Chapter 181: The Train Derails
“Baby, you can’t tell just by looking. Come closer.” Xu Huazhang gave a gentle tug, and Mu Lantu fell into his arms.
Mu Lantu leaned back, laughing as he spoke. “I can’t. I’m afraid of catching your lovesick brain.”
Xu Huazhang wrapped his arms around his waist to stop him from escaping. “Isn’t that a good thing? Lovesick brain and lovesick brain—a match made in heaven.”
Mu Lantu covered his mouth with a hand and continued scrolling through the forum.
The Emotional Stop section mostly contained posts from players seeking advice: how to leave Infinite University, how to level up faster… Some discussed which places in the entertainment space were fun. True emotional problems made up only a small fraction.
Internships & Part-Time Jobs: Mostly postings from Infinite University itself, which were actually dungeon instances. They gave no credits, but clearing them yielded far more gold than a class. Of course, the risks were much higher. A few were player-to-player task postings. For those desperate for gold or who liked thrills, it was a great place.
Flea Market: The player-to-player trading platform. Prices were set by players. Transfers didn’t require face-to-face trades but were handled through forum posts. Very popular. If you were lucky, you could easily find bargains there.
The matter of leaving Infinite University was the one Mu Lantu and Xu Huazhang cared most about.
There were thousands of replies under related posts, but they were mostly spam like “+1” or “+10086.” Serious answers were rare. The only remotely reliable one Mu Lantu found was: Graduate after reaching the fourth year.
But for players, that was a distant, unreachable goal.
Students had at least 30 classes a week—30 dungeon instances. A semester lasted 15 weeks, that was 450 dungeons! A school year was 900 dungeons!
How many students could guarantee clearing them all?
The terrifying numbers made players avoid thinking about it. Survival came first.
But Mu Lantu couldn’t ignore it.
He was a system host, after all. If he was stuck just like any other player, what kind of system host was that?
[Little five, how’s your progress?]
005 replied cheerfully: [Reporting to Host, very smooth! I’ve already cracked 95%! Once it reaches 100%, we can open the passage connecting Infinite University and the real world!]
Mu Lantu’s eyes lit up. [Good work, keep it up!]
He and Xu Huazhang had registered an account on the campus forum. It allowed anonymity, protecting players’ privacy.
The only sections they needed to focus on were dungeon-related and campus news—especially campus news. Those were never fabricated. By keeping an eye there, they could always get the latest updates on Infinite University.
The next day, Mu Lantu and Xu Huazhang resumed their usual dungeon routine.
Mission: Prevent the train from derailing. Time limit: 2 hours. Refusing will send you back to Infinite University, with no penalty and no reward. If you do not accept within 30 seconds, it will be automatically accepted.
Success Reward: 2 credits, 200 gold coins (minimum).
Failure Penalty: Death.
——
“Waaah, waaah!”
“Four with two!”
“Damn, I got knocked out again!”
“What? A torn-up dress costs two hundred bucks? Why didn’t you just buy one for twenty? You wasteful woman, you think earning money is easy for me?!”
“……”
On the speeding train, running at over 100 km/h, the soundscape was a harsh symphony: a baby crying, people playing cards, someone gaming, a man yelling into his phone.
Annoying as it was, it brimmed with life and vitality. Who would think that in at most two hours, this train would derail and these lives might be snuffed out?
Mu Lantu turned his head. Xu Huazhang sat beside him, both dressed in Infinite University uniforms.
Around them were familiar faces: Zhao Yuanzhou, Jia Lecheng, Fang Menglei, Qi Tianlu, and Ming Ruizhao—all in uniform as well.
The same carriage held many other uniformed passengers—all players.
They exchanged subtle glances and moved toward the space between cars, where there was more room to talk.
Players who had survived this long weren’t stupid. They knew asking police, attendants, or the driver to stop early was impossible—who would believe a bunch of students?
To prevent the derailment, they had to find another way.
“Classmate Mu, Classmate Xu, aren’t you coming?” Qi Tianlu walked a few steps, noticed they stayed seated, and quickly returned without hesitation.
Fang Menglei looked around carefully as she spoke. “Qi Tianlu, did you waste all those lectures from Classmate Xu?”
Qi Tianlu scratched his head and began checking his desk and belongings.
Zhao Yuanzhou, Jia Lecheng, and Ming Ruizhao started rummaging as well.
Other passengers watched them, puzzled.
“What are you looking for?”
“Nothing.”
Mu Lantu and Xu Huazhang checked their surroundings, then stood to scan each row, the passengers, and their visible items.
At the junction, other players were debating.
“Time’s too short. Most of us have guns. Let’s just hijack the driver and end it at the root!”
“I’ve got a bomb. Why not just blow off the engine?”
“Don’t be reckless.”
The calm, clear voice drew everyone’s gaze.
Mu Lantu handed over a newspaper.
“What’s this?” one player asked, giving it a cursory glance before tossing it to another.
Mu Lantu frowned. If not for the risk of them interfering with his mission, he wouldn’t waste time on them.
The next player’s face changed. “Recruitment season?”
“So what?” someone asked distractedly.
He answered evenly. “It means this train likely has new recruits on board. If we do anything illegal and passengers report us to them, completing the mission will be much harder.”
Normally, a long-haul train had three or four train police—not much of a concern. But a whole group of fresh soldiers? That was different.
“That’s just your guess.”
“Then we’ll see soon enough.”
“I’m fast, I’ll check the rear!” one male player volunteered.
“I’ll check the front!” another ran off.
Minutes later, one returned pale. “It’s true. A whole carriage of soldiers!”
An entire carriage—over a hundred people.
Zhao Yuanzhou said, “Dungeons don’t give useless clues.”
Ming Ruizhao added, “I remember reading that trains can be stopped in emergencies—like axle fires, major component failures, onboard fires, passengers falling off, someone dying on the tracks, if the driver ignores signals, or if the train enters restricted track without signal clearance… Maybe we can exploit one of these.”
“Should we just start a fire onboard?” someone whispered.
“Don’t. If the driver himself is the problem, even a fire won’t make him stop,” Zhao Yuanzhou warned.
Ming Ruizhao said, “We can use our student identity as an excuse, request to visit the driver’s cab, and naturally gain access.”
Liang Jianming glanced at him, then at Mu Lantu and Xu Huazhang—who still didn’t speak up. “Good idea. Let’s pick a few well-behaved boys and girls to try it.”
Mu Lantu didn’t think it would be that easy. Once sure they wouldn’t do anything rash, he and Xu Huazhang headed toward the front cars.
“Classmate Mu, Classmate Xu, where are you going? Everyone’s working together here!” Jia Lecheng shouted.
The others turned to look, suspicious of their separate move.
Jia Lecheng muttered, “Could they have already figured out a solution?”
At that, suspicion rippled across the crowd.
Xu Huazhang’s sharp gaze pierced Jia Lecheng like arrows.
Jia Lecheng cursed silently but kept an innocent expression. He hadn’t meant to oppose them—he wasn’t that bold. He considered himself clever, with some experience in clearing dungeons. But this mission only had two hours—far too little.
So he had no choice but to bind himself and the others together by pressuring Mu Lantu and Xu Huazhang.
“Hey, have you really found a way?”
A burly man shoved through and stood in front of them.
Several players followed closely, unwilling to be left behind.
Seeing this, the rest surged forward too.
Zhao Yuanzhou, Fang Menglei, and Qi Tianlu coldly glanced at Jia Lecheng, then joined the group.
Sweating, Jia Lecheng hurried after them.
“So what if we have? So what if we haven’t?” Mu Lantu looked indifferently at the burly man, unbothered by his threatening glare.
“What do you think? If you have, spit it out so we can all clear! Otherwise, my fists don’t have eyes!” The man raised his huge fists.
“Is that so? Funny, neither do mine.” Mu Lantu’s punch flashed like lightning, smashing into the man’s nose.
Blood gushed instantly.
“Know what? The thing I hate most is being threatened.” Mu Lantu kicked him again, then turned his blank expression to the others, asking mildly, “Well? You all rushed over—any problems?”
“Hey, classmate…” another man smiled, patting the bulge at his waist. “If you really do have an idea, it’s best to share it.”
