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

After the adrenaline subsided, fear slowly crept up my legs.

Zhao Weilai was somewhat relieved that he was wearing training clothes.

She steadied herself by holding onto the stainless steel handrail, but her stomach still felt uncomfortable.

Just a dozen seconds ago, the teenagers were laughing and playing around.

Now, their body parts are stuck in the corners and edges of the carriage.

[Player James Wilson has died.]

[Player Liam O'Conno is dead.]

Player Javier García has died.

[Player... has died.]

……

The screams in the carriage hadn't completely subsided, and the remaining surviving players huddled together, trembling.

The musty smell in the subway was even stronger.

Zhao Weilai took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.

Those who panic in dungeons are often the first to die.

She began to carefully examine her surroundings, trying to find the hidden rules.

This should have been a modern train carriage.

Gray plastic seats, matte stainless steel wall panels, fluorescent lights overhead, and public service announcements covered with long paragraphs of English text on the wall panels.

But now, something strange seems to have happened to the entire carriage.

Where the blood had fallen, there was a stain that looked like rust.

On the matte metal panel, large patches of paint have peeled off, revealing rusty cast iron underneath.

The original modern GG poster has faded to yellowed old paper, on which is printed a Victorian gentleman wearing a top hat.

The words "tobacco" were written in cursive English, but the handwriting was blurry.

The plastic seat is half plastic and half dark brown solid wood.

The parts of the handrail that were soaked in blood turned into brass.

It's like a modern photograph, riddled with countless holes of all sizes from cigarette butts, revealing the old appearance hidden beneath.

Two trains from different eras overlapped.

……

……

Zhao Weilai carefully stepped over the pieces of meat on the ground and finally arrived at the connecting area between the carriages.

The original folding stainless steel partition door has somehow been replaced by a heavy oak door.

The brass door handle was polished to a shine, and a diamond-shaped piece of glass was embedded in the door.

She tried pushing it, as if she were reaching into a swamp, but the wooden door didn't budge.

"Was there...this door just now?"

Zhao Wei was talking to herself when, a second later, a knock sounded on the door from the other side:

"Knock knock knock!"

"Knock knock knock!"

The knocking was urgent, carrying a sense of urgency as if trying to confirm something, but Zhao Weilai remained cautious and did not reply.

Were they the players who survived in the second carriage?

Or something else?

Zhao Weilai listened intently for a while longer, but the sound disappeared again.

It was as if what she had just experienced was merely a hallucination.

"Phew—" Zhao Weilai let out a soft breath, but when he turned his head, he was startled:

At some point, a large group of people began to follow closely behind her.

The priest, the Indian man, the white woman who had struck up a conversation, the international student, and the couple all clung to her like little chicks looking for their mother.

The other living people in the carriage were also staring intently at her.

It was as if they were afraid she would abandon everyone and run away.

……

……

"Shhh."

Zhao Weilai raised his hand, put his index finger to his lips, and made a shushing gesture, indicating that everyone should leave the doorway first.

She did not intend to force the door open.

Everyone nodded hurriedly, even the most flustered Indian covered his mouth, not daring to make a sound.

It felt as if something might pounce on him and bite his throat at any moment.

The group quickly moved to seats at the end of the carriage.

Only when the knocking stopped completely did they dare to breathe heavily.

……

"Thank God, His protection is with us."

The white woman clutched her chest, her voice still trembling with shock.

She habitually made the sign of the cross on her chest, glanced at the priest beside her, and then quickly looked away.

His facial expression carried a noticeable sense of aloofness.

The priest nodded slightly, his voice low and steady:

"The glory of the Lord protects every devout believer."

The white woman's lips twitched, but she didn't reply.

Zhao Weilai, unsure if the two knew each other, whispered a few words of advice:

"Come here, everyone. Don't touch the blood-stained areas. There's something strange about those places."

The situation is unclear right now, so try not to touch anything unnecessarily.

Several people nodded hurriedly, like sheep following a lead sheep.

They were afraid that if they answered even a moment too late, they would end up like those teenagers.

The gruesome deaths of their kind are too shocking; no one wants to risk their own life.

Not many players survived in the train carriage.

Zhao Wei glanced at it, trying to make his voice sound less shaky and more convincing:

"Since we're forming a team temporarily, let's start by introducing ourselves. Names, identities, whether we've awakened any classes... try not to hide any of this information."

We are very likely facing something even worse, so I need everyone to unite.

In dungeons, information is life.

After the Special Investigation Bureau gathers information from various instances and players, it will conduct a review and select classic cases as examples.

— Suya's team almost got wiped out in the last dungeon because a newbie player took it upon himself to hide crucial information.

The most common mistake newcomers make is taking things for granted, which ultimately harms themselves and their teammates.

……

The group exchanged glances, and the first to speak was Mu Xiao, a Chinese student studying abroad.

"My name is Mu Xiao, I'm from Hangzhou, and I'm a second-year fashion design student at the University of the Arts London. Today I went to the National Gallery to see an exhibition, and then took the last subway back to my apartment at King's Cross."

She gripped the strap of her canvas bag tightly, appearing noticeably nervous under the watchful eyes of the others.

"I was planning to revise a few drafts on the subway, but the accident happened shortly after the train started moving..."

As she spoke of this, she seemed to recall a terrifying scene, and her eyes reddened, but the next second, she forced back her tears.

Zhao Weilai smiled reassuringly at her, while the white woman next to her was more direct, taking her hand.

The second person to speak was the black-haired priest.

He bowed slightly, his English tinged with a faint Russian accent:

"Kolyva Siris had just been transferred from Moscow to the St. Sophia Monastery in Istanbul three months ago."

I attended an interfaith conference during the day, and tonight I was supposed to stay overnight at an Orthodox church in the city.

At this point, he raised his hand and touched the cross on his chest.

"Everything before us is a trial by Satan."

The priest paused, his gaze sweeping over the bloodstains in the carriage: "May the Lord forgive all the departed souls."

As soon as she finished speaking, the white woman gave a soft snort: "Divider."

The sound wasn't loud, but it was loud enough for the people around to hear.

She sat upright with her back straight, looking every bit the part of a typical British middle-class housewife.

Margaret Jones, a resident of Barking, is an Anglican.

I'm going to a Bible study class in the city tonight and will catch the last bus home.

She emphasized the words "Anglican Church," her gaze sweeping over Father Corlevo with obvious wariness:

"This is all a trick of Satan, and God will surely save His believers."

Father Collevo only frowned slightly, without refuting him.

Zhao Weilai still didn't understand the subtle tension between the two.

Mu Xiao, who was standing to the side, noticed this and hesitated to speak.

Next up is that Korean couple.

……

The boy, Kim Myung, put his arm around his girlfriend, Park So-na, trying to appear calm, and spoke English with a heavy accent:

"My name is Kim Myung, and this is my girlfriend, Park So-na. We are Korean travel bloggers who run a YouTube channel about traveling around the world."

He shook the action camera hanging around his neck, the lens still capped: "We originally wanted to film an episode about riding the last London Underground, but unexpectedly..."

He didn't finish his sentence; his face looked very grim.

Park So-na looked up and added in a low voice in broken English:

"We were supposed to fly to Paris tomorrow..."

Before she could finish speaking, she started gagging.

Kim Myung patted her back and whispered a few words of comfort in Korean, his tone irritated and frightened. At the end, he couldn't help but mutter "Shiba" under his breath.

Finally, there's Ravi Patel, who is of Indian descent.

His hands were still trembling, and his speech was so rapid it was almost incoherent:

"My name is Ravi, Ravi Patel, a programmer in the financial district. My car, yes, my car was sent for maintenance. I worked overtime until after 10 p.m. tonight, and I took the last bus. I have a project meeting tomorrow morning, and I still have a module I haven't finished writing. I can't die, I can't die..."

His mutterings had a slightly neurotic, self-comforting quality, but no one present interrupted him.

After Zhao Weilai finished his self-introduction, everyone looked at him.

Other passengers in the carriage were also secretly glancing in their direction.

In that chaos just now, everyone could see that this calm Asian man was the most reliable.

They just didn't dare to come over rashly.

……

……

"I'll get straight to the point now."

Zhao Weilai ignored the passersby and got straight to the point:

"What I'm about to say may not be true to you, but it is all true."

We have now entered an alternate dimension instance, which is basically a death game.

Only by finding the rules, following the rules, and completing the task can one escape alive. Similarly, breaking the rules will result in death, just like those people…

As soon as he finished speaking, Ravi shook his head, his tone filled with fear and agitation:

"What rules did they break? God, I shouldn't have taken this damn last train!"

Margaret made the sign of the cross and comforted him, "My child, you are terrified. This is just an illusion by Satan. God will take us away."

God?

If God truly existed, these copies wouldn't exist.

Zhao Weilai looked somewhat helpless, then suddenly remembered something and raised his right hand to show it to the others.

The half-meter-long butcher knife in her hand vanished instantly.

The next second, it miraculously reappeared.

The blade gleamed with a cold, sharp light; the body was thick and heavy, and the edge had a slight nick.

The carriage fell silent.

"Angel!"

Margaret covered her mouth, letting out a soft gasp, her eyes wide, and she kept muttering to herself:

"Oh my God... a miracle, this is a miracle, you must be an angel sent by God..."

Father Coleman was also stunned. He stared at Zhao Weilai's hand for a few seconds, then bowed his head and prayed softly.

Mu Xiao's eyes lit up, and she moved closer to Zhao Weilai, as if she had found her pillar of support.

……

……