Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 458 Killing Train

"The first step to climbing the tower is never a test of your strength, but rather your health."

The number of corpses you can step on determines whether you can continue.

—The Traveler's Journal at the End of the World, Chapter One

The Void Whale Star Sea surged silently, and the train seemed to be speeding through the belly of a whale in the universe.

The carriage suddenly shuddered, and the announcement bell rang coldly.

"Attention all passengers."

The train conductor's voice was hoarse, like an old phonograph being forcibly turned on.

"This train will arrive at its final destination in two hours."

Ding--

A cold countdown appeared on the metal wall at the end of the carriage: 02:00:00.

Time ticked and flickered under the cold light.

Immediately afterwards, another line of light appeared on the screen:
[Leadership Ranking]

27 passengers, and several non-passengers
Initial score: 5 points

The carriage fell silent instantly, with only the sound of heartbeats echoing through it.

Broadcast continues:

The rules are as follows.

1. Points can be stolen. Any method is acceptable.

2. There are several attendants on board; their points can be stolen and included in the score. Specific number and value—unknown.

3. Upon arrival at the station, the top 3 participants in terms of points will be allowed to disembark. All other participants will be considered eliminated.

The cold, metallic sound paused, as if intentionally making sure everyone remembered it.

Additional notes:
—Points are the starting point. After reaching the Tower of the End, the points you earn will be converted into initial Cataclysm points based on your completion rate.

Finally, a maximum of three people are allowed to disembark. There is no strict requirement that it must be three.

As soon as he finished speaking, the entire carriage suddenly exploded.

Everyone understood.

A maximum of three people can get off the bus?
This means that if someone is powerful enough to kill everyone else and all the non-passengers, they can monopolize all the points and enter the Tower of the End with the perfect start.

The air solidified, like blood-red gunpowder brewing inside sheet metal.

Some people's faces turned ashen, while others were covered in cold sweat.

Someone licked their lips, a hunting hunger flashing in their eyes.

Si Ming leaned against the window seat, his gaze calm.

He knew that everyone on the bus had understood the key points.

two hours.

More than twenty people.

Three lives.

The slaughter is about to begin.

"—Good luck to you."

The train conductor's announcement echoed through the carriage, then fell into dead silence.

The countdown above my head flashed coldly: 01:59:59.

The two-hour brutal hunt has begun.

The air suddenly became heavy.

Several passengers instinctively tensed up, their nerves on edge, as if ready to face the first blow at any moment.

But in this oppressive atmosphere, the only one who seemed out of place was the girl with pigtails by the window.

She turned her gaze away from the countdown with interest, her movements leisurely.

He pulled a pink lollipop from his pocket, tore open the wrapper, put it in his mouth, and took a small bite.

The crisp sound of the sugar shell breaking was particularly jarring in the deathly silent carriage.

She tilted her head, her smile sweet: "It's a pleasure to travel with you all."

His gaze fell on Si Ming, as if he were greeting a new classmate.

"Although I don't know your name yet, the dead don't need to be remembered."

--Snapped.

She snapped her fingers lightly.

In an instant, Si Ming felt a chill run through his heart.

Looking down, he saw a small explosive charge floating over his heart, glowing red.

"W-what?!"

"There's a bomb in my chest—!"

Chaos immediately erupted in the carriage, with six or seven people simultaneously clutching their chests in terror and breathing rapidly.

The girl remained seated, as if she were arranging a stage play.

She stretched out her hand, her fingertips tracing the air, and uttered a sweet yet icy incantation:
"—Bloom brilliantly, Spirit Princess of Blood and Flame."

boom! ! !
The intense heat in my heart suddenly exploded.

A series of explosions tore through the air, and flames and blood mist swirled in the narrow carriage.

In an instant, the entire carriage was set ablaze, and crimson fireworks burst wildly under the metal dome.

The girl gently swung her legs, the lollipop in her mouth making a squeaking sound, and her eyes reflected the streaks of crimson flames.

It's like a child watching a fireworks display.

however……

As the smoke cleared, her smile gradually froze.

Only one or two screams remained.

Some passengers collapsed and turned to charred remains, others clutched their chests and groaned, but there was one person who stood out—

Sima Ming.

He was still sitting opposite him.

His figure appeared and disappeared in the smoke, like a phantom, with a half-smile playing on his lips.

Those eyes were calm and sarcastic, staring straight at her.

—As if to say:
"The fireworks were beautiful. Unfortunately, you set them off at the wrong target."

The girl with pigtails' smile was still frozen on her lips when her eyes suddenly narrowed.

"How can it be……"

However, she didn't have time to think about it.

In the back row, an Indian man, his body charred black, stood still, his eyes bloodshot with anger.

The scorch marks from the explosion remained on his chest, but a dark snake's shadow emerged below his sternum—

It was a mysterious summoning object that had saved him from the brink of death.

"A despicable little trick!"

He gritted his teeth and pressed the snake flute to his lips.

"—Dance among ten thousand snakes!"

The deep, resonant snake music suddenly exploded in the carriage.

Hissing sounds filled the air, and the entire carriage transformed into a snake pit in a blur of illusion and reality, with black venomous snakes surging forth from the seats, luggage racks, and light fixtures. The cold, metallic sound of scales rubbing together sent chills down one's spine.

Two crimson king snakes, like ghosts, silently crawled to the back of the twin-tailed girl's neck, their fangs bared high.

The girl screamed, then suddenly snorted coldly.

"roll!"

Before the king serpent could bite down, it was burned to a charred skeleton by the sudden explosion of flames, and fell to the ground with a hiss.

Flames flickered at the corners of the girl's eyes, her pupils glowed red, and her fingers moved like an orchestra conducting fireworks.

Before she could even catch her breath, a cold, icy light suddenly shone from the shadows.

A death scythe fell silently, heading straight for the snake musician!

"puppet?"

The shadows trembled, and a figure emerged—an elderly man with a full head of white hair.

His hands gripped thin silver threads, guiding each puppet. The sickle was just one of them.

With a flick of the silver thread, the sickle puppet strode forward and slashed diagonally at the snake musician's arm; another short-sword puppet sprang out from under the table, its blade aimed straight at the God of Fate's chest.

"Ah."

With a flick of his wrist, Si Ming sent three playing cards flying out.

The first piece struck the short-sword puppet's elbow joint with a "crack," sparks flying from the wooden joint, causing the puppet's knees to buckle and it to kneel down.
The second slice cut across the white-haired old man's fingers. The silver thread was jolted by the firelight and trembled slightly in the air. The scythe puppet's heavy blade missed its target, and the cold blade grazed the head of the snake flute before landing on the back of the seat, tearing a gash with a clatter.
The third card struck the Snake Musician squarely between the eyebrows. Suddenly, a burst of sparks erupted from the back of the card, the flute music stopped abruptly, and he staggered back three steps, clutching his arms and coughing up blood.

The old man's puppet was forced to retract its strings, its killing intent interrupted. Si Ming, however, did not pursue. He raised his eyes, his gaze meeting the pupils of the twin-tailed girl opposite him—

She had a candy-like smile on her lips, her laughter like a gunpowder pellet, and she flicked it lightly with her snow-white fingertips.

"Snapped."

On the empty seat to the left of the God of Fate, a blood-red ball of light suddenly rose from the ground—Yan Ling Ji.

It gathers in the air like a blooming flower, and with a "beep" at the heart position, the red dot lights up.

With a flick of his right palm, the two playing cards took the initiative, rubbing against the red dots, and the flames exploded prematurely.

The impact flipped half of the seats over, the nails clanged loudly, the roof lights exploded with a "pop," and sparks rained down.

"You dodged very quickly." The girl with pigtails smiled and flicked her finger again. "Then a little more."

"Clap-pop-pop-"

Wherever her gaze fell, four blood-fire explosives simultaneously leaped out of the void, as if pulled by invisible threads, and pounced on Siming from different angles.

With a light tap of his toes, Si Ming leaped diagonally onto the luggage rack. With a flick of his palm, a handful of playing cards burst from his sleeve, spinning rapidly around him and creating a crisp whistling sound.

The playing cards were arranged in a circle and rotated in mid-air, their faces flipping over in turn. Hearts, spades, diamonds, and clubs flashed alternately in the broken lights.
Like a storm wall composed of thin blades, it repelled the incoming balls of blood and fire one by one.

Two explosives were grazed by the pistol, causing them to lose their balance and detonate prematurely. Flames billowed up a cloud of black smoke under the luggage rack and overturned the dilapidated seat next to it.
The remaining two cards were slapped by the scepter, their trajectories abruptly altered, and they crashed into the corner of the empty cabin with two muffled thuds. The floor of the carriage was scalded into two black holes, and waves of heat rushed out.

The girl with pigtails was still strumming her fingers, like a musician playing a rhythm:

"Snap." She pointed to the cracked light fixture on the ceiling of the carriage.

The blood and fire snaked along the power line, striking directly at the top of the head of the God of Destiny;
With a flick of his left hand, Si Ming stacked three cards into a cluster, like an extremely thin fan, which caught and deflected the flames. The flames brushed against the luggage rack, leaving a trail of charred streaks.

"And this?" She blinked, spinning the candy stick around and around, her breath sweet as orchids.

Tables and chairs, corners, trash cans, overturned leather seats—from four different shadows, four cartoon bomb figures hopped out.

With their headlights flashing, they screamed in childish voices, brandishing small bombs, and charged toward the storm of playing cards that had been summoned by the God of Fate.

A cold glint flashed in Si Ming's eyes, and more than ten playing cards suddenly converged inward, the storm instantly shrinking into a swirling blade.

With a flick of his wrist, the swirling blade circle slashed downwards with a "whoosh," sweeping past the knees of the four figures.

The four little bomb figures stumbled and fell, their red lights flashing wildly above their heads, just before they collapsed—

"boom!!!"

At the same time, four explosions occurred, and the narrow carriage felt as if it had been hit by a heavy hammer. The metal walls shook violently, and cracks meandered along the window frames, with shards of glass raining down.

The shockwave flipped the luggage rack halfway over, causing bags to crash to the ground, cables hissing and catching fire, and heat waves carrying smoke surged through the air.

Black smoke billowed and engulfed the rotating deck of cards on the luggage rack—as if it were swallowing people up.

The girl with pigtails stood outside the smoke, squinting, her fingertips still in the snapping motion.

She waited patiently for the leaderboard to refresh with a "beep."

No.

The standings remain cold and impersonal.

Her smile faded, and she sighed softly, "Playing tricks... Where are you hiding?"

She took a step forward, and flames quietly rose from the tips of her shoes, spreading along the ground in a thin trail of flames that tentatively probing into the smoke.

"squeak--"

There was a soft metallic clang from above. The girl looked up sharply and saw the half-torn vent cover gently closing.

Her eyes twitched, and she wanted to flick the strings again to detonate them, but suddenly realized that in that brief exchange of blows, the puppeteer had already reeled in the strings, and the snake musician had already disappeared through the other end of the car, dragging his injured leg.

What remained in the carriage was the intense heat and acrid smoke from the explosion.

She wanted to curse, but just pursed her lips. The candy stick snapped in her hand with a "crack."

The carriage descended into deeper chaos.

Meanwhile, Si Ming's figure, under the cover of the series of explosions, slid through the ventilation shaft into the adjacent passageway and disappeared into the fire and smoke.

"Ah."

He shook his head slightly, his steps unhurried.

"Is my life only worth five points... Fate really likes to play jokes."

Si Ming muttered to himself as he pushed open the door to the next carriage.

The atmosphere suddenly changed.

This is the bar carriage.

Completely different from the clamor of the battles before and after, the place was eerily quiet. The dim light from the chandeliers swayed, and a faint, cool aroma of alcohol wafted through the air.

Behind the bar, a bartender in a neat white shirt was quietly cutting ice.

"Ka-ka-"

The sound of ice skates hitting ice blocks was clear and rhythmic, like a metronome, dispelling the bloodshed and chaos.

The bartender looked up and gave a professional smile.

"Hello, guest."

His voice was warm and deep, as if he were really an ordinary waiter.

Need a relaxing cocktail?

Si Ming smiled, walked over, and sat down at the bar without any hesitation.

"of course."

He reached out and tapped his fingertips lightly on the bar, but his eyes were as cold as a knife.

"Your wine—"

He paused, a sarcastic smile playing on his lips.