Twenty minutes later, the train arrived at North City Station.
The scene echoed the chaos that had gripped previous stops—the platform teemed with people. Yet the train did not halt; it pressed forward, cutting through the station, leaving behind outreaching hands grasping in vain.
For seven continuous hours, the train journeyed without pause, the sky darkening into night. Those perched upon the roof endured biting winds for hours, each shivering violently in the cold.
"This is the wilderness now—why won't the train stop?"
"I'm so cold and hungry…"
Sobbing softly…
Eric herself was chilled to the bone, pulling her collar tight around her, her mind racing over the path ahead.
Where lay the sanctuary's glow?
Lost in thought, she suddenly felt a firm grip upon her arm.
A trembling youthful voice quavered with alarm: "Sis, sister! Look! Look at that!"
Following the girl's pointed finger, Eric turned her gaze toward the train's direction—and there, looming ahead, sprawled a vast shroud of gray-black toxic fog.
Her expression darkened abruptly. The train's engineer evidently noticed too, slamming on the emergency brakes. An ear-splitting screech rang out as sparks flew from the rails.
"Bang!"
"Get ready to jump—time to run!" Eric twisted her stiff neck, and as the train continued to slide forward from inertia, she leapt off, tumbling across the ground before rising unsteadily. After a few faltering steps regaining balance, she surged forward, accelerating into a frantic run.
More passengers began to leap from the train—some jumping from the doors, others from the windows—each desperate to flee the encroaching toxic fog ahead.
Clutching the compass acquired from previous missions, Eric appeared lost in thought, but in truth, she meticulously memorized routes and bearings. She could not endeavor toward the original city—it was a death trap. As she ran, her mind parsed escape strategies until she veered left, toward an expansive wheat field, beyond which the silhouette of a town emerged.
None could match her pace as she bolted through the golden stalks, a piece of chocolate melting softly in her mouth, unaware that the locomotive behind had succumbed entirely to the toxic haze. The sturdy engine groaned and creaked as corrosion devoured it, the carriages steadily consumed inch by inch.
The overcrowded cars could not empty swiftly; many perished within, their bodies reduced to pools of blood.
The grisly tableau was a human tragedy; those slower to flee who glanced back confronted this horror, legs buckling beneath them in terror, powerless to rise, ultimately swallowed by the creeping fog.
The townsfolk remained oblivious to the catastrophe unfolding near the tracks. Eric slipped through the wheat fields into the settlement, hearing news broadcasts on the streets reporting on the toxic fog engulfing South City. Passersby stopped to listen, exchanged opinions, wholly unaware of the imminent peril closing in.
As the first to enter the town, Eric withheld this grim knowledge; she needed to depart swiftly before chaos erupted.
The tranquil, serene town exuded the comforting aromas of evening meals drifting through the dusk.
Employing the same ruthless tactic, Eric knocked unconscious an NPC preparing to alight and seized the vehicle. Noticing the fuel gauge nearing empty, she resolved first to refuel—and, if possible, to stash gasoline at the supermarket.
Searching the NPC, she retrieved a wallet containing a modest sum of cash, identification, bank cards, and a fuel card.
"How much credit is on this fuel card? What's the password?" Eric roused the car owner, brandishing the firearm she had obtained during the sacrificial plane mission.
It was her first time wielding it; she had not even dared to disengage the safety previously.
The driver, unaware of her inexperience, complied under the threat of the gun, revealing the fuel card's balance and password, and even volunteering his bank card's code.
Once the interrogation concluded, Eric rendered him unconscious once more.
Her knowledge of lethal strikes, acquired in the abandoned laboratory mission, made her wary of targeting the back of the neck. The technique to incapacitate without killing, however, she had learned from Aaron in this very mission—and her first attempt proved successful.
The gas station was devoid of other customers, allowing Eric to fill a canister with ease. Lacking identification, she was unable to purchase bulk gasoline and had to abandon the idea. After parking in a secluded spot, she siphoned fuel from the tank and drove to another station to refill.
As she prepared to repeat the process at the next station, the car's radio broadcasted a warning to the townsfolk: "Please evacuate in an orderly manner. The recommended routes are as follows…"
The town, just settling into nightfall, erupted into chaos.
Abandoning any further exploitation of the mission's resources, Eric pressed the accelerator, swiftly exiting the town along the broadcasted evacuation route before disorder could ensue.
This marked her first solo drive since obtaining her license. Initially nervous, she soon grew accustomed to the feel of the wheel as she merged onto the highway.
The highway was already bustling, though thankfully not yet congested.
"A novice driver should have a companion on their first highway journey…" Eric murmured, recalling her driving lessons, a nostalgic smile tugging at her lips. Ten days into the game, it felt as though years had passed. Indeed, as Daniel had said, prolonged survival under constant tension tested one's mental fortitude. For now, she retained clarity, but what if, after years or even decades, the memories of reality faded under the grind of missions? Would she still cling to the fierce ambition to resurrect that had driven her at the start?
Perhaps it was time to increase her daily mission quota; the points from two ordinary missions were insufficient.
After a month of ordinary missions, she resolved to venture into a supernatural one.
With this decision, Eric exhaled in relief.
Three hours later, still on the highway, traffic began to thicken, and Eric experienced her first gridlock.
The car radio remained a lifeline, continuously updating the toxic fog's expanding reach.
The fog loomed just over a hundred kilometers behind, having breached the highway's access roads. Those yet to escape the area were forced to seek alternate routes.
Ahead, vehicles gradually came to a halt, and Eric had no choice but to brake.
Traffic inched forward like snails, and after half an hour, it ground to a complete standstill.
Climbing onto the car roof, Eric peered ahead, spotting a distant blaze—likely a collision. Drawing on past experience, she knew it was time to abandon the vehicle, but this time she hesitated. The tank was still full, and the car was new; it could prove useful in future missions.
Returning to her seat, Eric swiftly disguised herself, wrapping up tightly before cautiously exiting and crawling beneath the car. She edged backward, slipping under the vehicle behind. Due to the congestion, the cars were close, their bumpers nearly touching. From beneath the rear car, she reached out, her hand brushing the front vehicle, and with a swift motion, stored it in her inventory.
Unconcerned with the NPCs' shock and terror at the car's sudden disappearance, Eric crawled along the highway's edge, soon reaching the guardrail. She vaulted over it and began to run.
"Did you see that? The car vanished!"
"I saw it! So strange—did anyone catch it on camera?!"
The path beyond the guardrail was crowded with people on foot. Eric blended in seamlessly, unencumbered by luggage, and quickly outpaced the others.
After running for over ten minutes, she reached the site of the accident. A glance sufficed; she did not linger. Suddenly, a deafening explosion erupted behind her. Turning, she saw flames erupting hundreds of meters away, illuminating half the sky.
NPCs spilled from their vehicles, faces etched with fear and confusion.
"How could there be such a massive fire?"
"Was it a fuel tanker explosion?"
The blasts continued, the inferno drawing nearer, clearly engulfing nearby vehicles. Eric turned away and pressed on, unsure of her destination. Where was the sanctuary's glow?
Three days later, driven once more to change course by the relentless fog, Eric was utterly exhausted, yet she resisted using a healing kit.
By now, she had abandoned any sense of direction; the compass offered no guidance. She simply fled wherever the fog was absent. Often, within an hour or two of finding a safe haven, news of the fog's encroachment would reach her.
She was perpetually on the move—taking buses, riding bicycles, avoiding subways for their lack of easy escape routes. In chaotic areas, she drove cars, motorcycles—indeed, this mission had equipped her with three new modes of transport. If she survived, it would be a significant gain.
Yet, even with her optimism, Eric was nearing her limit.
On the fifth day of the mission, she entered another city, spotting a plane streaking across the sky, its contrail etching a long, white line.
An idea crystallized: she would take a plane.
"How to get aboard?" Eric murmured, gazing at the contrail. She decided to head to the airport first.
The city's atmosphere was tense. Stashing her car, Eric hailed a taxi to the airport.
"Lots of people heading to the airport—do you have a ticket?"
"No, just trying my luck," Eric replied, then asked, "Why are you still working? Aren't you afraid of the fog?"
"Ha! This is when the money's good! The fog's deadly, but so's debt. I've got bills to pay!"
An hour later, they arrived at the airport. Just before exiting, the taxi's radio announced the fog's approach, turning the driver pale. "The fog's really here? Damn it!" Fear and anticipation warred on his face as he sped off, eager for lucrative fares.
Eric watched him go, then entered the airport.
The terminal was crowded, the next flight departing in twenty minutes. Amid the controlled chaos, Eric sought a way to sneak aboard. Yet, the airport's strict security thwarted her—without a ticket or ID, she couldn't even reach the boarding gate.
Frustrated, she stood still for a moment, her gaze falling on the luggage conveyor belt.
Luggage.
Cargo hold.
Pursing her lips, Eric melted into the crowd.
After considerable effort, she replaced a baggage handler whose build closely matched hers. Donning the uniform and a mask, she became nearly indistinguishable.
Most in the airport wore masks, as if the thin fabric could offer some psychological shield against the flesh-devouring fog. Eric pushed luggage onto the plane, each step fraught with tension.
"Liu."
Someone called her.
Eric turned slowly.
A masked colleague, also pushing luggage, urged her, "Hurry up. The flight's departing early."
She dared not speak, merely nodding in response.