Translator: CinderTL
Jiang Cheng turned to the first female student who had spoken, a playful glint in his eyes. "You said you came here because you received an invitation. Is that true?"
"Yes, yes, it's true," the student stammered nervously, visibly flustered by Jiang Cheng's direct attention. Sensing her explanation might not be convincing enough on its own, she quickly glanced at the others for support. "You can ask them too. I think we all received the same thing."
A Zhe, the Red-Clad Woman, the writer, and the black car driver all nodded in agreement.
At that moment, the writer seemed to realize something. He looked up at Jiang Cheng, his eyes filled with confusion, his mouth slightly agape as if he wanted to ask a question.
But Jiang Cheng didn't give him the chance. A flicker of murderous intent flashed in his narrowed eyes, instantly silencing the writer.
Jiang Cheng withdrew his gaze, his composure unruffled. "Where are the invitations you received?"
"Well..." The black car driver, who was closest to Jiang Cheng, hesitated.
Jiang Cheng smirked coldly. "What? Is it inconvenient?"
Seizing the opportunity, Fatty immediately stepped into the role of provocateur. He pointed a finger at the black car driver and sneered, "Doctor, I bet this guy looks down on you. He probably thinks you're trash, a worthless orphan, that's why he's ignoring you. He's probably waiting for us to leave so he can secretly make a voodoo doll and curse you with dropped internet connections and missing seasoning packets in your instant noodles."
The black car driver's face paled at Fatty's words, his voice trembling. "No, no! You fat liar! I never thought any of that!"
"Hey, man, you..." A Zhe, who seemed to be the group's spokesperson, stepped forward to mediate as the situation escalated.
But Jiang Cheng's icy glare silenced him mid-sentence. He found himself speechless, only to hear Jiang Cheng demand, "Did I ask you?"
"Stand up straight, take off your sunglasses, and speak to me properly!"
"We're not refusing to give you the invitation," the Red-Clad Woman explained pitifully. "It's really gone. It disappeared the moment we arrived. It was like a passport—once it vanished, this bus stop appeared before us."
Huai Yi's eyes narrowed, a sudden sense of unease rising within him. "Wait, there wasn't a bus stop here before?"
"No, this place used to be just as dark as the rest of the area," the female student replied, hugging herself. She glanced into the shadows and quickly averted her gaze, muttering softly, "Who knows what kind of ghosts might be lurking in there?"
Jiang Cheng was also aware of the unsettling darkness surrounding them, but he remained more intrigued by the mysterious post. He didn't think the group was lying. Perhaps the root of their predicament truly lay in that enigmatic post.
"What else do you remember about the post?" Jiang Cheng asked the group. "No need to raise your hands. Just shout out if you have an answer."
"It was just... a normal invitation post," the female student said softly, repeating her earlier explanation. "It asked me to come here at midnight three days later and tell an urban legend to complete the task."
"I received mine a week ago, telling me to come here tonight at midnight," the Red-Clad Woman added. "Everything else was the same."
"If I had to point out something strange, I'd say the post itself felt... odd," the writer said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I mean the background. It didn't look digitally composited. It felt like real paper."
"The paper was very old, with a yellowish tinge. It felt like it was at least several decades old," the writer explained, elaborating as if he knew more about such things.
"Now that you mention it, I remember," the black car driver said, frowning in thought. He gestured with his hand. "The background of that post looked like a ticket—a train ticket, about this size, the really old kind. My father used to collect old ration coupons and train tickets, and the post's background looked just like those."
"A train ticket..." Jiang Cheng slowly turned to gaze at the bus stop sign nearby, a strange glint in his eyes. "Could there be some connection? Was that invitation post actually a train ticket?"
"But what kind of train issues tickets like that?" Wu asked.
"And it seems that everyone who received a ticket, whether they came or not, met with misfortune," the Red-Clad Woman added.
"So what difference does it make whether they came or not?" Wu wondered.
"No, wait!" Jiang Cheng's brow furrowed deeper, as if a terrifying realization had struck him. "That's not the point. The key is that living people can't board this train. Only ghosts can!"
"That explains why everyone who receives an invitation dies—only the dead can board this bus!"
A vague sense of foreboding washed over Jiang Cheng. He felt as if he had stumbled into an unsolvable supernatural event.
Just as he was about to drag Fatty Huai Yi away from this place, a light suddenly appeared in the distance.
It wasn't the harsh glare of car headlights, but a hazy, yellowish glow.
Two dim, lantern-like headlights slowly illuminated their surroundings, and a massive, dark silhouette lumbered out of the darkness, steadily approaching.
As the hulking shape drew closer, the ground trembled beneath their feet. A deep mechanical rumble mingled with the grating of worn gears, sounding like some ancient, heavy machine shaking its rusted frame as it crawled forward.
That was the impression, but the reality was far more shocking.
When the colossal black silhouette finally came to a steady halt before them, Fatty stared wide-eyed. An incredibly dilapidated bus stood before them.
Its body was painted a deep, inky green, so dark that it nearly blended seamlessly into the night.
Gradually, Jiang Cheng noticed something even more bizarre: since the bus had appeared, all other vehicles on the road had vanished.
Not just the cars, but the road itself, the streetlights lining it, the residential complexes they'd passed, the lit windows of houses, and even the lake—everything had disappeared.
Now, the entire area behind the bus was shrouded in darkness. Jiang Cheng glanced back and saw that the rear half of the vehicle had completely dissolved into the gloom, merging seamlessly with the night.
It felt as if the bus were dragging the darkness along with it, devouring everything in its path.
The bus interior was eerily silent. From the outside, it was nothing but a blurry void—not pure blackness, but a disorienting blur that threatened to swallow anyone who stared at it for too long.
Jiang Cheng instinctively took a few steps back. Fatty Huai Yi and the others followed suit, keeping their distance from the ominous bus.
Sweat began to bead on Jiang Cheng's forehead. His heart pounded, and his fists clenched slightly. For the first time, he felt that primal tremor deep within him with such intensity.
This was what terrified him most: the fear wasn't his own, but Wu's—the entity residing within him.
Wu was terrified.
Terrified of the bus before them.
This was what terrified him most: the tremor didn't originate from him, but from the Void within.
The Void was afraid.
Afraid of the bus standing before him.
(End of the Chapter)
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