I, the screenwriter, have experienced a resurgence of inspiration.

Without warning, the blond teenager's head began to elongate upwards.

It was as if an invisible hand was pinching his head and pulling it upwards—like kneading a piece of candy.

Everyone watched helplessly as a human skull dislocated with a faint cracking sound, followed by the neck being stretched:

The original normal length instantly doubled, and the skin was stretched thinner and thinner, almost revealing the bluish blood vessels underneath.

Next came the head, forehead, chin, cheeks... The originally round and harsh face was stretched into a thin strip.

The stretching process lasted less than a second.

The blond teenager's head had been stretched to half a meter in length, with the thinnest part only as thick as a wrist.

The skin was so thin it was almost transparent, and you could see the pale pink brain tissue inside.

Then--

"Bang."

A muffled thud.

It wasn't deafening, but in the deathly silent carriage, it exploded like a thunderclap.

One by one, heads exploded with a "bang" in the enclosed space.

It's like an overripe watermelon bursting open.

His head exploded from the very top.

Warm blood, milky white brain matter, and fine bone fragments instantly splattered in all directions.

Sticky, warm liquid splashed onto the dark blue seats and the dusty car windows.

It even splashed onto the faces, bodies, and hair of the passengers next to them.

The corpse remained in the same standing position, seemingly unaware that its head was gone.

The next moment, it was as if all its bones had been removed, and with a "thud," it crashed heavily onto the floor.

Blood was still gushing out from the severed neck.

Dark red blood flowed down the floorboards, quickly forming a small dark red puddle.

It was sticky and had a strong rusty smell.

Next, the second, and the third.

"Bang!"

"Bang!"

"Bang."

The entire carriage fell into a deathly silence.

All sounds ceased abruptly.

Everyone had their mouths open.

Everyone watched everything unfold with blank expressions and a sense of bewilderment.

Dead silence.

A deathly silence that lasted for nearly five minutes.

The only sounds in the carriage were the rumble of the train and the buzzing of the fluorescent lights.

Some people didn't even try to wipe the unidentified brain tissue off their faces.

No one could react in time, no one could utter a single word, not even a single syllable.

When overly bizarre and surreal images appear before our eyes, everyone's mind becomes foggy and gray.

There wasn't even time for the emotion of "fear" to arise.

Like a lamb that has been kept in a pen, suddenly seeing the executioner's knife fall.

How could a lamb that eats delicious pasture all day and lives a happy life know how the butcher's knife will fall or from where?

However, this day arrived without warning.

So the lambs collapsed.

……

……

……

……

The screams finally erupted.

"He's dead! He's dead! Dead!"

"Help! Help us! Help us!"

"Blood! So much blood! So much blood!"

"Oh my God!!"

"Aaaaaaahhhhh!!"

"Ugh... ugh..."

……

The entire carriage of over twenty people screamed in unison—the man's hysterical roar and the woman's piercing wails.

Several people were bent over, holding onto their seats, and vomiting violently.

The stench of sourness mixed with the strong smell of blood and the oily smell of fish sandwiches permeated the enclosed carriage, making it utterly nauseating.

The ink-wash calligraphy ignores the chaos and appears equally in everyone's field of vision:

Welcome to the instance: London's Death Subway.

[Current total number of players in the instance: 137/150.]

[Instance Type: Horror Survival]

Main Quest: Survive.

[Hint: This is a train traveling on the border between the human world and hell.]

All living beings who have strayed into this place and wish to return to the human world must reach Platform Thirteen.

Every night, something strange happens on the train.

Carriages 4, 8, and 12 are designated as the dining car safety zone, where one can find temporary peace and quiet and redeem points.

Your only goal: to survive.

The first night is about to begin.

……

Although the characters were square and neat, everyone present could understand the meaning of each one.

It was as if those words were directly imprinted into my brain.

But the collapse continues, except for a few.

A young man in a gray hoodie rushed to the car door like a madman, gripping the door frame with both hands and screaming desperately:

"Let me out! Let me out! This is a nightmare! I want to wake up! Damn it, damn it!"

His fingernails split open and bled, but the car door remained completely still.

Someone picked up a fire extinguisher and smashed it against the car window.

"Don't smash it!"

Zhao Weilai immediately tried to stop him, but it was too late.

The moment the metal head of the fire extinguisher shattered the car window.

"Bang."

It was the same muffled thud again.

The man's head exploded again without warning.

Blood and brain matter splattered on the thick car window glass, flowing down the smooth glass.

Endless crying and screaming filled the carriage. Some people frantically pounded on the door leading to the next carriage, but it burst like a balloon.

The series of deaths did not deter the frenzied crowd.

They screamed, they cried, they went hysterically insane.

……

……

Zhao Weilai immediately lay down under the seat, not caring that the ends of her hair were almost soaked in blood.

Where did the attack come from?

What are the rules for copying?

Countless thoughts flashed through her mind, with the desire to "survive" growing stronger and stronger.

What's more troublesome is that the ordinary people in this carriage have now completely broken down.

A chaotic crowd can sometimes be more dangerous than a ghost.

She forced herself to cover her ears to ignore the horrific scene outside, only to discover that several clever people were also huddled under the seats diagonally opposite her.

Once it was completely quiet outside, Zhao Weilai tentatively got up, looking at everything in the carriage with a mixture of fear and lingering apprehension:

The ground was covered in sticky red blood, and more than a dozen headless corpses were piled up haphazardly.

Suspicious tissues were stuck to the glass and seats; fragments of eyeballs and rotten flesh were hanging conspicuously on the glass.

Zhao Weilai couldn't hold back and vomited.

The others just watched her vomit violently, as if she were about to throw up her entire stomach.

……

……

……

The screams in the carriage finally stopped.

Many people were so terrified that they could no longer make a sound.

"Attention everyone, we are no longer on the London Underground."

This is a rather dangerous supernatural instance; more deadly dangers are coming soon.

After vomiting enough, Zhao Weilai, with tears in his eyes, got up and comforted the remaining survivors:

"I'm a veteran player who survived dungeons."

"If you want to survive, stay calm, follow my instructions, and don't act on your own."

This time, no one questioned or refuted it.

……

……

……

The second carriage where Weng Yang was located was also a scene of purgatory.

She huddled in the corner, observing the situation of the surviving players.

The copy provides too little information.

The rules only state that you must go to the thirteenth stop. Carriages 4, 8, and 12 are the dining car safety zone, where you can redeem goods using points.

Apart from that, she knew nothing about the specific rules, the types of ghosts, or the sources of danger.

The first night is about to begin, and nobody knows what will happen.

There were still about a dozen living people left in the carriage.

However, most of them slumped in their seats, curled up in a ball.

Some had unfocused eyes, some were sobbing softly, and some were trembling all over, constantly praying to God for protection.

—They were completely terrified.

Is the purpose of guiding new players to understand dungeons through quests to help more players survive?

Then why do we have things like dungeons?

Or is it that the dungeons are actually designed to create more players and then filter them out?

……

……

In a sense, Weng Yang has revealed the truth.

Outside the instance, Song Mo observed everything, her expression filled with a compassion and indifference that she herself was unaware of.

She was both the planner and the observer.