Chapter 296: Subway Station

The cold draft that sweeps the passage carries a moldy odor, like countless invisible hands slipping down the collar into the clothes.

The elevator beneath everyone's feet had long been out of service, its track gaps filled with black grime—the product of dried blood mixed with dust. The flashlight beam flickers in the darkness; at the end of the light column lies a bottomless subway platform.

Zzz—zzzz—

The broadcast speaker overhead, long since decommissioned, sounded out of nowhere.

There is no sign of any current; the sound is dry and grating, like sandpaper rubbing forcefully against rusted metal.

Ladies and gentlemen... good evening.

Welcome aboard... Subway Line 2...

For your safety... please be sure to follow... the following riding rules...

Lei Yu thrust his hand up sharply; everyone froze instantly, their muzzles aligning with the speaker overhead in a synchronized flash.

The voice crackles intermittently, mixed with a teeth‑aching electrical hiss, echoing beneath the cavernous dome.

First... do not linger within the yellow warning line...

Second... if a passenger dressed in red tries to strike up conversation... remain indifferent... do not respond...

Third... loud noise is strictly prohibited on this platform...

Fourth... ticket inspectors work hard... but they are very polite... they will never disturb passengers who are reading...

The broadcast cuts off abruptly.

A death‑like silence again envelops the platform.

Only from the far depths of the tunnel does an occasional drip, drip water sound arise, the underground water seeping through concrete and striking the rails.

Playing tricks.

The bald deputy captain spat, his words tough, but the knuckles of the hand gripping his gun had already turned white.

Lei Yu said nothing, merely gesturing for the squad to keep moving forward.

The air here is colder than above.

It's not a low temperature; it's a chill that seeps into the bones.

The Special Forces members spread out in a tactical formation, scanning the surroundings warily.

The posters on the billboard have peeled away, exposing the mottled wall behind; the models' smiling faces look especially Weird under the flashlight, their eyes painted over with red Paint, leaving two streaks that resemble blood‑tears.

Su Ming walks in the middle of the squad.

But the hand hidden in his sleeve steadily grips the homemade spear.

Ah!

A short gasp shatters the deathly silence.

At the rear of the squad, a young Special Forces member slips.

The ground here is perennially waterlogged, covered with a slick layer of dark‑red moss. To steady his balance, the member instinctively steps toward the platform edge.

That step, absurdly unlucky, lands right inside the faded yellow warning line.

A sudden disaster erupts.

From the previously empty platform, deep within the black tracks, countless pale arms suddenly shoot out!

The arms are thin and long, like noodles softened by water, their skin a sickly gray‑white. They tangle densely like overgrown weeds, instantly clutching the member's ankle.

Help—

The young member's eyes widen in terror as a massive, monstrous force yanks him downward.

His nails scrape the tiled floor, producing a teeth‑aching screech, leaving ten blood‑stained marks.

Xiao Wu!

Lei Yu reacts instantly, turns, raises his gun, and aims.

The motion flows in one seamless motion.

If he pulls the trigger, those damned arms will be smashed into mush.

Don't fire!

Just as Lei Yu's finger is about to press the trigger, a hand reaches from the side and clamps tightly onto his barrel.

Su Ming.

His face bears a perfectly timed terror, but his voice is pressed down to a whisper, almost a breath squeezed from his teeth.

Rules! Rule three!

Lei Yu's pupils contract.

Loud noise is strictly prohibited on this platform.

Gunfire.

In this enclosed underground space, the echo of a single gunshot can shatter eardrums and... awaken those sleeping things.

"What do we do? Watch him die?!" the bald deputy captain's eyes redden with urgency, he draws his dagger and lunges forward to slash.

It's too late.

The arms' strength is astonishing; half of Xiao Wu's body has already been dragged beyond the platform edge, and beneath the dark Abyss, unseen mouths seem to wait to feast on the blood offering.

Coin! Who has a coin!

Su Ming speaks at breakneck speed, rummaging in his own pocket while talking.

No one grasps what he's about to do.

Su Ming doesn't expect these big‑headed soldiers to understand; he reaches back into his pocket and pulls out a one‑yuan coin he had prepared earlier.

At this moment, this rust‑stained steel coin is the lifesaving talisman.

Su Ming's wrist twitches.

The coin arcs a silvery parabola through the air, soaring over the struggling Xiao Wu, and lands far into the dark depths on the other side of the tracks.

Ding—

A crisp metallic clang.

In this dead‑silent space, the sound is unusually clear, even carrying a pleasant echo.

The pallid arms that had clutched Xiao Wu's ankle froze all at once.

The next second.

Like sharks smelling blood, all the arms released simultaneously and surged wildly toward the falling coin. They shoved and pressed each other, emitting a nauseating flesh‑rubbing sound, scrambling to snatch the already motionless coin.

"Pull him!"

Su Ming growled low.

The bald deputy captain reacted swiftly, grabbing Xiao Wu's Tactical Vest in one hand, exerting a sudden force that yanked him back from the brink of death like pulling a radish.

Xiao Wu slumped on the ground, gasping heavily; his trousers were torn, and his ankles were covered with deep purple‑black handprints that had sunk into the flesh.

If it had been a second later, his leg would have been lost.

He might even have become fertilizer for whatever lay below.

Lei Yu watched the surging white mass of arms, a fine layer of cold sweat beading on his forehead. He slowly lowered his gun and turned his head toward Su Ming.

His gaze held scrutiny, plus a trace of deeply hidden apprehension.

"How did you know that thing is sensitive to sound?"

Su Ming had already prepared his excuse.

He pretended to be still shaken, wiping the sweat from his face, and pointed to his ear: "Just now... the broadcast warned against noise. Besides, those things have no eyes, like bats... I thought maybe they hunt by hearing."

"I... just gamble a bet."

A gamble?

Lei Yu said nothing.

In that instant, the kid's hand was unnaturally steady, and the force and angle of his coin toss were razor‑sharp.

That's no gambler.

It's clearly a seasoned hunter.

But now is not the time to probe further.

"Tap, tap, tap..."

Heavy footsteps came from the other end of the platform.

The sound was rhythmic, each step like stepping on everyone's heartbeat.

Everyone instantly held their breath, forming a circle back‑to‑back.

The flashlight beams converged forward.

In the darkness, a tall silhouette emerged.

It wore a deep‑blue uniform, the old‑style work clothes of the subway system decades ago, with copper buttons corroded green. A wide‑brimmed hat sat on its head, and it held a black punching pliers.

The only problem was.

It had no face.

Below the brim was a smooth, pallid skin, lacking eyes, nose, or mouth.

Only a flat sheet of flesh.

"Ticket Inspector..."

The bald deputy captain swallowed, his voice trembling.

This is the "Ticket Inspector" the broadcast mentioned.

The creature moved slowly, reaching a bench, pausing as if checking nonexistent passengers, then mechanically turned, its hollow head pointing toward the Special Forces.

It had no eyes, yet everyone felt a cold stare.

It was looking for a ticket.

No one has a ticket.

In this damned Weird world, the fate of those without a ticket is one thing—its punching pliers will drill a hole in their heads.

"Captain... shoot?"

A squad member held a Submachine Gun, finger on the trigger, trembling slightly.

The creature's oppressive presence was far stronger than the mindless zombies outside.

"Can't shoot."

Lei Yu clenched his teeth, weighing his options.

Gunfire would attract more things.

But if they held fire, the faceless monster's rusted punching pliers clicked and sliced the air, inching forward.

The distance was only ten meters now.

Su Ming glared at the approaching monster, muttering under his breath.

You idiots.

The Rules were recited so clearly, yet they still thought of shooting and killing.

No wonder they can only be foot soldiers in the Special Forces, never rising to captain level in the Investigation Bureau.

He inhaled deeply, his gaze scanning the surroundings frantically.

Trash Can.

Five meters away, a tipped Trash Can lay.

Inside were scattered waste paper and beverage bottles.

Su Ming moved.

He didn't go for a weapon; instead he did a sideways roll and charged to the Trash Can.

"Su Ming! What are you doing!" Lei Yu hissed low.

Su Ming completely ignored him.

He reached into the trash heap, frantically rummaging, and the rotting stench made people's eyes sting.

He found it.

A newspaper soaked with grime.

It was only half a sheet.

Su Ming grabbed the half‑sheet, plopped down on the ground, his back against a wall covered in graffiti.

He held the paper up in front of him, shielding his face.

His movements were stiff, his posture comical.

Like an old man reading a newspaper in a park.

But at a life‑or‑death moment, it seemed utterly absurd.

"He's gone mad?" the bald deputy captain stared wide‑eyed.

Yet, the next second, everyone's jaw nearly hit the floor.

The Faceless Ticket Inspector stepped in front of Su Ming.

It halted.

Its faceless visage leaned toward the newspaper, almost pressed against it.

It sniffed.

Like a dog following a scent.

Su Ming hid behind the paper, his heart pounding, but he forced himself to stay motionless, even slowing his breathing to the limit.

Rule 4.

The ticket inspector was very polite, never disturbing a passenger who was reading.

A few seconds of standoff stretched out like a century.

Finally.

The inspector slowly straightened up.

It seemed to confirm that the human before it was engaged in a sacred activity—reading.

Thus, it turned, continued its heavy steps, and walked toward the others.

"This… this the hell can even be done?!"

The bald deputy captain's eyes were about to pop out.

Lei Yu reacted the fastest.

"Find paper! Quick!"

At his command, the Special Forces members snapped out of a daze and rushed toward the Trash Can.

Even if it was a tattered poster, a manual, or someone even picked up a crushed cigarette pack—so long as there were words on it, as long as it could be read.

In an instant, the originally grim Special Forces squad turned into a roadside reading club.

Everyone leaned against the wall, holding various pieces of trash in their hands, shielding their faces, trembling.

The scene was comical, yet exuded an indescribable Weirdness.

The ticket inspector walked past each team member.

It lingered before a member holding a cigarette pack for a long time, seemingly judging whether this counted as "reading."

The member, terrified, wet his pants, the dripping sound echoing sharply in the quiet platform.

Fortunately, the ticket inspector ultimately let him go.

Only when the heavy footsteps vanished into the darkness at the far end of the platform did everyone collapse, limp as if exhausted, onto the ground.

"Alive… I survived…"

Xiao Wu clutched the leg that had nearly been ruined, his face smeared with tears and snot.

Lei Yu tossed the advertisement paper in his hand—so stiff that even wiping his butt would find it hard—while panting heavily.

He turned his head, staring fixedly at Su Ming.

Su Ming still sat there, the half‑sheet of newspaper still in his hand, not yet set down.

"Su Ming, how on earth did you know all this?"

Lei Yu's voice was hoarse, revealing no hint of joy or anger.

Su Ming set down the paper; his face was pallid, as if written with the words "surviving after disaster," his acting worthy of an award‑winning actor.

"Sir… I… I had previously read posts on that paranormal forum…"

Su Ming stammered, "It said… when encountering something like this, you must follow its Rules… I just… I just wanted to try…"

"Posts?"

Lei Yu let out a cold laugh.

He was a veteran of criminal investigation, and his gut told him this young man was spouting nonsense.

What post could teach you to use a coin to divert a ghost's hand?

What post could teach you to stay calm enough in such a dire situation to look for a newspaper?

This kid definitely has issues.

But he didn't expose him.

In this ghost‑filled place, surviving is the hard truth.

Having someone "in the know" lead the way is more useful than ten guns.

"Well done."

Lei Yu walked over, reached out and pulled Su Ming up, then brushed the dust off his shoulder.

"When we go out, are you interested in the Investigation Bureau?"

It was a probing question.

It was also a promise.

Su Ming lowered his head, looking startled by the favor, and said, "The officer is joking... I'm just an ordinary citizen, just lucky."

"Luck is also a kind of strength."

Lei Yu gave him a deep look and said nothing more.

"Take a minute to regroup, then we move on."

The team reassembled.

But this time, every team member's gaze toward Su Ming changed.

No longer a disdainful look at a burden, but now tinged with awe and reliance.

In this Rule Murder tale, firepower suppression is a joke.

The mind is everything.

Su Ming walked within the team, squinting slightly.

This subway station was dangerous, but compared with the madman's asylum outside where the "Blood Moon Game" was underway, this place was essentially a safe zone of a novice village.

However, those two rules just now were merely appetizers.

The truly deadly thing still awaited ahead.

One minute later.

"Let's go."

Su Ming said softly; this time, he unconsciously moved to the front of the team.

"On the bend ahead, don't walk close to the wall."

"Why?" the bald deputy captain asked instinctively.

"I just caught a glimpse earlier; there was someone inside the wall."

Su Ming didn't turn his head, his tone as flat as if saying, "There's a puddle ahead."

A cold sweat instantly broke out across everyone's backs.