Chapter 520

Clank, clank.

Beneath the crimson sky, the iron wheels of the Infinite Train rumbled along the north-south track, their rhythmic clatter unfamiliar yet strangely nostalgic; Lin Xian couldn’t recall how long it had been since he last heard such sounds, and though he remained sharply alert to danger, a quiet longing stirred within him.

He turned his head, gazing through the narrow passage of the power car toward the rear compartments, remembering how empty the train had been when they first left Jiang City—only three people aboard.

Now, with Chen Laoshi gone, only he and Kiki remained on this heavily armed, armored train.

Ughhh!!

In the instant Lin Xian hesitated, grotesque crimson figures erupted from the blood mist ahead, surging forward at blinding speed—but before he could make out their forms, the Infinite Train’s radar system detected them, and its point-defense plasma beam array activated silently, sweeping a searing high-temperature ray across the path; the charging crimson horrors disintegrated instantly into flying shards.

Lin Xian took a deep breath, immediately checking his status markers on the armor interface; he was most concerned about the hollow-faced monsters he’d encountered yesterday—elusive, appearing without warning. After confirming no changes in the dark markers, he accelerated the train further.

Outside the train, hundreds of flying drones orbited the Infinite Train like satellites, forming a dense defensive network from sky to ground; the radar grid was so precise it locked onto every approaching mosquito. With this protection, Lin Xian no longer needed to rely on his eyes to detect threats, and if track issues arose, Kiki could respond instantly.

“What’s wrong?” In Car 2, Kiki returned to her familiar command center, one hand using telekinesis to spin a metallic die rapidly, the other swiftly typing on the keyboard to log the observed data.

“A few mutated zombies. Nothing.” Lin Xian replied.

Kiki kept working, calmly saying: “Unless something unexpected happens, we shouldn’t trigger a Crimson Tide. Our real concerns are still high-level anomalies and hunters, and the road conditions.”

Lin Xian, watching the thinning blood mist ahead, asked: “You mean the hunter—that thing with a black hole for a face, that can teleport?”

“Correct—but it’s not teleportation. Remember when we left Hawaii, and monsters emerged from the mist? To these creatures, the Crimson Space is another dimension entirely, not the three-dimensional reality we perceive.”

“Why call them hunters?” Lin Xian asked. “What’s the difference from anomalies?”

“Because they’re intelligent.”

Kiki’s voice came through the comm. Lin Xian’s brow tightened: “What do you mean?”

“Other anomalies usually react when disturbed or target dark markers. But hunters? They’re like wandering assassins—undetectable by soul-clearing values, independent of dark markers, erratic, nearly impossible to track, and lethally efficient. With the Infinite Train’s defenses, we’re safe. But out in the open? Even someone like you or me could die in an instant if we slip up. Phoenix Society believes these beings were precisely engineered by the Tower People as ‘hunters,’ hence the name.”

“And beyond ordinary hunters, there are larger, specialized variants. They may appear only as Special Class in size, but their destructive potential exceeds even S-Class threats. We saw one before at the Harco Front—within less than a minute, the Blade Team, whose average soul-clearing value was twenty thousand, was wiped out entirely, inflicting massive casualties on Phoenix City’s reinforcements.”

“That bad?”

“The worst part? It hasn’t been eliminated. It hides, retreats, waits for its chance.”

Lin Xian’s expression grew grim: “The one you and Lei Meng encountered at first—it did appear strangely. If you hadn’t reacted in time, that Aron would’ve been dead.”

“Yes, thankfully it was just one, and a basic one—we took it down quickly together. But others won’t be so lucky,” Kiki added. “Rumors say that if you feel fear in its presence, it instantly appears behind you. So a squad must move with perfect coordination and maintain emotional stability—or things won’t go smoothly.”

Scrape! scrape!

More anomalies emerged from the roadside, eliminated by the Infinite Train’s laser weapons. Lin Xian kept the heavy thermal weapons secured, avoiding drawing wider attention.

Hearing Kiki’s words, he recalled what he’d seen in the Civilization Simulation Sphere and murmured: “The Tower People’s ‘Angels’ stripped away pain and fear. But after their high civilization was destroyed, Yunika’s consciousness absorbed fear and pain, which spread with the Dark Invasion, triggering humanity’s transformation. Now it seems—in their civilization, pain and fear weren’t just emotions. They defined them as sub-energy forms and physically separated them. So your claim that hunters can sniff out human fear… might not just be metaphorical.”

“Really? Then wouldn’t Chu Yan be in trouble?” Kiki replied. “Pity—I actually had a decent impression of her…”

Lin Xian fell silent. He realized Chu Yan’s consciousness in the Civilization Simulation Sphere had emerged to protect him—but the scene of her being consumed by the Angel reminded him: part of her consciousness—or essence—had already been severed and isolated. That’s why no one knew her purpose after leaving Phoenix Society. From Lin Xian’s speculation, the Chu Yan who left might already be a “different, unfamiliar Chu Yan”—or a “Chu Yan stripped of her benevolent will.”

As he thought, Lin Xian directly entered the Black Star Forge, attempting to call out to Chu Yan—but again, there was no response.

For safety’s sake, he promptly exited the Black Star Forge—when suddenly, a long-absent voice echoed beside his ear.

【I am here.】

“Grace!!??” Lin Xian never expected it—Grace’s voice.

【It’s me. Long time no see. Are you safe right now?】

Lin Xian asked urgently: “What’s going on? Did Nantianmen lose control? Or did something happen to you?”

On the blue planet’s geostationary orbit, the massive photovoltaic wings of the Nantianmen Defense Platform turned silently like luminous wings, countless servo motors precisely adjusting angles to align every alloy panel toward the blazing sun.

Above the 12-kilometer-diameter ring-shaped energy storage array, the main station platform glowed with faint blue arcs. Inside the transparent observation cabin, Grace stood motionless in a ballet pose, her visual focus system piercing through the Celestial Veil, a crimson planet reflected in the window.

Ninety percent of the blue planet’s surface was now smothered by thick crimson; the red dome, like congealed blood, devoured continents and oceans. Sunlight was entirely blocked. The blue planet, in the deep void, resembled a dying world wrapped in a cosmic crimson veil.

Grace picked up the brain-machine transmission device linked to the Flicker Bullets; the interface lights flickered.

【I used the dark energy frequency data transmitted from the Starlab to re-engineer the brain-machine information processing module of the Flicker Bullets. It seems… it worked.】

“Starlab?” Lin Xian frowned. “They can now transmit dense data?”

【Yes. Using a wave frequency between the Crimson Frequency Synchronization Device and a forbidden artifact…】