Chapter 217: Business Booming (Revised)

Hengshan Pass is the first transportation hub city after crossing the Dazhu Mountains into the Yunjiang Plain, much larger than Jiazhou City due to its unique geography: northward it leads to Xilan, through Star Abysses 4 and 5 to Quancheng; southward it connects to Qingshui, Lancheng, and Haidong, circling Star Abysses 7 and 8; directly east lies the Ring Star Main Axis, running along the outer edge of the Palma Grassland, passing through the Wei River and Longjiang all the way to Jinhai and Xingcheng—the former capital of Long Country, now renamed Shuguang City by the Lianbangzheng Prefecture.

The train sped rapidly across the endless plain, daylight fully bright, no mountains visible in the distance; along the tracks, zombies appeared—dry, rotten, stinking, drawn by sound and sprinting toward the rails.

As they neared the city, buildings grew denser; Kiki stayed busy, launching a drone to scout the situation.

In other cars, Shu Qin Building and others also began preparing; zombies had appeared along the route in increasing numbers, and the city interior would hold far more—plus unknown factors—so the entire train was now on combat readiness.

Within the urban zone, skyscrapers multiplied, resembling a forest of steel and concrete, appearing desolate under the sunlight.

The black rain had not yet reached the Yunjiang Plain; overgrown vegetation now sprouted in the long-abandoned streets, vines climbing low buildings, animals weaving through streets blocked by abandoned cars, while ragged zombies wandered, low moans rising as the railway vibrations drew them.

All signs were coated in dust—as if, without humans, roads and infrastructure decayed rapidly; railings began to rust.

Inside the Wuxian car, many crew members pressed against the windows, gazing at the unfamiliar city; unlike Yubei City, choked with zombies, Hengshan Pass felt like an ordinary town during an escape—reminding Lin Xian of Jiang City.

"This place doesn't look like it had many people."

Bright sunlight poured down as Kiki observed the urban jungle and spoke.

"You hoping to see survivors sunbathing on rooftops?" Lin Xian replied.

Kiki stretched: "Honestly, after running through darkness so long, such good weather is perfect for sunbathing."

Lin Xian said nothing, standing: "We're nearing Hengshan Pass Station. Prepare."

"Got it, boss."

Clank. Clank~

Hengshan Pass Station was an elevated platform built within the city, naturally becoming a shelter—but the scene suggested the platform had already fallen; strangely, not a single zombie remained, as if cleared in advance.

The black heavy train raced swiftly along the city's elevated rails, approaching a major passenger terminal: the Ring Star Passenger Center. Lin Xian stepped into the cab and froze—on the platform stood numerous survivor vehicles, and one green, armored, battered end-times train, its body reinforced with steel plating.

The train had many firing ports, was not very long, and carried numerous armored grilles; though not standard construction, it looked sturdy. Its locomotive was a Ring Star Mining Series unit powered by a small nuclear engine—inferior to the Wuxian's Twin Star nuclear engine, yet possessing such sustainable power made it impressive.

Lin Xian scanned the train—it seemed packed with people. Before entering the station, he spotted several dazzling glints from elevated points on the platform; he followed their source and saw several figures atop the steel framework, observing them through binoculars.

"So many people—could they be stranded here because of the anomalies in the Palma Grassland?"

Chen Sixuan's vision was exceptional; she instantly spotted dozens of vehicles parked on the platform inside the station: motorcycles, off-roaders, Jeeps, vans—all kinds. Around them, survivor groups clustered, as if waiting for something.

Lin Xian scoffed: "Flip the perspective—maybe they're all waiting for us?"

As the Wuxian appeared, those people turned their gazes toward the station entrance; the green end-times train's machine gun turrets began rotating, clearly on guard as the black heavy train, roaring with wind, rolled into the platform.

On the platform and tracks, countless cleared zombies lay scattered on the ground.

"Here it comes—this must be the train."

"Called Wuxian, right?"

"Everyone stay cautious. Such cheap prices might be a trap."

"Fall back! Find cover!"

Survivor groups erupted in noise; as the train entered, they retreated behind their vehicles or climbed aboard. Years of flight had made them hyper-cautious—not just toward the night, but toward any unfamiliar caravan.

On the green train, men and women alike stood alert, most armed; the atmosphere grew heavy.

Hearing their murmurs, Lin Xian was slightly surprised—so many survivor caravans had come just from a single radio broadcast. Clearly, one gun plus 120 rounds for a box of biscuits was an excellent deal.

But Lin Xian didn't lose either: besides the weapons collected from Tang Hai, he'd acquired vast quantities from the Huoxian and Jingang caravans—his train had more guns than ammo. After Chen Laoshi's count, there were at least a hundred, and if more were needed, he could manufacture them on-site.

Seeing so many people, Lin Xian remained cautious; aside from Jiang Yun's Bonfire Mutual Aid Society, this was his second time organizing a survivor gathering—and the first he'd personally initiated.

Squeak~

The Wuxian slowly halted on the main platform, steel wheels humming against the rails, under the gaze of dozens of survivor groups.

Lin Xian walked to the window; Chen Sixuan called out: "Be careful—I see some teams were already stationed here, others clearly came specifically for us."

"That means our radio message worked."

Lin Xian nodded: "Don't worry. We're proactively seeking cooperation. Future interactions with other teams will be inevitable—stay alert, but also try to engage."

Since leaving Jiang City, apart from Jiang Yun's group, he and Chen Sixuan had mostly encountered trigger-happy bandit caravans—no wonder Chen Sixuan was now so cautious; Lin Xian himself was too.

But constant timidity wasn't a solution. Sometimes, openly displaying strength was a way to keep others "friendly."

Besides, he didn't want his mechanical ability to remain hidden, only producing gear internally—it was vital to turn it into value, acquiring survival supplies, intelligence, or equipment.

"Mm." Chen Sixuan nodded.

Lin Xian lowered the window, scanned the platform's many vehicles, and called out loudly: "We are the Wuxian Caravan. Are you all here to trade supplies?"

No sooner had he spoken than a middle-aged man in a hat stepped from behind a vehicle, shouting: "How many guns? How many rounds? Besides biscuits, what else can you trade?"

Four or five caravans—including the green train—used the station as a temporary shelter; over a dozen more survivor groups, clearly from other regions, had arrived, each sending only two or three people. At least fifty to sixty heads were visible on the platform—clearly, survivor caravans near Hengshan Pass were numerous.

The green train's window slid open; a sharp-eyed Fatty poked his head out, scrutinizing Lin Xian: "Don't try to fool us. So many people here—if you can't produce the goods, no one will believe you, right?"

"Right."

"Exactly!"

"Don't lie!"

…

Lin Xian shouted: "Don't worry—we have plenty of weapons. We mainly want food, medicine, even blood essence."

Hearing this, some survivors stepped forward.

"We heard you fix machinery—can you fix anything?"

"Are you heading to Xingcheng? Can you take passengers? We can offer supplies."

"Can you repair vehicles?"

!

"What kind of water purifier? Does it meet Level 2 standards?"

"Do you have the latest Dangling Value detector?"

Questions rose in a chorus, as if the Wuxian were a mobile general store.

Lin Xian waved his hand to interrupt: "Repairs must be done here—we'll need to assess the situation. We have both Level 1 and Level 2 water purifiers, but no latest Dangling Value detectors—only the first-gen model released by Fenghuang Society. And we're not going to Xingcheng."

He wasn't lying: his intention to reach Xingcheng meant sneaking in—not driving in openly. Even if he ignored the train's risks and carried passengers, he'd have to deliver them safely—he couldn't just dump them en route.

He opened the door and stepped down. Simultaneously, the automatic door of Car 5 opened; Da Lou, Lu Chang, and others carried down weapon crates made by Lin Xian.

Seeing Da Lou's imposing frame, his back-mounted Roarer K23 electric rotary machine gun, and another male crew member carrying one down, everyone's eyes narrowed—from shock to envy and longing.

The Fatty on the green train was Cao Hong, captain of the Night Phantom Caravan. As the women on his train were numerous, he now changed expression and shouted to his men: "Quick, get out and check!"

Lin Xian stepped forward, planted a foot on a weapon crate, and declared boldly: "Automatic rifles, VOG grenade launchers, M556 light machine guns, shotguns, 12. mm vehicle-mounted cannons, rocket launchers—I've got them all. Other gear too, depending on your needs."

"As announced on the radio: automatic rifle with 120 rounds for one box of biscuits or half a box of canned food; grenade launcher with 12 grenades for two boxes of biscuits and one box of canned food; light machine gun with 500 rounds for four boxes of biscuits or two boxes of canned food; rocket launcher for two boxes of canned food; vehicle cannon for four boxes of canned food…"

Based on prices from Lin Xian's prior trades at Juanguan and other caravans, weapons were currently worth more than energy and food—they were essential survival tools, the primary need for most ordinary people.

One Level 1 blood essence could be exchanged for three Xinghuo 26 fully automatic tactical rifles plus ammo, or enough food for ten people for five days. Thus, one automatic rifle with 120 rounds could buy at least one and a half days' food for ten people—equivalent to at least one box of twenty canned goods or two boxes of biscuits. Lin Xian's prices were effectively halved.

Lin Xian now looked like a wealthy landowner liquidating old assets; these items held little current value to him, so trading them didn't sting.

He also knew that as humans evolved, low-end weapons would lose value, while food's importance would surpass weapons.

Yet no sooner had he finished than the survivor caravans surged forward, eyes gleaming.

"I've got canned food and biscuits—dried meat too!"

"Our caravan needs a lot of weapons…"

Whoosh~

The middle-aged man in the hat yanked open the rear door of a van behind him—inside lay several large crates of supplies: various foods, canned goods, dried rat meat, dried lizard meat, and even a large glass jar filled with ground-up cockroach paste, gray-brown in color, with bits of cockroach wings clinging to the rim.

"We want the vehicle cannon and that light machine gun. See if this is enough—if not, we have more stock at our temporary camp—we can pay more."

"Hey, what's your meaning?" Cao Hong from the Night Phantom Caravan pushed through the crowd with several men, visibly annoyed: "What do you mean 'we want them'? Others haven't spoken yet! If you raise your bid, I'll raise mine too—this light machine gun, I'll trade three boxes of canned food!"

The hat-wearing man clearly led a major caravan; he didn't flinch at the Fatty's large train, speaking brazenly: "Brother, first come, first served—what's wrong with me seeing it first and bidding first?"

"Oh? First come, first served's fine—but only if the seller agrees. Highest bidder wins. I'll offer three boxes!"

"Then I'll go four boxes—and throw in a jar of secret-flavor cockroach oil."

"We can add two bags of crispy stinkbug chips!" Cao Hong's armed female companions chimed in.

Ugh~

Kiki and Shasha, eagerly watching beside Lin Xian for tasty trades, turned green at the mention of cockroach oil, nearly vomiting.

Shu Qin and others also looked stunned; they were familiar with such things—but now aboard the Wuxian, their conditions had improved drastically: two meals daily, mostly canned or starchy food—luxurious by end-times standards.

Requesting monthly votes, deeply grateful.

(End of Chapter)