After satiating his hunger, Charles moved directly onto the platform.
The dimly lit station was strewn with broken and dismembered bodies. Fortuitously, Charles had a robust psychological constitution. Otherwise, this horrific scene alone could paralyze one with dread, robbing them of the ability to move.
Near the platform, an old train loomed, standing still on weed-infested tracks. Not far from the door of the locomotive's cab, a mysterious circle of light shimmered.
It appeared that this glowing ring was the entrance to the train.
"Don't run away, you all!"
"Don't back down just because this place looks terrifying!"
"If we can't reach the Endless Abyss, staying here will still spell doom!"
Four individuals stood near the circle of light, exchanging greetings with others nearby, as if inviting them to partake in some unspoken venture.
Charles approached them and introductions were exchanged.
They were Richard, a middle-aged man with noticeable balding features; Zoe, a seemingly refined young lady; Tony, a muscular youth; and Lacy, an elderly woman leaning on a cane.
"If everyone is ready, let's proceed," said Lacy, surprisingly the first to speak up.
The others exchanged glances before Richard asserted, "Alright, given the number of people who've died outside this train, I can only imagine the untold dangers within. We must stick together!"
Finishing his statement, he extended his hand toward the center of their makeshift circle, gesturing for the others to place theirs on top. Zoe hesitated briefly but, despite her discomfort, finally placed her hand atop the others.
"Let's give it our all, everyone!"
With a hearty cry meant to boost morale, Richard seemed to charge the air with anticipation.
Then, they stepped into the glowing circle. A blinding whiteness enveloped them, and they lost consciousness...
Task Name: Malevolence Aboard the Train (Instance)
Objective: Successfully start the train and leave the station.
Reward: Entry to the Endless Abyss.
Boom—
Thunder roared, and rain, imprisoned by dark clouds for so long, could no longer contain its excitement, violently crashing onto the earth below.
Charles blinked open his eyes to find himself seated in the sixth car of the train.
He took stock of his surroundings.
The world outside was pitch-black, battered by a torrential downpour. The platform was a desolate ruin. Aside from the raindrops, no signs of life were visible, nor were there any remnants of shattered bodies of other ones.
Inside, the air was thick with the mingled scents of dust and rust.
The cavernous carriage was empty.
The train lights were defective, flickering intermittently.
The surrounding atmosphere was one of coldness and dead silence.
No shadows of others were in sight. It appeared they had been scattered.
Slowly rising, Charles moved to the train's central aisle. Before he could begin to explore, a sinister giggle echoed from behind.
"Hee hee hee…"
Hearing the laughter, Charles didn't immediately turn around.
Instead, he continued forward unflinchingly, searching for crucial items.
Like a box of pencils strewn on the floor, and a rusty metal pencil case adorned with various doodles.
"Hee hee hee…"
That spine-chilling laughter resonated again, now noticeably closer to Charles.
The voice was clearly that of a little girl.
Yet Charles did not turn around.
He examined the metal pencil case he held in his hands. A regular person might not easily deform its solid structure with a squeeze. However, the one Charles held had already been distorted from side pressure.
His gaze flickered to a corner of the car, where a ragged backpack lay next to a small black suitcase.
Charles seemed pensive.
He pocketed the pencil case and moved towards the corner. The backpack contained elementary school textbooks and homework, all covered in colorful doodles from a child's hand.
Not particularly valuable.
The homework was meticulously completed, each page stamped with a parent's signature, suggesting a family deeply invested in the child's education.
Charles' eyes scanned over the small black suitcase in the corner.
...
[Suitcase: High Risk]
[Note: Your curiosity seems ample, but… do not attempt to open it!]
...
Charles walked straight towards the suitcase. As he did, the eerie laughter from behind now crept right up to his ear!
Almost... whispering directly into it.
"Hee hee hee... open it..."
"Open it!"
"Open it!!"
"Open it!!!"
The voice lingering near Charles' ear seemed to possess a magical allure.
It seemed to exert some degree of control over human behavior.
Without conscious thought, Charles' fingers grazed the suitcase's zipper.
The haunting voice near his ear kept repeating, urging Charles to quickly unlock the black case. Yet, his hand froze on the zipper, refusing to move.
Gradually, the voice grew more and more impatient, but Charles remained unmoved.
Finally, he stood up and walked toward the fifth car, ignoring the voice completely.
Behind him, a small and distorted shadow watched him go, its eyes filled with extreme frustration.
The shadow slowly vanished. But before long, Charles inexplicably returned to the car, his hand once again reaching for the black suitcase.
The eerie shadow reappeared, its cold, pale face breaking into a delighted smile as it stood behind Charles, tilting its head and taunting,
"Yes, just like that! Open it!!!"
But it stopped mid-sentence, puzzled by the unexpected turn of events.
Charles softly caressed the suitcase with his left hand, then abruptly pulled out a gleaming scalpel with his right. He flashed a radiant smile and violently plunged the scalpel into the suitcase.
With a sickening squelch, the blade sank in as though it had pierced a mound of sludge, followed by a foul-smelling, fresh blood oozing from the crevices.
The black suitcase started to convulse and jerk violently.
Gripping the scalpel, Charles began to make precise yet frantic incisions along the small opening.
Charles's hand speed was faster than that of many reclusive men who masturbate, and his accuracy was incredibly high—each thrust of the scalpel hitting the exact same spot every time.
Such a technique would be useless against a ghost or a robust monster for most people. But Charles was different.
He now possessed a slight chaos damage bonus.
While the exact amount of damage was unclear, the splattering blood indicated that even this modest bonus was sufficient.
Since the ghost couldn't venture out on its own, Charles showed no restraint.
After delivering thousands of incisions, a system notification finally resounded in Charles' ears:
"Congratulations, you have killed the evil ghost. Your strength has increased."