Just then, the train whistle shrieked. The train had begun to move slowly forward. Suddenly, Sun Fatty turned to me and said, "Lazi, we're not allowed into the first three cars. Min Tianyuan is in the first one, and just now Xiao Heshang entered the second. So who's in the third? Don't tell me Gao Liang is already in there?"
His interruption thoroughly shattered my train of thought—I could no longer recall who that soul beside Xiao Heshang was.
"If you told me Wu Rendi was in the third car, I might believe you. But it definitely isn't the Chief." I pointed at a group of people outside the window.
Sun Fatty followed my finger. Sure enough, Gao Liang and his team were still standing on the platform, watching our train slowly roll out. As the train picked up speed, they—and the entire warehouse—soon disappeared into the darkness.
After departure, the Soul-filled car remained just as deathly silent. The shifting scenery outside the window failed to catch the attention of even one of them. Whether seated or standing, every single one of these souls had their heads drooped low, their lifeless eyes fixed motionlessly on their feet. Over a hundred of them holding that same posture—it was suffocating. Even for us four from the Bureau of Paranormal Investigation, the sight was enough to unsettle the heart.
Amid these departed souls, I suddenly noticed a familiar figure. This one was grotesquely bloated, its body still dripping wet, water seeping from its hair. Had it not suddenly raised its head and looked at me, I might never have remembered this "familiar face" with whom I had only crossed paths once. It seemed to recognize me too. The moment our eyes met, it hastily dropped its head again—like it wished it could bury its face between its knees.
Sun Fatty noticed my reaction. He followed my gaze and spotted the bloated ghost. Turning to me, he asked, "Lazi, you know this one? An old friend who drowned?"
I sneered in the ghost's direction and said to Sun Fatty, "Dàshèng, remember that story I told you about almost getting dragged under as a kid? That time when a water ghost tried to take me as its substitute?"
"You mean this guy?! Damn, this world really is small." Sun Fatty glanced between me and the ghost, then gave me a mischievous wink. "Lazi, if you want to take care of this, go right ahead. I'll pretend I didn't see anything. Don't worry, Xiong Wanyi and Ximen Lian are our people too. We'll just say the water ghost tried to jump off the train—we had no choice but to… you know."
"Know your ass." I sighed. "Forget it. It's been so many years. Besides, nothing really happened back then—just scared the crap out of me. I had to pour a whole bucket of dog's blood on myself, stank for days and didn't dare wash it off. I flunked three subjects in the final exams that year, got a beating from my dad back home, and my Third Uncle stayed to look after me, missing his chance to get into the military academy… You! Water ghost! Yeah, you! Don't pretend you can't hear me. Get over here!"
By now, Xiong Wanyi and Ximen Lian had noticed the commotion, clearly confused. Xiong Wanyi called out, "Lazi, what's going on? Who are you talking to?"
Sun Fatty answered for me, "Don't worry, Xiong Wannabe—it's a personal grudge of Lazi's. And the rest of you…" he said, whipping out the Bureau-issued telescopic baton with a sharp flick. He pointed at the surrounding souls with it and barked, "This is personal. Doesn't concern the rest of you. If you don't want to be obliterated, clear the area!"
As soon as Sun Fatty's voice dropped, the souls surrounding the water ghost immediately scattered with a whoosh, leaving a wide circle of space around it.
Sun Fatty leaned in and whispered to me, "Lazi, don't use your gun—we're short on ammo, and you'll have to write a report if you fire it. Use your short sword, or even the baton. And don't worry about the headcount—with a hundred-plus wrongful deaths in this car, one or two missing won't even be noticed."
Honestly, he looked even more excited than I did. I, on the other hand, suddenly felt a bit trapped. Originally, I just wanted to call the water ghost over and curse it out. Maybe give it a kick. After all, it didn't really hurt me back then. The fact that it was still a wrongful-death ghost all these years later meant it hadn't gone after anyone else for a body. It hadn't committed any great evil. Not really worth scattering its soul over.
By now, the Drowned ghost had already slid off the seat onto the floor. He was half-lying on the ground, trembling all over. Sun Fatty stood by, still fanning the flames. Lately he'd taken a liking to Wang Yuebo's storytelling, and right then he quoted a few lines: "To rid the hate from your heart, draw your sword and strike your foe. Lazi, stop being so polite—just get on with it!" As he said this, he gave me a shove from behind.
Taking advantage of that push, I stepped forward. But before I could do anything, a familiar voice rang out from within the carriage: "Xiao Lazi, Sun Dasheng—what the hell are you two doing?"
That voice could only belong to Xiao Heshang. Following the sound, we spotted a small camera and an embedded speaker in the ceiling of the carriage. The voice was coming through the speaker. Sun Fatty made a face at the camera and muttered to me, disgruntled, "That's it, game over. Not saying it's a bad idea, but who the hell thought of putting surveillance in here?" Judging by his reaction, you'd think he was the one who got scared half to death by the Drowned ghost.
Sun Fatty and I returned to our seats, while the gathered souls slowly drifted back to theirs. The Drowned ghost leaned weakly against his seat, still staring at me in terror. I let out a cold snort and turned my head toward the window—only to catch something unusual out of the corner of my eye. In the darkness outside, a few motorcycles kept overtaking our train. Because of the dark, they weren't going fast—barely faster than a bicycle. I hadn't noticed earlier, too focused on the ghosts in the car. But now I realized: this train was crawling forward at an unusually slow speed. Weren't we in a rush to deliver these souls to the underworld? At this rate, we'd be better off taking a bus.
"Don't bother staring, Lazi—this train's always like this." Sun Fatty chuckled, watching my expression. Apparently, he'd already noticed the train's sluggish pace. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offered me one, and lit one for himself. Blowing out a smoke ring, he said lazily, "It's a relic from the fifties or sixties. Way past retirement age. And it's dragging over twenty carriages. The fact it's even moving is a miracle. Not saying anything, but don't go comparing it to a high-speed train."
"Dasheng, weren't you in narcotics before? How the hell do you even know the lifespan of trains? Even a railroad cop might not know that," I said, surprised by how much he seemed to know about the train. It hit me then—I'd always been the one sharing my past with him, but when it came to his, Sun Fatty had rarely mentioned anything.
Sun Fatty let out a chuckle, glanced over the ghosts, and said, "Back when I graduated from the police academy, I interned with the railway police for a bit. At the time, train engineers were paid way better than cops. You know how it is—I didn't have any relatives, and being a train driver seemed like a solid gig. I even studied a few days of train theory, properly. But when the internship ended, somehow I got transferred to Narcotics. Not saying it's bad, but if not for that twist of fate, I might be the one driving this train right now."
At the end, he gave a half-smile, like he was reminiscing about a lost opportunity. I was about to tease him a little more when suddenly a burst of gunfire erupted from the carriage ahead. The shots had barely stopped when all four of us jumped to our feet. Xiong Wanyi and Ximen Lian had already drawn their sidearms. Sun Fatty and I quickly unfastened our holsters. Just then, another round of gunshots rang out, followed by blood-curdling screams. The souls in our carriage began to stir; the ones who had been hanging their heads now raised them one by one, their pale, empty eyes fixed on the door behind Sun Fatty and me.
Xiong Wanyi called out, "Sounds like something's going down in the next carriage—be careful, you two!"
Just then, Xiao Heshang's voice came again through the speaker: "Shen La, Sun Dasheng—get to the next carriage and help stabilize the situation! Xiong Wanyi and… what's-his-name, you two hold down this car!"
No sooner had he spoken than the tightly shut door in front of me slid open. Someone on the other side shouted, "We need backup—" but didn't finish the sentence before another gunshot cut him off.
There was no time to lose. I drew my gun and charged forward. Sun Fatty followed close behind. The moment we entered the next carriage, the only word that came to mind was: chaos.
The ghosts in this carriage had gone completely berserk, clawing and biting one another. The four investigators assigned to guard the car each had a baton in one hand and a pistol in the other, swinging wildly and firing at the most frenzied ghosts. Though each shot dissolved a ghost on the spot, they couldn't separate the crazed crowd. Worse, the ghosts were now beginning to turn their attacks toward the investigators.
One ghost got right up behind an investigator—he didn't even have time to turn around. Just as the ghost was about to enter him, I fired a shot. The bullet passed cleanly through the ghost's head, then hit another's face behind it, smashed the window, and flew out. Both ghosts shrieked and dissipated into thin smoke.
At this point, a third of the ghosts were gone. But the rest showed no signs of stopping; they were still locked in vicious combat. At this rate, we'd end up having to destroy every last one—either by our hands or by their own.
Sun Fatty whipped out his baton and began lashing away, back and forth through the crowd. Even vengeful souls with heavy resentment couldn't withstand more than a few strikes. While swinging, he shouted to a familiar investigator, "Old Mo—what the hell happened here?"
The man he called Old Mo cursed and shouted back, "Everything was fine just a minute ago—then all of a sudden they went crazy! They all jumped up and started brawling. At first, they were just tearing into each other, then some of them came at us! Damn it, looks like a damn gang war in here!" He raised his baton and whacked two snarling ghosts who were locked in combat.
We'd barely dealt with half the ghosts in this car when gunfire erupted from the one behind us. A moment later, we heard Xiong Wanyi shouting, "Lazi! Sun Fatty! Get back here, now!"
His shout startled me. I turned sharply and saw that chaos had erupted in our own carriage too. Around ten or so ghosts near the edge of the car were attacking each other like lunatics. Most of the others had fled to the far end, cowering together in terror, even ignoring the presence of Xiong Wanyi and Ximen Lian. The two investigators had already shot a few of the wildest ghosts, but it wasn't helping—those still standing were still tearing into each other like mad.
I didn't have many bullets left in my pistol, and we still had no idea what was going on up ahead. I didn't want to waste my spare magazine, so I holstered the gun and drew my family heirloom—a short sword passed down from my third uncle.
Buzz...
As soon as the sword left its sheath, it began to hum. I'd never seen it do that before—not once had my uncle mentioned anything like this either. At the same time, I felt a powerful force pulling the blade toward the right side of the carriage.
I looked in that direction and saw two ghosts still grappling on the floor. One of them was clearly losing, yet he was sneaking glances at me. The moment his eyes landed on my sword, a faint reddish gleam flashed across his pupils.
This one was a problem.
He wasn't actually out of control—he was pretending. I lunged forward, blade in hand, aiming straight at him.
Just as I took the first step, Sun Fatty shouted behind me, "Block your ears!"
Before I could react, a piercing, gut-wrenching cry echoed through the entire carriage:
"Nyeh!…"
My mind went blank. When I came to, I was collapsed on the floor, weak all over. That meow didn't have the same power as the one back in Tianshan, not as loud, not as strong—but still enough to knock me down. I could barely push myself upright again. When I looked back, I saw Sun Fatty lying on his back, twitching, an MP3 player clenched in his hand.
No need to guess—he was the one who played the sound. But before using a wide-area weapon like that, could he at least give me some damn warning?
When he saw me stand up, he opened his mouth wide, took a moment to gather breath, and said, "Get over here… give me a hand…"
"You can lie there and cool off for a bit," I muttered bitterly, then turned my gaze back to that suspicious ghost.
Every soul in both carriages had been slammed against windows and doors by that single cry. Now they were frozen in place like statues, holding whatever positions they'd been in at the moment of the sound.
In the middle of them all, I quickly picked out the ghost from earlier. His color had changed—like clothes that had been washed too many times. He'd faded from deathly gray to ashen white, like cigarette ash. His eyes stared blankly ahead, unmoving, and just like the others, he'd lost the ability to move.
Looks like that "Nyeh" call might have weakened in effect against humans—but it still packed its original punch when used on ghosts.
I walked up to him, raised my short sword, and brought it down on his head.
ghosts don't have physical bodies, so it felt like swinging at air. I'd used too much strength and nearly stumbled. As the blade passed through his head, a wave of nauseating stench filled the air. The ghost's color shifted again—from ashen white to deathly pale—before slowly fading away, finally vanishing into the air.