Death Train: SSS-level talent right from the start!

"Goryeo".

Chen Ye's voice came from behind her.

Goryeo paused for a moment, but did not turn around.

Chen Ye straightened up from the edge of the rooftop and took two steps forward: "We may not have traveled back in time. This place may just be an illusion."

Goryeo turned her head and glanced at him: "Whether it's real or an illusion, isn't this already good enough? Why do we have to go back? Death train, survival trial, to hell with them all."

After saying that, she stepped into the stairwell.

The rooftop fell silent.

No one chased after her, and no one tried to stop her.

Chen Ye withdrew his gaze and leaned back against the railing.

Wang Shuo squatted on the ground and muttered to himself, "What she said isn't without reason. Even if this is an illusion, it's exactly the same as our original world. There are no monsters, no death train, no survival trials, and all those who died have come back to life. Everything here is fine, so why should we go back?"

He continued, "Besides, who can definitively prove this is an illusion? I called my mom last night, and she's still the same nagging mom I always am. I want to go home."

A brief silence fell on the rooftop.

He makes a good point.

This place is exactly the same as the original world; there are no monsters, no death trains, and no survival trials.

The soy milk in the cafeteria is warm, the fallen leaves of the sycamore tree make a soft crunching sound when stepped on, and the slogans of the sports students doing their morning exercises on the playground carry far into the morning air.

Those who died in the Corpse Capital and the Ghost Capital all came back to life, and everything returned to normal.

Why go back?

That place is filled with death, fear, betrayal, and a sense of powerlessness, where one could be wiped out by the rules at any moment.

Qin Zhaoyang squatted on the edge of the rooftop, hugging his knees with his hands and resting his chin on them: "What Wang Shuo said... isn't without reason. Who would want to go back to that godforsaken place?"

Li Zheng leaned against the railing, arms crossed over his chest: "The problem is we're not sure if we're really back. What if it's an illusion? The longer we stay here, the worse things get over there."

Wang Shuo stood up from the ground: "Then how can you prove that this is definitely an illusion?"

Li Zheng opened his mouth, but did not refute.

Because he really couldn't prove it.

Zhou Yating took a step forward and stood in the center of the rooftop, her gaze sweeping over everyone present: "If we really have returned, that would be for the best. But if everything here is fake, then our bodies are still in that house in the Ghost Capital."

She paused, her voice lowering, "Even if our bodies aren't in danger over there, how long can we survive without food and water? If we die over there, will we still exist here?"

These words were like a bucket of ice water poured over everyone's head.

Wang Shuo opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Qin Zhaoyang changed from a squatting position to a standing position, and his face turned pale for a moment in the morning light.

Zhao Hai's brows furrowed into a tight knot.

Wang Ze stood against the low wall at the edge of the rooftop, his eyes lowered behind his black-rimmed glasses: "Zhou Yating is right, we can't deceive ourselves."

"Even if we know this is an illusion, we can't break free. There's nothing we can do right now."

Zhao Hai's voice was low and deep, carrying a sense of suppressed powerlessness.

Silence fell again on the rooftop.

Zhao Hai was right; there is an invisible and intangible chasm between knowing it is an illusion and breaking free from it.

They have no talent, no skills, no system panel, and are no different from ordinary people.

"Perhaps there's a way to break it."

Chen Ye's voice came from the edge of the rooftop.

Everyone turned to look at him at the same time.

Chen Ye straightened up from the railing: "If this is an illusion, and everything is fake, including ourselves, then since the illusion is so real, what if I commit suicide? If I die, how will the illusion that has been placed on me continue?"

After he finished speaking, the rooftop fell silent for a moment.

Qin Zhaoyang was the first to react: "Suicide? Brother Ye, are you crazy?"

Wang Shuo suddenly raised his head, his voice trembling: "Suicide? What if... what if it's not an illusion? What if we really traveled back in time? If you committed suicide, wouldn't you really die?"

Li Zheng straightened up from the railing and took a step forward: "Chen Ye, think again, there must be other ways."

Zhao Hai glanced at Chen Ye: "Chen Ye, are you serious?"

Zhou Yating remained silent, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

"I don't believe that house will send us back. The rules of the Death Train never give anyone a way out. Once you're on the train, it's either live or die; there's no third option. So I firmly believe this is an illusion."

Chen Ye's tone was calm, with an undeniable certainty.

Wang Ze pushed up his glasses and looked at Chen Ye's face: "This is tantamount to gambling with one's life."

Chen Ye glanced at him sideways: "From the moment we decided to go into that house, we were already gambling, weren't we?"

Qin Zhaoyang tried to rush up and grab Chen Ye, but Zhao Hai stopped him.

Zhao Hai placed his hand on Qin Zhaoyang's shoulder, his five fingers tightening, his nails digging into Qin Zhaoyang's shoulder.

Qin Zhaoyang groaned in pain, but did not struggle.

Are you sure?

Zhao Hai asked one last question.

Chen Ye looked into Zhao Hai's eyes and nodded.

"OK."

Zhao Hai loosened his grip on Qin Zhaoyang's shoulder and took a step back.

Qin Zhaoyang turned to Zhao Hai, his voice almost shouting, "Brother Hai! You're just going to let him jump like that?"

Zhao Hai did not answer Qin Zhaoyang; his gaze remained fixed on Chen Ye.

Chen Ye walked to the edge of the rooftop and stepped over the low railing.

He stood outside the fence, his feet resting on the narrow cement eaves of the rooftop, his toes dangling in the air.

A morning breeze blew by, ruffling his clothes and hair.

Looking down from here, the ground is far away, and the stone path in the small garden gleams with a grayish-white light in the morning light, with the holly trees along the path neatly trimmed.

Students have already started their activities downstairs.

Someone was walking to the teaching building, eating while looking at their phone.

A bicycle sped past below Building No. 3.

No one looked up, and no one knew that on the rooftop of Building 3, someone was preparing to jump.

Zhou Yating's voice came from behind, trembling with suppressed emotion: "Chen Ye, have you thought it through?"

Chen Ye did not turn around.

He looked down at the crowds coming and going, at those ordinary everyday scenes, then took a deep breath and jumped off the twelfth floor.

The wind whistled in my ears.

The ground rapidly magnifies in the field of vision.

The stone-paved road, the holly trees, the white ceramic tiles along the edge of the flower beds—everything is rapidly approaching.

Chen Ye could hear his own heartbeat, which was especially clear in the wind.

Just as he was about to touch the ground, a blinding white light flashed before his eyes.

The light pierced his eyelids, leaving a dazzling white in his vision, so bright it almost swallowed his consciousness.

Then he heard a sound.

"Chen Ye... Zhao Hai... wake up... damn it!"

It was a girl's voice, clear, cold, and urgent, with a tense tension.