Translator: AnubisTL
During his visit to the Gemini Star of the Kasha Civilization, he not only plundered some resources but also made a detour to the Auction House, picking up a few trinkets.
The Hell Brooch was one of them.
Another decent find was the Instant Mechanical Armament, a special ability for the train.
Its effect was simple:
Upon activation, the entire train would rapidly transform into a massive armed mecha, retaining the train's defensive strength and offensive capabilities. The locomotive would become the chest cavity, serving as the cockpit.
Impressive and stylish.
Instant Armament.
But—
In reality, its primary value lay in its aesthetic appeal. There might not be many situations where this ability would be truly useful. After all, transforming from a train to a mecha didn't inherently increase its strength; it remained the same, only in a different form.
Of course, during his visit to the Peace-Seeking Civilization, he had seen something called the "Mech Master Tournament." If he transformed the Stellaris into a mecha and entered the competition, securing first place should be relatively easy.
Chen Mang wasn't particularly interested in mechs, so he didn't pay much attention to them.
"Not bad," he muttered, curling his lip. He rose and walked to the shower room, washed up, and then lay back on his bed, ready to sleep. It had been a long time since he'd last rested.
The major issues had been resolved.
The Stellaris was now virtually impregnable.
Neither the Zerg Civilization nor the Kasha Civilization posed a significant threat to him. He could finally sleep soundly, leaving other matters for when he woke up.
Kasha Civilization Federation, 27th Galaxy.
The Stellaris train drifted slowly through space. After so much development, its internal layout had undergone significant changes.
For example—
Most of the original residents who had joined the Stellaris from the beginning, as opposed to the later waves of newcomers, had relocated to Aquablue Star. Only those whose work required them to remain on the train continued to live there.
After all, the living conditions on Aquablue Star were undeniably superior to those on the Stellaris.
The terraformed Aquablue Star was now the most habitable planet in the Kasha Civilization Federation, bar none.
To put it in perspective, the other habitable planets were like middle-aged women, while Aquablue Star was a fresh-faced maiden just past twenty, her youthful innocence tinged with a hint of allure, making her utterly irresistible and intoxicating.
Everyone had found work suited to their skills.
"Morning!"
"Morning!"
A group of men in work uniforms emerged cheerfully from the wormhole connecting Aquablue Star to the Stellaris. As they boarded the train, they greeted others before heading toward the Cyber Mine.
The atmosphere was lively.
Inside the carriages, passengers occasionally strolled through the aisles.
The Stellaris no longer felt crowded; its permanent population was relatively small.
"Morning, everyone!"
In Carriage 10, Zhang Yiren, stationed near the Film Studio entrance, couldn't contain his beaming smile as he greeted everyone he saw.
"Yo."
Just then—
Old Pig approached, a stack of documents tucked under his arm. He grinned at Zhang Yiren. "Looks like the box office is doing well. You're practically glowing with happiness!"
"Not bad, not bad," Zhang Yiren grinned back. "Enough to make a living. Lord Mang's direction really made the difference. Hey, Trainmaster Zhu, did you come all this way just to see me?"
"Mm-hmm." Old Pig nodded, handing Zhang Yiren the stack of documents. "These materials contain some core values we want to promote. Remember to incorporate them into your next film. Your influence is considerable now—many people love your movies, calling you the strongest director of the post-apocalyptic generation."
"Those are just exaggerations," Zhang Yiren murmured, a little embarrassed. "So far, I'm the only director around. How can I be the 'strongest'?"
"Alright, alright." Old Pig waved his hand dismissively and continued toward the rear carriages of the train. He had some business to discuss with Uncle Li.
Stellaris, Carriage 4: High-Talent Women's Carriage
This carriage had originally housed two women, Ji Chuchu and Yan Yao, who served Lord Mang's personal needs. Now, eight more had joined them.
These eight women were the Eight Great Fairies, cultivated by the Eight Great Factions of the Black Tortoise Civilization over many years. Each possessed unparalleled grace, surpassing Ji Chuchu and Yan Yao in every aspect—appearance, temperament, and refinement.
They were the epitome of perfection: skilled in matters of intimacy yet untouched by experience.
Their temperament was particularly striking. As cultivators, their bodies were naturally free of impurities, a purity that even multiple sessions in a medical bay couldn't achieve for Ji Chuchu. Their skin glowed with a rosy-white radiance, soft as dew, and emanated a delicate fragrance—absolute goddesses.
Ten such women now resided on the train.
Initially, the eight women had shown slight resistance, but they had gradually grown numb and bewildered.
From a young age, they had known their future mission: to be offered by their sects to a man—a man capable of saving the Black Tortoise Civilization, a man who could turn the tide of fate. Their efforts had always been focused on mastering the arts of music, strategy, calligraphy, and painting.
When they were sent to the Stellaris, a flicker of resistance stirred within them.
After all, they had never even met the man, knew nothing of his appearance, only that he was the joint choice of the Eight Great Sects.
Their destined fate.
But—
They soon realized something was amiss—they were being completely ignored.
Lord Mang showed no interest in them whatsoever.
Let alone the children.
He couldn't even be bothered with the women themselves.
This forced them to question their own allure. They had spent years receiving secret training from an Elder of the Joyous Union Sect, mastering the theory of carnal arts to perfection, though they had never put it into practice.
Yet it seemed they would never get the chance.
Ji Chuchu sat listlessly by the train window, gazing at the breathtaking cosmic scenery. The vast universe was always a sight to behold, like the distant, pale yellow dust clouds that hung in the void. She didn't know how those clouds had formed, but they were undeniably beautiful.
She loved them.
Lord Mang hadn't sought her out in ages.
She felt like she was turning into a stone woman.
The Stellaris train was rapidly advancing, but their carriage seemed to have been abandoned, forgotten by all.
She tried to prove her worth through other means, such as applying for a job. However, when she and Old Pig submitted their request, it was immediately rejected. The unspoken message was clear: she didn't need to work.
"Um..."
Just then—
One of the Eight Great Fairies rose and approached Ji Chuchu cautiously. "Sister Chuchu, does Lord Mang... have some kind of condition? Our sect has medicinal formulas for that."
"No," Ji Chuchu snapped, rolling her eyes. "You're overthinking it. He's simply not interested in you. Even if he did, Stellaris has far more advanced treatments than your sect, and they're more effective too."
She had to admit, though.
The woman before her outshone her in both temperament and looks, leaving Ji Chuchu feeling powerless. She couldn't deny that she was likely to fade into obscurity on the train, eventually being transferred to Aquablue Star after a few years, where she would live out her days as an ordinary person.
Carriage No. 2: Mecha Research Center
Qi Kexiu stood at the experimental workbench, constantly tinkering. He wasn't aiming for a complex train accessory blueprint; he wanted to start with something simple, just to get the ball rolling. Once he had a good foundation, the rest would follow naturally.
Several robots assisted him, their screens scrolling through streams of data—all processed by the research chips.
On the "Unnamed Planet" left behind by the Mechanical Civilization, they discovered numerous research chips, significantly accelerating their research progress. All computational tasks were entrusted to Xiao Ai, whose absurdly high computing power allowed for advanced simulations.
"Simulation failed," Xiao Ai announced, shaking his head as he gazed at the red exclamation mark on the screen. "Blueprint cannot be generated. Parameters are incorrect. Readjusting."
Manufacturing a simple accessory, like a refrigerator or bicycle, was straightforward. But compressing it into an Accessory Blueprint approved by the Cosmic Rules was far more complex, requiring constant parameter adjustments and intensive calculations.
The process could be roughly understood as follows:
Imagine fitting an irregular octagonal prism perfectly into a corresponding groove by adjusting its angles. Once the prism slides smoothly into place, the Accessory Blueprint is successfully generated.
Generally speaking, this process isn't too difficult.
The real challenge lies in creating a truly useful accessory, such as a Doppler Radar. To generate its Accessory Blueprint, you first need to build the actual device, which is no easy feat. Similarly, the Arcanon Light Energy Main Cannon represents a monumental undertaking.
But—
Manufacturing a bicycle or something similar was much simpler.
They had built the bicycle, but were still stuck on the stage of fitting the accessories into the slots. This step was easy for civilizations with a strong foundation, but for their new civilization, starting from scratch, it required extensive experimentation.
Only after determining the corresponding parameters for fitting accessories of different grades into the slots would they truly possess their own foundation.
After that, they would never be stumped by this step again.
The beginning is always the hardest part.
"Oh?"
Xiao Ai, standing nearby, suddenly paused slightly and turned to walk out of the space gate. "The back side of Mining Planet No. 1 has finally been completely excavated. You can work on things here for now. I'll go retrieve the ore."
This mining planet was the first one they encountered after leaving Aquablue Star.
It also provided the first substantial resource that allowed the Stellaris train to venture into space.
At the time, the back side couldn't be mined due to the harsh environment. Lord Mang had stored it in the space gate, using the Stellaris's stellar cabin to create conditions suitable for mining. The train then slowly extracted the resources.
After all this time, and with a significant increase in mining robots, the excavation was finally complete.
One couldn't help but marvel.
For a nascent civilization, encountering a mining star so soon after leaving Aquablue Star was almost miraculous. Without it, they would never have been able to embark on their interstellar journey, lacking the resources to venture beyond their home world.
The universe is vast.
Even after traveling through space for thousands or tens of thousands of years, one would never reach its end.
This holds true even with abundant resources.
Without sufficient resources, however,
progress in the cosmos becomes impossible. A civilization remains confined to its own planet, unable to enter the interstellar era.
Several hours later,
Chen Mang awoke. In the dim light of the locomotive cabin, he sat up in bed and gazed out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the distant, twinkling stars. The glass seemed impossibly clear against the cosmic backdrop.
"Hah..."
He exhaled softly before hastily washing up, then sat back down, lit a cigarette, and began reviewing the Train Log.
This was a habit he had developed long ago.
Though the Train Log now contained little critical information—after all, no monsters could possibly attack his train while he slept—the habit persisted. In addition to the Train Log, he also glanced at the Kasha Daily and the daily reports from several major civilizations in the 27th Galaxy.
This allowed him to better understand what was happening in the region.
Chen Mang propped his feet on the control panel, leaned back in his chair, and flipped through the day's news on the large screen beside him with a remote control.
Much of the news was trivial.
For example:
"Glamorous Queen Gao Yali Officially Announces Marriage to 78-Year-Old Kung Fu Superstar Zhang Qida, Leaving Fans Baffled. Why Would the Queen Marry an Elderly Man at the Peak of Her Beauty? Is This Love?"
This was entertainment news.
Even in an interstellar civilization, the entertainment industry remained a staple. After all, performers had always been an indispensable part of human society.
However, in modern times, their status had been elevated.
Many fans weren't truly obsessed with celebrities, though they often justified their devotion with reasons like "Brother works so hard," "Brother is so amazing," or "Brother is so talented."
The underlying truth was a lack of inner substance. They needed to believe in something to fill that void, so they turned to celebrity worship.
What they were chasing wasn't the stars themselves, but the idealized version of themselves they projected onto those figures.
In this interstellar civilization, actors still held considerable status, enjoying widespread popularity. However, the news headline he saw made him think the journalist needed more experience.
To a news professional from his previous world, this headline was utterly amateurish.
For example:
"Shocking! 28-Year-Old Stunning Queen Marries 78-Year-Old Kung Fu Emperor! Secret Late-Night Photos Leaked—The Fourth One Will Make Your Legs Go Weak!"
"The Truth Behind Marrying a 50-Year-Older Veteran Actor! Gao Yali's Best Friend Spills the Beans After Drinking: His Bedroom Skills Are Even More Impressive!"
"'She's After His Money? No, His Looks!' Netizens Rage as Queen 'Pays' to Marry Aging Superstar—A Single Wedding Photo Reveals a Shocking Secret!"
"Queen Gao Yali Officially Announces Her Marriage! The Groom Is... the Paralyzed Man Confined to Bed?! Insider Claims She's Betting Her Career on True Love!"
Any one of these headlines would instantly crush the one he'd just seen.
How could someone who didn't even understand the three essential elements of journalism—exposure, controversy, and discussion—be working in this field? The professional standards of news professionals in the Kasha Civilization Federation were shockingly low.
They couldn't even use cliffhangers and emotional manipulation to stir up public sentiment. What kind of journalism was this?
However—
"..."
Chen Mang's eyes narrowed slightly as a particular news item caught his attention amidst the numerous headlines:
["Doomsday Planet Discovered at the End of Wormhole #2719: Explorers Flock to the Site."]
A Doomsday Planet?
Just like Aquablue Star during its apocalypse, these planets undergoing their final days were often rich in resources, such as murphy stone, which was produced in abundance during such times.
They also yielded special items, which were even more plentiful on Doomsday Planets.
And most importantly, galaxy maps.
Some Doomsday Planets contained vast legacies left behind by Mechanical Civilizations, with galaxy maps being the most valuable. Obtaining one would instantly make someone incredibly wealthy—no exaggeration.
Selling such a map through a reputable and powerful Auction House would secure a lifetime of comfort and leave plenty to spare.
It was a rare two-way wormhole.
Among the numerous wormholes the Kasha Civilization had opened for free access, most were one-way wormholes—allowing entry but not return. Travelers would have to wait for the war's end to return together. Only a handful were two-way wormholes.
Wormhole 2719 happened to be one of these rare two-way wormholes.
Chen Mang scrolled through the news article, which featured several photos of train conductors beaming with joy after securing their hauls.
Soon, he decided to join the fray.
Let's go see what's what.
Wormhole 2719 was located near the Cilantro Civilization's homeworld in the 27th Galaxy.
He shook his head, reluctantly adjusted course, and pushed the control lever, heading toward the Cilantro Civilization. What kind of ridiculous civilization name is that?
Cilantro Civilization.
Great Onion Civilization.
Next thing you know, there'll be a Sichuan Peppercorn Civilization. Put them all together and you'd have the entire Hot Pot Civilization!
Before long, the Stellaris train approached the Cilantro Civilization. But just as Chen Mang prepared to advance toward the wormhole entrance, he froze. The Doppler Radar screen displayed:
Below, within the Cilantro Civilization, resided a large number of clansmen from the Great Onion Civilization.
After a moment's hesitation, Chen Mang changed course, deciding to visit the Cilantro Civilization first.
He knew the Great Onion Civilization had been destroyed, but Young Master Li had miraculously survived. If these clansmen could be brought back, the Great Onion Civilization might have a chance to rebuild, preventing its complete extinction from the cosmos.
Though Young Master Li hadn't yet proven particularly useful on the train, he was still Chen Mang's follower and Xiao Lu's subordinate beast's master. Out of both sentiment and reason, Chen Mang wouldn't refuse to help those below him when it was convenient, especially now that he possessed the power to do so.
Half an hour later, the Stellaris slowly descended toward the Cilantro Civilization, gradually approaching a large estate nestled in the grasslands.
"Young Master Li," Chen Mang said casually from his seat, "there are many of your Great Onion Civilization clansmen in that estate ahead. I estimate around three thousand. With this many survivors, your civilization might still have a chance to rebuild."
"Take some people and negotiate with them. See if you can buy them back discreetly with money."
"If that doesn't work..."
"Then we'll take direct action."
"That's unlikely," Young Master Li said, shaking his head with a grim expression. "The Cilantro Civilization and the Great Onion Civilization have been mortal enemies since ancient times. We refuse to eat cilantro, and they refuse to eat green onions, both sides utterly despising the taste of the other's staple food."
"Given this irreconcilable conflict, relations between our civilizations have always been strained."
"They must have seen the Great Onion Civilization fall and seized the opportunity to plunder, enslaving countless of our people as a means of revenge."
"Let's go see for ourselves."
Young Master Li said nothing more. He immediately led his armed robots, each topped with a green onion, toward the estate. His eyes burned with fury and indignation. The Great Onion Civilization had already been destroyed, yet the Cilantro Civilization continued to humiliate its surviving clansmen. How could he not be enraged?
The journey was completely unobstructed.
They entered the estate without resistance.
Even the main gate stood wide open.
Just as Young Master Li began to wonder why the estate's defenses were so weak, an elderly man leaning on a cane emerged from the depths of the estate, accompanied by a retinue of servants.
"Old Fei?" Young Master Li paused, a flicker of admiration crossing his eyes. But he quickly suppressed his anger, his voice hoarse as he said, "Old Fei, the Great Onion Civilization is gone. I thank you for sheltering my clansmen. I want to take them back. Name your price."
He had only seen this elder on television before—the former leader of the Cilantro Civilization, whose son now held the position.
A truly formidable old man.
Despite the irreconcilable conflicts between their civilizations, Young Master Li had to admit that Old Fei was a powerhouse. For one thing, he had personally transformed the Cilantro Civilization's Cilantro-growing planet into a thriving tourist destination.
The Great Onion Civilization had two habitable planets: their homeworld and a planet dedicated to growing green onions.
The Cilantro Civilization followed a similar pattern: a homeworld and a planet dedicated to growing cilantro.
By capitalizing on the internet's "love it or hate it" obsession with cilantro, Old Fei had successfully turned the cilantro-covered planet into a must-visit spot. Countless tourists flocked there to take photos, posting them on social media with captions like "Finally, a world entirely covered in cilantro!"
For years, Old Fei had been Young Master Li's role model.
He had dreamed of transforming the Great Onion Civilization's green onion planet into a similar tourist hotspot, which was why he had partnered with Jimei Tourism Company. But just as his plans were gaining momentum, disaster struck.
An accident had directly destroyed his planet.
Old Fei stood motionless, his gaze drifting as he stared at Young Master Li. The cilantro leaves above his head swayed in the breeze. After a long silence, he murmured, "I recognize you. You're the eldest son of the Li Clan. When I met with your father when you were a child, he brought you along. I even held you back then."
"Has it really been so long?"
"What a pity."
"Your father was a good man."
After another long silence, he waved his hand slightly. "The Great Onion Civilization has fallen, and your father is dead. You must now take on the responsibilities of a civilization leader. This position represents not only power but also duty. Power and duty are always intertwined."
"No one can enjoy power without fulfilling their obligations."
"I wasn't happy when the Great Onion Civilization fell. We both understand the principle of 'when the lips are gone, the teeth will be cold.' The Great Onion Civilization and the Cilantro Civilization were roughly equal in strength. Though we had conflicts over the years, they were mostly ideological clashes. There were no major battles or casualties between us."
"However, the core value of our Cilantro Civilization is that we cannot accept anyone who doesn't eat cilantro."
"These survivors from the Great Onion Civilization are under my temporary protection. Since you've come, you can take them all. There's no price; I'm not selling slaves."
Young Master Li's lips moved slightly, but he bowed his head, his eyes rimmed with red. "Thank you."
He hesitated, struggling with his words for a long moment before finally speaking.
"This is the fundamental difference between the Great Onion Civilization and the Cilantro Civilization. We of the Great Onion Civilization may love green onions, but we would never force everyone to eat them. Your Cilantro Civilization, however, insists that everyone must eat cilantro."
"And what's wrong with that?" the elder asked calmly. "If the Cilantro Civilization were a Tier 3 civilization, every civilization—including the Zerg Civilization—would be forced to eat cilantro. Anyone who refused would be detained for fifteen days."
"Enough. Go now."
"The train behind you looks formidable, and you seem destined for great things. This world is growing increasingly chaotic; it belongs to you young people now. We old ones can't keep up."
The brief exchange ended quickly, without conflict. In fact, it was surprisingly harmonious.
Young Master Li led the remaining 3,000 members of the Great Onion Civilization back to the Stellaris train and temporarily settled them on Aquablue Star. When he saw his clansmen, each with a green onion sprouting from their heads, his eyes welled with tears, his rims turning red.
For the first time, he felt like he had a home.
He had always believed he would be utterly alone in the vastness of the cosmos.
"Trainmaster Zhu, please thank Lord Mang for me," Young Master Li said, kneeling on the ground and turning to look at Old Pig, whose eyes were red and voice hoarse.
"Mm, get up now," Old Pig replied, helping Young Master Li to his feet. He gazed at the scene before him and sighed, "I really want to bring more people from the Cilantro Civilization here in the future. I think one day, the Stellaris will be able to gather all the civilizations of the Hot Pot Civilization."
"That would be wonderful."
"Hey, Young Master Li, you said that while the Great Onion Civilization and the Cilantro Civilization have different appearances, they're both fundamentally human. Could they intermarry? Would their offspring be humans with both cilantro and green onion traits?"
"No."
"Why not?"
Young Master Li lowered his voice, his face slightly embarrassed, "In the Great Onion Civilization, the green onion on our heads is a sensitive organ, an indispensable part of foreplay. As for the Cilantro Civilization... they don't eat green onions, and we don't eat cilantro either."
"..."
Old Pig looked up at the stiff green onion atop Young Master Li's head, remaining silent for a long moment before finally saying, "Actually, I don't eat green onions either."
"I know, Trainmaster Zhu. You don't need to explain."
"I really don't eat them."
"I really know."
"Even if I used to eat them, I definitely won't anymore."
"Hmm..."
Doba, PuruPuru, and the others nearby sighed as they watched the scene. Only those who had experienced the extinction of their civilization could truly understand the feeling of finding their clansmen in the vastness of the cosmos.
PuruPuru felt this most deeply.
He had willingly abandoned his long-established Philia Pirate Group to join the Stellaris train, solely because it housed his clansmen—people who made him feel he was no longer alone.
Though the days were now far more tiring than before, the joy of building a city for his civilization still filled him with happiness. His only complaint was:
"Doba, isn't this our Goblin Civilization's city? Why are people from the Great Onion Civilization being housed here?"
"Trainmaster Zhu said it's temporary. They'll be moved out soon."
"You and Trainmaster Zhu need to handle this tactfully. Get them moved out quickly. The proud Goblin Civilization won't tolerate sharing a city with the foolish Great Onion Civilization."
"I know. Also, I'd appreciate it if you started calling me 'Leader' from now on."
"Understood, Leader."
While they sympathized with the Great Onion Civilization's plight, sympathy was one thing; sharing their cities was another matter entirely. He had painstakingly built so many new homes for the future newborns of the Goblin Civilization, not for these Green Onion people.
With this minor incident resolved, the Stellaris train resumed its journey. Shortly after, it passed through wormhole 2719, emerging 3,000 light-years away.
This location was still tens of thousands of light-years from the Zerg Civilization's domain, lying within the buffer zone between the two civilizations—a relatively safe area.
The main combat zone remained within Zerg Territory. The exact state of the conflict remained unclear; the Kasha Daily only reported the outbreak of war, without detailing specific outcomes.
However, through the Doppler Radar, he could glean some insights.
Both sides were still in the probing phase.
Moreover, it was evident that the Zerg Civilization was simultaneously engaged in another war on its opposite flank, leaving them stretched thin and struggling to manage both fronts.
This location served as a logistics hub.
The Doomsday Planet had originally been undetectable.
Many members of the Kasha Civilization Federation had volunteered for the Free Army. Half of them went through the One-Way Wormhole, while the other half traveled through the Two-Way Wormhole. Instead of continuing their journey or joining the battlefield, they lingered at the end of the Two-Way Wormhole, hoping to stumble upon some stroke of fortune.
And they actually did.
That's how the Doomsday Planet was discovered.
"..."
The Stellaris train emerged from the wormhole, accelerating in a fixed direction. As far as the eye could see, a massive steel torrent of trains surged forward. Despite the sheer number of vehicles, there was no sense of crowding.
After all, the universe was vast beyond comprehension.
"Poor civilization," Chen Mang sighed softly. This civilization was already facing its apocalypse, and after this ordeal, it was hard to say how many survivors would remain. If he had faced such a calamity during his own apocalypse, he would have been utterly powerless.
The lowest-tier trains here were nearly as powerful as he had been on Aquablue Star.
Only the truly capable dared to venture into such territory.
Those who came seeking fortune were undoubtedly skilled and resourceful.
He didn't accelerate too quickly.
After all, he wasn't expecting to gain anything significant. Murphy stones and galaxy maps held little value for him. Even if he found Murphy stones, there wouldn't be many, and there was only one galaxy map. He didn't believe he'd be lucky enough to obtain it, especially since he already had one and felt no urgent need for another. The only use for it would be to sell it for a substantial amount of iron ore.
Approximately seven hours later, the Stellaris train successfully arrived at the Doomsday Planet—a pitiful little world orbiting its star.
By now, countless trains had already docked around the planet, nearly encircling it entirely.
"Let's take a look," Chen Mang said, glancing at the information on the target acquisition radar. The strongest train on the Doomsday Planet was only Tier 17, indicating that the apocalypse had occurred relatively recently. Checking train accessory tiers was something the target acquisition radar did more professionally.
As for the other trains nearby, they were all the same—lacking significant strength.
When train tiers were around Tier 20, it was easy to gauge their strength. However, once they reached Tier 27, determining their exact capabilities became much more difficult.
For example, the Stellaris train was currently at Tier 27.
Still not yet Tier 28.
It had been a long time since the last upgrade. In terms of train tier alone, there were several trains in this region with higher tiers than his. But in terms of actual combat strength, all the other trains combined wouldn't stand a chance against him.
Upgrade Requirements: Consume 200,000 units of Tier 3 Iron Ore; require over 5,000 Train Survivors; require a total accessory Tier of over 550; require at least one pink or Seven-Colored Grade Accessory above Tier 50; and require leaving the current planet.
Chen Mang glanced at the upgrade requirements, planning to upgrade the train to its maximum capacity once this matter was resolved. He estimated he could reach Tier 35 without much difficulty and hoped to unlock new features or accessory blueprints.
Just then—
Chen Mang froze, a strange glint flickering in his eyes. He suddenly felt something was off. The survivors on this planet gave him an unsettling feeling.
He switched the screen to Doppler Radar, selected a Survivor Settlement, and zoomed in repeatedly.
This was a human planet.
The human figure gradually filled the entire screen, even the blood vessels becoming clearly visible. He could see the human's eyes were vacant, like those of a living corpse. The figure sat on a bench, its blood vessels bulging prominently.
Moreover...
This wasn't an isolated case. As he switched between screens, he found all the survivors were the same.
He remained silent, saying nothing.
Could these still be human?
They looked like zombies. This planet didn't seem to have any living people left. It appeared the other trains were unaware of this situation, suggesting the explorers weren't responsible.
Perhaps...
A sudden possibility flashed through his mind.
How had the apocalypse formed?
It originated from the Zerg Civilization's expansion. The Zerg had scattered countless Zerg eggs across the cosmos. When these eggs landed on a planet, that world would face its doom. If the planet had also received the Mechanical Civilization's Oppurtunity, it would gain the means to create trains and seal monsters in different zones, giving the civilization a chance to survive.
But if the civilization hadn't received the Mechanical Civilization's Oppurtunity, it would be on the brink of annihilation.
The Zerg Civilization had various motives for this behavior.
One of them was resource mining.
If high-grade resource mines were nearby, making a visit worthwhile, the Zerg Civilization would use the Zerg eggs' coordinates to open wormholes and deploy their armies. In other words, every Doomsday Planet was a potential wormhole activation point for the Zerg Civilization.
The humans on this planet gave Chen Mang the impression that the world had succumbed to the apocalypse long ago. The Zerg Civilization had meticulously disguised the planet, leaked its coordinates, lured in waves of explorers, and then opened a wormhole to deploy their main forces.
The moment this thought flashed through his mind, Chen Mang didn't hesitate. He immediately turned the Stellaris around and sped away, abandoning any desire to explore further. He had no intention of being dragged into war in this manner. With the Stellaris's current capabilities, it was fully capable of intervening in conflicts on its own terms.
But he preferred to initiate such interventions himself, rather than being forced into them.
To him, there was a clear distinction.
Yet he couldn't understand why the Zerg Civilization would go to such lengths just to kill a few explorers. What was the point?
What puzzled him most was how the Zerg Civilization Mother Empress could possess such cunning to devise such an elaborate trap. He had always believed the Zerg Civilization to be a swarm of monsters driven solely by instinct.
Within minutes,
The Stellaris, accelerating at full speed, had already covered a considerable distance.
But just then—
A wormhole suddenly materialized ahead of the Stellaris. No, it wasn't just one—dozens of wormholes simultaneously appeared in its path. At such high speed, the Stellaris had no time to evade and crashed headfirst into them!
The instant the train collided, Chen Mang's expression shifted slightly.
It's over.
This is a fucking two-way wormhole!
The train hurtled through the wormhole, now unable to turn back. Even a two-way wormhole couldn't allow for a U-turn within its confines. He even clearly saw massive Zerg motherships brushing past him within the tunnel.
Though no communication occurred, he could sense a palpable sense of confusion emanating from the Zerg motherships.
Heavenly Father...
He had never imagined he would enter the Zerg Civilization's domain in such a manner.
Soon—
The wormhole reached its end. The Stellaris, like a mechanical dragon, burst forth into an unfamiliar stretch of space. Countless planets clustered around them, and the sky swarmed with Zerg motherships.
His lone mechanical train, suddenly appearing here, stood out conspicuously.
Where is this...?
Zerg Hive.
He had arrived where even Commander Li hadn't reached—the very heart of Zerg Territory.
Chen Mang's lips twitched slightly. Seizing the moment while the Zerg motherships and the countless monsters floating in space were still stunned, he didn't hesitate. He immediately reversed the locomotive and plunged back into the wormhole behind him.
His speed was astonishing, so swift that no one could react.
Only as he resumed his journey through the wormhole did he finally exhale in relief. What the hell was that all about? he thought. How did I run into them so quickly?
Before leaving, while the Zerg were still reeling, he casually tossed a few refrigerators out of the train.
(End of the Chapter)
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