Apocalypse: I Built the Infinite Train

As soon as the words left her mouth, the tension in the laboratory rose instantly. All eyes turned to Ding Junyi. After some thought, they all understood—this rundown lab had no real bargaining chips. They had no choice but to rely on Ding Junyi’s analysis. She stepped forward without hesitation and stated directly:

“We have Level P3 management clearance for the underground city. Aside from a few restricted zones, we can grant you access to residential areas, commercial districts, entertainment zones, industrial sectors, storage levels, animal and plant conservation areas, cultural heritage sites, research facilities, and all major transit routes. Despite the mass exodus, an underground city built for tens of thousands of people couldn’t have been completely emptied in an emergency evacuation. There are bound to be valuable resources left behind.”

“Additionally, we know the location of a Gemini 11R Nuclear Electric Locomotive. This train is equipped with a DRX micro-nuclear power reactor, boasting a thermal output of 290 megawatts. Lastly, if you need research data from our biological laboratory, we can provide it—but we’d need a mutual confidentiality agreement to avoid political persecution from the Federal Government.”

She laid out all their bargaining chips in one go.

Beside her, Xu Wen looked uneasy and muttered in a low voice,

"Should we… mention the third thing?"

Despite her initial reluctance, now that she was in a real negotiation, she felt desperate to spill everything in exchange for survival.

“No need,” Ding Junyi replied coolly, lifting her finger off the responder button. “If they agree to rescue us, we’ll gain the right to live—but we’ll also lose every other right. Once they get us out, we’ll have no say in what happens to us.”

Everyone here was an ordinary civilian, completely powerless. Given their circumstances, they had to see Lin Xian’s group as both potential saviors and possible marauders.

Zhao Yan gave him an incredulous look.

“Professor Han, are you out of your mind? You think Director Ding was talking about those three girls? Have you seen the two-meter-tall giant standing with them?”

“WHAT?!”

Han Qiming’s face turned green. His legs trembled. “N-no way…”

Ding Junyi pinched the bridge of her nose, exasperated by their misplaced concerns.

Hearing Ding Junyi’s words, Lin Xian and KIKI’s eyes lit up.

“My god, a Gemini 11R Nuclear Electric Locomotive! Whoa!” KIKI exclaimed. “Lin Xian, this sounds like a jackpot.”

Lin Xian smirked, exchanging glances with Chen Sixuan and the others.

“This woman is smart. But if you think about it, she’s only offering permissions and information—no actual supplies.”

A massive underground city after an emergency evacuation would undoubtedly have leftover resources. But this was too vague to be valuable. Lin Xian’s group already assumed they’d find supplies inside—the problem was whether the risks were worth it. The nuclear-powered train, however, was a tangible prize.

But the fact that Ding Junyi brought it up directly made Lin Xian feel like she had somehow guessed his objective.

“If that’s the case, we don’t need them at all. Give me some time, and I can hack into the system myself.” KIKI suggested.

“How long would that take?”

“I won’t know until I get access. But in cases like this, the main AI must’ve been removed, leaving behind a subsystem. My estimate… five to six hours.”

“Then it’s not worth it,” Lin Xian concluded. “Rescuing them might actually be faster. If they really are researchers, they might have useful information. Plus, they’re familiar with the underground city’s layout—cooperating with them is more efficient than working against them.”

“But what if they’re lying?” Chen Sixuan voiced her concern.

“Let’s find out. KIKI!” Lin Xian pointed to the train’s roof.

KIKI immediately understood. Moments later, two drones lifted off from the Infinite Train

“The blizzard’s too strong—it’s messing with the image quality,” KIKI grumbled as she piloted the drones.

“No problem,” Lin Xian said. “Before nightfall, we need to get a general layout. Look below.”

“Got it~” KIKI pouted, staring at the screen. The underground city lay before them, completely silent and lifeless.

“Looks about right—no signs of survivors.”

“A thermal imaging system would be really useful here,” someone muttered.

Lin Xian nodded. “That large airborne nocturnal entity they mentioned—could it be the massive atmospheric jellyfish we saw last night? But that underground creature… what the hell is it?”

Chen Sixuan frowned. “This place is even more dangerous than we thought. Even if we go in, we can’t stay for long.”

“Then we’ll prioritize securing the Gemini 11R Nuclear Electric Locomotive. The rest we’ll decide on the spot.” Lin Xian turned to KIKI. “Can you locate their Level -52 floor?”

KIKI shook her head. “Nope. The moment we go below the horizon, we lose signal. It’s pitch black down there. But look—a tunnel leads straight underground. If we open the gate, we can drive the train directly inside.”

“An underground city of this size would have freight rail,” someone commented.

Staying aboard the train offered a tactical advantage—it was easier to fight off zombies, and elevators inside would make resource transport more efficient.

But driving the train into a collapsed underground city was a huge risk.

Lin Xian hesitated briefly, then looked at KIKI. “Your thoughts?”

“There’s definitely a risk,” KIKI admitted, resting her chin on her palm. “But everything they said aligns with our mission. The only issue is we don’t know what eerie entities are inside… or that underground monster they mentioned.”

Lin Xian exhaled. “Energy is a core issue—it’s critical for our survival. I already allocated one to two days here before heading to the High-Altitude Corridor, specifically to upgrade the train’s defenses, sensors, life support, and weapons.”

“So…?”

“I think this risk is worth taking.” Lin Xian’s voice was firm.

An entire abandoned underground city lay before them. If he didn’t even attempt to explore it, he’d be wasting his mechanical abilities.

And a nuclear-powered train? That was an apocalypse-grade artifact. They had to try.

“I’m in!” KIKI raised her hand excitedly.

Chen Sixuan and the others exchanged glances, nodding in agreement.

They all knew survival depended on the Infinite Train. As a mechanical ability user, Lin Xian had the final say. If securing this train boosted their chances, it was a risk worth taking.

Meanwhile, Ding Junyi’s group waited in agonizing suspense.

Finally, they encountered a potential rescue team before the Polar Night. A glimmer of hope.

But these people had no obligation to save them. They could only pray that Ding Junyi’s offer was enough to convince them.

“…Will they really agree?” Xu Wen muttered in despair. “We have no food, no water, and we don’t even know if the military district still has weapons. Would they really risk their lives for a train they don’t even know still works?”

Despite how logical Ding Junyi’s reasoning sounded, upon deeper thought, it didn’t seem like a strong bargaining chip.

Lin Xian’s group had ability users—they could enter the underground city without help. And the Gemini 11R was just theoretical—the Level -95 system had been down for days. They had no clue what was really below.

Food, weapons, or even the hope that their rescuers had moral integrity, all seemed like better incentives.

Xu Wen became increasingly panicked, pacing frantically. When the responder remained silent, he snapped.

“I’ll tell them! That we have tons of food, water, and weapons—that’ll convince them!”

But Ding Junyi coldly shut him down.

“Lies will only get us killed.”