Train Survival: Can I get a treasure chest by touching my goddess?

"Are you really going to take everything you said in the regional channel as utter nonsense?"

Zhang Yang made a strange sound in his throat, like a chicken being choked.

His mindset revolves around the idea of ​​"putting the big picture first."

The rhetoric of "moral blackmail" and "winning people's hearts" crumbled into nothingness at this moment.

This young man really wanted to kill him.

It wasn't a bluff, it wasn't a negotiation, and it wasn't an attempt to force him to make concessions.

They really wanted to kill him.

Fear poured over him like ice water, freezing all his calculations, ambitions, and self-perception as a "guide" into ice crystals.

"Kill him!" Zhang Yang's voice was forced out of his throat, sharp and distorted, "Kill him! There are so many of us, so many talented people, even if he's a good fighter, he's still just one person—"

He shoved away the people holding him, pointed at Shen Wen, his face trembling: "Attack him together! If he doesn't die, we'll all die!"

Do you think he'll let you go?!

The group of people exchanged glances.

Some gritted their teeth and took a step forward, some gripped their weapons tightly, and some had a certain talent shining in their palms.

But no one dared to be the first to rush forward.

Shen Wen glanced at those people, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

"mob."

He took a step.

It's not "rush," it's "go."

Step by step, slowly, the boots sank into the mud with a dull thud.

But those few steps felt like stepping on the hearts of those people.

The tall man behind Zhang Yang was the first to move.

He gritted his teeth, let out a low growl, and charged at Shen Wen like a wild boar cornered against a wall.

The fist swung in a wide arc and slammed down, accompanied by a whooshing sound, its surface gleaming with a metallic sheen.

Talent: Iron Fist.

Shen Wen didn't even stop walking.

The scimitar slashed upwards, the blade colliding with the fist.

"clang--"

The sound of metal clashing exploded in the rain, making people's eardrums hurt.

The man's fist didn't break, but his arm was jolted upwards by the shock, causing him to lose his balance and stagger to the side.

His eyes widened, clearly not expecting anyone to be able to shatter his talent with a single strike.

Shen Wen's second strike has already occurred.

It wasn't a chop, it was a slap.

The back of the knife struck his wrist, the sound of bones shattering muffled by the rain.

The man screamed in agony, the dark light on his fist instantly went out, and his entire arm drooped limply.

Shen Wen turned to the side and rammed his knee into his ribs.

"Click—"

At least two ribs were broken.

The man was thrown out as if hit by a truck, crashed into the mud, slid two or three meters, and then lay still.

He didn't die, he just fainted from the pain.

From the moment the shot was taken to the moment it was finished, it took three seconds.

Zhang Yang's cold smile froze on his face, as if someone had pressed the pause button.

He opened his mouth, and rainwater poured in, running down his chin, but he was completely unaware.

The people behind him stopped moving completely.

Some people had already put down their weapons and raised their hands above their heads, their movements so practiced it was heartbreaking.

Some people turned and ran, slipped on the muddy ground, got up and kept running, disappearing into the bushes in a tumble and crawl.

Zhang Yang stood there, with only the tall, thin man who had just supported him beside him.

The tall, thin man released his grip, took two steps back, and then two more.

"Mayor Zhang..." His voice trembled, "I...I just came to take a look, I didn't expect—"

Before he could finish speaking, he turned and ran away.

Zhang Yang stood alone in the rain, his raincoat fluttering in the wind.

He looked at Shen Wen, his lips trembled a few times, and suddenly spoke, his voice urgent and rapid:

"Everyone's focused on the mission right now—"

Before he could finish speaking, he suddenly waved his hand.

The black mist shot out from under the tree canopy, condensing into a distorted face with its gaping black mouth, lunging straight at Shen Wen.

Zhang Yang took two steps back, and a sinister smile finally appeared on his face.

"I refuse to believe you can handle a Black Iron-level evil spirit!"

His voice trembled, but his smile grew wider: "Evil spirits are much harder to deal with than goblins! No matter how good you are at fighting, can you even defeat it?!"

The black mist had already reached Shen Wen.

A chilling aura swept over me, carrying a rotten, sweet, and fishy smell, as if a corpse had been left to dry in the sun for three days and then soaked in filthy water.

Shen Wen didn't move.

Behind him, Su Qingxuan's hand had already been raised.

A pale golden talisman flew from her palm, pierced through the rain, and precisely affixed to the wisp of black mist.

"boom--"

The talisman exploded, bursting with golden light.

Exorcising talisman.

The black mist was knocked to one side by the golden light, emitting a piercing shriek, like fingernails scraping against an iron plate.

Its speed slowed down, and the distorted face sizzled as it was burned by the talisman light, with black energy surging, like a person who had been scalded and was pulling their hand away.

Zhang Yang's smile froze halfway.

"This...this is impossible—"

Before he could finish speaking, an icy blue arrow flew from his side and struck the core of the black mist.

The cold air exploded, freezing the black mist into a cloud of ice fog, which froze in mid-air for a moment.

Jiang Youchu stood at the edge of the bushes, her fingertips still covered in frost. Rainwater that fell around her froze into tiny ice crystals.

Her face was pale, but her eyes were bright.

Su Mu darted out from the other side.

The scimitar was shrouded in a dark gray mist, its malevolent aura activated to its maximum, and it cleaved into the frozen black mist with a single strike.

The scimitar was shrouded in a dark gray mist, its malevolent aura activated to its maximum, and it cleaved into the frozen black mist with a single strike.

The fog and black mist collided, making a sizzling sound, like hot oil being poured into a snowdrift.

The distorted face let out a scream, and its entire soul was split in two, black energy scattering like a punctured balloon.

Su Qingxuan's hand flew out of the ebony coffin and directly absorbed the nearly shattered Black Iron-level evil spirit.

Seeing how easily Shen Wen and his team had dealt with his trump card, Zhang Yang's smile completely vanished.

He stood in the rain, his lips trembling, his face shaking.

There was no one behind me.

Those who followed him either ran away or scattered. Everything he had envisioned before was shattered by Shen Wen's blade.

Everything was broken.

"Just now..."

Zhang Yang's voice was trembling, and his knees were already starting to bend.

"I was just joking earlier—"

He knelt down in the mud with a thud, his face splattered with rain and mud, but he didn't bother to wipe it off.

"My talent is very useful! It's really useful!"

His voice was urgent and fast, as if he was afraid that if he spoke too slowly, he would miss his chance.

"My talent is being a trailblazer!"

It lets you know the type and name of the next four platforms in advance! And when there are multiple platforms, you can choose to have all five trains enter the same platform at the same time!

He knelt on the ground, looking up at Shen Wen, rain streaming down his face, indistinguishable between rain and cold sweat.

"This talent will be very useful to you! Really useful! It will help you gain an advantage in group battles! It will allow you to know the battle information in advance! It will—"

Shen Wen looked down at him.

Rain dripped from the tip of the knife, splashing into the muddy water in front of Zhang Yang, creating tiny water droplets.

"You shouldn't have said it, because now that you've said it, it means..."

Shen Wen's voice was very calm, as if he were talking about something extremely ordinary.

"You gathered so many people just to deal with us."

Zhang Yang's mouth was open, but the words were stuck in his throat, and he couldn't utter a single word.

Shen Wen didn't look at him again.

The scimitar was raised.

The rain washed away the bloodstains from the blade, revealing the cold, gleaming body of the knife.

Zhang Yang's pupils suddenly contracted, and his mouth opened as if he wanted to shout something—

The blade flashed.

The head rolled into the muddy water, flipped twice, and landed face up.

Its eyes were still open, its mouth was still agape, and rainwater poured in and spilled from the corners of its mouth.

The body fell forward, blood gushing from its neck cavity, mixing with the rainwater and flowing along the ditches on the ground, quickly becoming a pale red color.

Shen Wen sheathed his sword.

The raindrops hit the blade, making a fine, crackling sound.

He stood there, looking down at the corpse.

Just like killing that assassin before, there was nothing particularly special about it.

Like killing a goblin.