Chapter 471

Including Lin Xian, everyone on the Infinite and the Falcon Sea Team likely never imagined that a train could navigate like interstellar travel at depths of several kilometers beneath the ocean.

2,650 meters beneath the Pacific Ocean, east of Haiyan, all light was swallowed by the deep water; yet in this pitch-black, suffocating ocean brimming with vast death, a luminous current like a ribbon of starlight wound its way—this was the circumcurrent beneath the mid-ocean ridge, propelled by intense thermal and pressure gradients into rapid flow, like a high-speed tunnel beneath the sea.

Normally, such terrifying deep-sea currents were death zones before the Apocalypse, inhospitable to all but a handful of microbes and fish; for human submersibles, they were classified as hazardous conditions, and no one had ever thought to exploit them this way.

At this moment, within the geothermally lit current band, a train and a nuclear submarine were swept forward at high speed by powerful currents, piercing through the dark waters.

On the Infinite and North Wind 09, though no guns fired and no bombs exploded, it felt as if they had endured a brutal battle: the cabins were in chaos, the main structure warped, windows cracked, debris scattered everywhere, the air thick with the stench of blood; survivors bore bleeding wounds, bruises, and fainting were minor, while fractures and puncture injuries were everywhere.

The terror just now was no less than throwing these people into a high-speed centrifuge; within minutes, everyone felt as if they had lived years, having crossed the gates of death countless times—if it had lasted longer, many more would have been shredded alive.

Conditions aboard North Wind 09 were dire, but the Infinite was even worse; this slender train-turned-submersible had not torn apart in such an extreme vortex solely because Lin Xian had used robust materials when modifying it at Yongcheng Port, equipping its pressure hull with starship-grade special steel, and with Lin Xian and Kiki constantly patching and repairing, they had barely kept this deep-sea iron rod from snapping or splitting.

Carriages 8 and 7 were the worst off; nearly all dozens of Falcon Sea Team members were injured. On the Infinite, Long Zhijie and Kiki were injured and unconscious; others suffered only minor wounds, thanks to the interstellar-grade power armor Lin Xian had provided, far safer than the standard protection of the Falcon Sea Team. Even so, the extreme overload left Miao Lu, Xiao Yuan, Lu Chang, Mo Xiaotian, Sun Yuzhen, and Shasha Luo Yang vomiting uncontrollably, disoriented, their faces deathly pale.

Vanessa, by comparison, was relatively unharmed; she was already helping Shu Qin, Daliu, and others tend to the crew.

Mo Nika removed her power armor and limped forward from the rear carriage; though she feigned calm, her face was clearly pale—she had overused her ability, and being in the last carriage had been her worst experience since the Apocalypse.

“You’re still standing? Not bad.” Qian Dele leaned against the sofa in Carriage 6, exhausted; he had acted as the carriage’s fire marshal all through the chaos, dashing repeatedly to rescue and extinguish fires, leaving him half-dead. Of everyone aboard, his condition was best—he was a Speed Force adept, and extreme overload was child’s play for him.

“I’d rather be dead.”

Mo Nika walked over, one hand braced on the sofa’s edge, her gaze sweeping the room: Long Zhijie rested on the sofa, still wearing his mask even in unconsciousness; Shasha had an ice pack pressed to her forehead, her eyes rolling constantly; Sun Yuzhen was applying ointment to Mo Xiaotian and Luo Yang’s abrasions; only Bai Xiaoqing stood upright, her expression unchanged, yet her brow deeply furrowed as she stared in one direction. Lu Xingchen sat in the sofa’s corner, hugging a trash bin, vomiting violently every few seconds, his face ashen, utterly devoid of the “Fire God’s” former swagger.

“Lin Xian, how are they?” Mo Nika asked.

Qian Dele tilted his chin upward: “Shizhi is treating them. Lin Xian did something insane again—Shizhi says he’s drained to the point his spiritual energy can’t focus, but he should be fine. Our captain isn’t a pretty pillow—he’s formidable.”

“He’s amazing~” Shasha rubbed her swollen head, murmuring: “I thought we were dead for sure.”

“Not that bad,” Xiang Ningjing said, massaging her temples as she sat: “Worst case—if the hull ruptures—we can still burst to the surface using our power armor.”

Qian Dele shook his head, smiling: “It’s not that simple, Captain Ning.”

“In this environment, if the train exploded instantly, even with interstellar-grade power armor, few could survive. Look.” He pointed to Long Zhijie: “Someone like him, or Kiki, or even me, or Daliu with his blood aura ability—maybe we could endure it. Everyone else? Almost no chance. Gradual descent and instant explosion are worlds apart, especially inside that terrifying vortex.”

“Alright, I seriously underestimated the ocean’s power,” Xiang Ningjing replied.

“Look.”

At that moment, Mo Xiaotian stared out the porthole and exclaimed: “The light’s dimming.”

Everyone turned to the window: the once luminous current, which had seemed to glide through a glowing ribbon, had now grown dim; the seawater deepened into darkness, the faint blue luminescence growing sparse.

Mo Nika’s eyes flickered as she spoke slowly: “Fewer geothermal microbes—means we’ve moved far from the underwater volcanic cluster.”

Several carriages of the Infinite now showed visible deformation, twisted inside like a knotted rope; yet the outer pressure hull remained intact, a result of Lin Xian’s constant repairs without being able to realign the structure, causing the distortion.

But to Lin Xian, these were trivial—so long as the hull didn’t crack, repairs could come later.

Inside the carriages, many pipelines had burst; Carriages 4 and 3, the research carriages, were in ruins, with numerous instruments and lab tables destroyed.

In the medical bay, Chen Sixuan, Ding Junyi, Xiao Yuan, and Miao Lu gathered around; Kiki lay inside, being scanned by the full-spectrum medical bay.

“Same as Long Zhijie—no serious damage, just spiritual energy overload. But there will be some physical depletion.”

Ding Junyi pulled two cold-dark vials from a box and handed one to Xiao Yuan: “Give one to Long Zhijie, the other to Kiki—it’ll ease the strain.”

“Also,” she said to Miao Lu, “take the Hell Black Chrysanthemum to Carriage 6. Its energy leakage is high now—likely absorbed and transformed after the Lidao explosion and the Great Ocean God’s appearance. Placing it there will help everyone recover faster.”

“Understood,” Xiao Yuan and Miao Lu replied.

Seeing Kiki stabilized, Chen Sixuan immediately turned and entered the cockpit. Lin Xian sat at the controls, drinking water while staring ahead at the dark current; the spotlight pierced the abyss but revealed no end—only endless seawater.

Shizhi sat in another seat, raising her hand to calmly cast her spiritual purification ability; the space flickered with You green light.

“We’ve escaped that zone—at least a hundred or two nautical miles.”

Seeing Chen Sixuan enter, Lin Xian didn’t turn his head.

Chen Sixuan walked beside him, glanced at Shizhi, then looked ahead with complex eyes: “We still don’t know where this current leads. It’s night now—if we encounter other monsters, it’ll be trouble.”

“Not for now,” Lin Xian closed his eyes slightly, his expression relaxing: “So many big monsters gathered at Haiyan Island—more crowded than Shuguang City. Probably every monster within hundreds of nautical miles was drawn there. What’s left are either weaklings or S-class. We’ve had enough bad luck—we won’t run into any.”

Chen Sixuan couldn’t help smiling faintly, saying oddly to Lin Xian: “I’ve never seen you this optimistic.”

Lin Xian sighed, his expression one of utter exhaustion.

“Whatever. I’m completely drained. This current flows eastward—though it veers off the oceanic track, it shouldn’t slam straight into any monster. Let it carry us wherever it will, right?” He looked toward Viola.