknown.
A direct confrontation was out of the question.
But as he hesitated, trouble found him. "Hey, you there, what are you doing?" An Eastern guard had noticed him and was approaching.
Jiang Cheng's eyes narrowed. Since he couldn't avoid the confrontation, he'd eliminate this guard first, then deal with the other Eastern guards in the carriage.
Clenching his fist, he feigned fear and waited for the guard to close in.
(End of the Chapter)
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