Natalie's terrified eyes followed Lucas as he stepped closer, his calmness chilling her to the bone.
She didn't notice the gleam of the blood-stained kitchen knife he had quietly pulled from his chest holster.
Her voice broke, trembling with fear and desperation.
"Please… please help me…"
By now, the strange transparency had spread up to her thighs, the faint shimmer creeping higher every second. Her body was being erased by some unseen force, piece by piece.
Lucas crouched beside her, his tone unsettlingly calm.
"Bear with it," he said softly, "it might hurt a little."
Natalie's eyes widened in confusion.
"What do you—?"
Before she could finish, the blade flashed.
With perfect precision, Lucas brought the knife down across the fading line between solid flesh and ghostly transparency. His wrist turned slightly, like an artist slicing through canvas. The motion was clean, practiced, and horrifyingly decisive.
There was a soft, wet sound — shhk! — followed by a muffled thud.
Natalie collapsed to the floor.
Her blood pooled quickly beneath her, staining the once-clean carpet a dark crimson.
For a moment, she didn't even scream. The pain lagged behind the act itself, traveling slowly along her frayed nerves until it finally detonated in her mind.
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her body trembled violently as the agony overwhelmed her senses.
Can this even be called a little pain? she thought dimly, before her mind went blank.
Lucas exhaled through his nose, watching carefully. Then, with a measured tone, he murmured:
"The transparency… stopped."
The spreading ghostly effect had halted at the severed edge. The curse that sought to pull Natalie into the Ghost Express had been broken — at a terrible cost.
Lucas wiped the blade on his sleeve and sheathed it again. His expression remained completely indifferent.
"If you lose your legs," he said coldly, "you won't be able to run. And if you can't run… you won't trigger the curse again."
A metallic ding chimed in his mind.
[System Prompt: Player Lucas has helped Natalie escape the Ghost Express and completed the Hidden Mission.]
[Reward Acquired: Orient Express Admission Ticket]
> Item Name: Orient Express Admission Ticket
Type: Plot-related
Quality: Excellent
Attack Power: None
Attribute: Space
Description: Everyone has their own train — the difference lies in where it leads. A gift from Natalie. Allows entry to the Orient Express once per day. A good way to avoid the dangers around you.
Warning: The Orient Express is not a paradise. Exercise caution when boarding.
The whistle outside the train shrieked again, echoing through the night like a wailing spirit.
Inside the carriage, chaos had reached its peak — passengers were screaming, sobbing, and clutching one another in blind panic.
Finally, a team of uniformed flight attendants appeared, attempting to restore order.
"Please return to your seats!" one shouted over the noise. "Do not leave your compartments! Everything is under control!"
Of course, it wasn't.
One of the attendants — a young man with a practiced smile — guided a frightened family back into their cabin, reassuring them softly. As he turned toward Lucas's compartment, his smile froze.
He saw Natalie on the floor, pale as paper, her lower half gone.
Blood was everywhere.
The attendant's eyes widened. "S-sir… what happened here?"
Lucas didn't hesitate. He looked him straight in the eye and said flatly,
"She was about to be pulled into the Ghost Express. So I cut off her legs."
The words landed like thunder. The attendant's face twitched — not with horror, but confusion.
Natalie stirred faintly, letting out a weak moan as her body convulsed in pain.
The attendant glanced at her, then at Lucas, and after a tense silence, waved for assistance.
Another crew member hurried over, and together, they carefully lifted Natalie onto a stretcher.
Lucas stood in the doorway, watching them leave. The strange thing was, neither of them accused him.
No one asked for an explanation. No one even looked angry.
Instead, both attendants avoided his eyes as if he wasn't really there.
Lucas frowned slightly. "That expression… it wasn't shock," he muttered. "It was recognition."
He turned back toward the interior of his compartment, tapping the wooden door with his fingers thoughtfully.
"Why take her away and not question me? What are they hiding?"
His gaze fell on the small, framed notice near the doorway — [Instructions for Travelers] — now smeared and partially scratched out.
He narrowed his eyes. "Is it connected to that crossed-out part…?"
The noise outside gradually began to fade. The train's violent rocking softened, and the eerie sense of motion slowed.
Lucas turned toward the window — the darkness outside had lightened slightly.
The Ghost Express had finally passed.
Only the vast, frozen wasteland remained, bathed in pale moonlight.
A heavy stillness settled over the Snowpiercer. The survivors in each carriage began whispering, weeping quietly in relief.
For the first time in hours, silence reigned.
But peace on this train never lasted long.
A soft chime played through the loudspeaker, followed by a calm voice:
"Dear passengers, we are approaching our next stop — Dog Town Station.
Passengers disembarking at Dog Town, please prepare to alight. Remember to bring all personal belongings."
The brakes hissed, slowing the train.
Lucas bent down and picked up the fallen oil painting that Natalie had knocked over earlier. He dusted off the shattered glass and rehung it on the wall.
In the lower-left corner of the frame, written in delicate script, were the words:
"Sistine Madonna."
He adjusted the frame until it was perfectly straight, then returned to his seat.
Outside, the train screeched as it slowed further, finally halting beside the platform.
The bright lamps along the station bathed the area in golden light. But beyond the reach of that glow, darkness stretched endlessly, thick and suffocating.
Then came a heavy click — the sound of a door unlatching.
The radio crackled again:
"The train will remain at this station for fifteen minutes. Passengers are advised not to leave the train or wander the platform."
Lucas glanced at the small table.
Natalie's luggage still sat there, her cup of hot water half-full, steam fading into the cold air.
He exhaled. "She didn't even take her bag."
Once again, the speaker repeated mechanically, "Passengers are advised not to disembark or walk around…"
Suddenly, the lights flickered.
The crystal chandelier above him began to sway slightly, casting shadows across the walls. Then, without warning, every bulb went out.
Darkness consumed the cabin.
For a few seconds, the only light came from the faint glow of the platform outside — enough to barely outline the seats, the door, the frost on the window.
Startled gasps echoed throughout the train. Doors opened and closed. People whispered in panic.
Lucas gripped the handle of his kitchen knife again, the blade glinting faintly in the dim light.
"Looks like I'm not the only one who lost power," he murmured, scanning the corridor.
Then the intercom crackled to life once more, its voice robotic and toneless:
"Passengers, please remain in your compartments. Do not leave your seats. The train will resume its journey in approximately eleven minutes."
The air inside the carriage suddenly turned frigid. Frost spread rapidly across the windows, the thin ice crackling softly.
Lucas could see his own breath now, misting in the air.
The cup on the table began to freeze over. Thin webs of ice snaked along the rim.
Within seconds, the once-hot water had turned solid.
He could feel something pressing against the edges of reality — the same cold, invisible presence as before.
His senses sharpened. Every muscle tensed.
Footsteps.
They echoed faintly from the corridor outside. Tap… tap… tap…
Slow, deliberate.
Lucas turned toward the sliding door, his hand tightening around the knife.
No one was supposed to be boarding. The station was closed. The crew had warned everyone to stay put.
And yet — the sound was unmistakable.
Footsteps. Getting closer.
Passengers in nearby compartments fell silent, holding their breath. Someone whispered a prayer. Another sobbed quietly.
The temperature continued to drop. Frost crept over the handle of Lucas's door, shimmering faintly in the weak light.
Then—
"Ding! The little author has boarded the train!"
The eerie system message echoed in his mind, cutting through the silence like laughter in a graveyard.
Lucas's eyes narrowed. He raised the knife and stepped toward the door.
"Another passenger… or something else?"
Outside, the footsteps stopped right in front of his compartment.
A shadow lingered just beyond the frosted glass, unmoving.
The silence was unbearable.
Then — the handle slowly began to turn.
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