34: The Last Train

Lin Que had dimmed the lights in the studio to the lowest setting,

leaving only a single floor lamp in the corner casting a solitary glow.

He stared at the author backend of Hongguo Novel Website,

the cursor blinking quietly in the title bar.

His fingers fell onto the keyboard, typing out the title of the new chapter.

[The Last Bus]

Words flowed rapidly from beneath his fingers.

[...]

[Yang Jian stood under the empty bus stop. Rain dripped from the tin edge of the sign, creating tiny splashes on the ground.]

[He had to reach Guanjiang Community in the west of the city as soon as possible, where a new supernatural event had occurred.]

[At exactly midnight, a bus drove out from the end of the street on schedule.]

[The body of the bus was an old dark green, the windows tightly shut, making it impossible to see inside.]

[A "Route 114" sign hung on the front, but the destination display was completely blank.]

[The door opened with a "creak," and a stale, musty smell wafted out.]

[Yang Jian stepped onto the bus expressionlessly. There were no lights inside; only the pale white streetlights from outside barely illuminated the outlines of the cabin.]

[In the driver's seat sat a person made of paper, wearing a bus driver's uniform, with a stiff smile painted on its face.]

[Yang Jian pulled a rusty copper coin from his pocket and dropped it into the fare box.]

["Clink."]

[After a crisp sound, the paper driver stiffly turned its neck, "glanced" at him, and then restarted the bus.]

[There were already a few "passengers" in the cabin.]

[They sat motionless in their seats, some with heads bowed, others staring out the window, all emitting the same decaying aura as the bus.]

[Yang Jian knew they weren't living people.]

[The bus drove smoothly. At every stop, whether anyone was there or not, it would stop and open its doors.]

[Then, a new "passenger" would board.]

[A woman in a soaked dress, water constantly dripping from her.]

[A man in a suit without a head, holding his own head in his hands.]

[A child charred black all over, leaving a trail of black footprints wherever he went.]

[The seats in the cabin were gradually being filled.]

[Beside Yang Jian, a young man who was also a survivor was pale, shaking like a leaf.]

["Where... where is this bus going? Why... why do I feel colder and colder?"]

[Yang Jian didn't answer him.]

[He just stared fixedly at the sign at the front of the cabin written in red paint: [Capacity: 30 People].]

[Now, including him and that young man, there were a total of twenty-nine "passengers" on board.]

[The bus arrived at a stop again.]

[The door opened, and an old man leaning on a cane tottered on. It had no shadow.]

[The thirtieth.]

[The cabin was full.]

[Almost at the moment the old man sat down, all the "passengers" in the cabin turned their heads in unison,]

[looking at the only two living people on the bus with their "gazes"—some hollow, some malicious, some numb.]

[The young survivor finally broke down.]

[He let out a shrill scream, rushing desperately toward the back door, pounding frantically: "Let me off! Let me off!"]

[The paper driver didn't react.]

[In the cabin, the man in the suit holding his own head slowly stood up and walked toward him.]

["No! Don't come over here!"]

[Yang Jian remained in his seat, watching coldly from the sidelines.]

[He knew the rules of this ghost bus. It would never be overloaded.]

[Once it was full, if a new passenger boarded, someone had to get off.]

[And the living had no seats on this bus.]

[The man in the suit walked behind the young man. It didn't strike; it just gently placed the head it was holding onto the young man's shoulder.]

[The young man's screams stopped abruptly. His body began to stiffen and rot rapidly, and in just a few seconds, he turned into a foul-smelling mummy.]

[The man in the suit "picked up" the young man's head, held it in his hands, and returned to his seat with satisfaction.]

[A deathly silence returned to the cabin.]

[Now, Yang Jian was the only living person left on the bus.]

[The bus arrived at a stop again.]

[The door opened. Standing at the platform was a little girl in a red dress, giving him a weird smile.]

[Capacity: 30 People. Full.]

[If it wanted to board, someone had to get off.]

[Yang Jian looked at the little girl and slowly stood up.]

[He didn't rush for the door, but instead walked over to the old ghost with the cane who had just boarded and hadn't "settled" yet.]

[He raised his pale hand, which was being eroded by a ghost, and grabbed the old ghost by the neck.]

[Under the numb gaze of all the ghost passengers, he threw the old ghost out of the window by force.]

[Having done all this, he returned to his seat as if nothing had happened and sat down.]

[The door closed, and the little girl in red remained on the platform.]

[The bus continued forward.]

Lin Que finished the last word and clicked publish.

He didn't even refresh the comment section,

simply picking up his coffee and walking to the floor-to-ceiling window to overlook the city below.

He knew exactly what kind of bomb he had just dropped.

Sure enough.

Not long after he finished the coffee, the comment section of the human world is like a prison exploded.

At first, it was a chorus of wails from readers terrified by the update.

[Holy crap! How am I supposed to take the bus now! Author, are you a devil?!]

[Paper driver... passenger holding his head... I just got off the last bus! Now I feel like the driver is smiling at me!]

[Great, after "under-the-bed phobia" and "knocking-on-the-door hallucinations," I've now gloriously developed "last bus delusion." From now on, I only deserve to take a taxi at night!]

But soon, the direction of the comment section changed.

Some sharp-eyed readers immediately sensed something different.

[Wait! Yang Jian threw a ghost off the bus?!]

[Can Ghost Controllers be used like this? Directly competing with ghosts for seats?]

[Upstairs, you've found the key point!]

[This is no longer simple evasion and survival; this is using the rules to play a game with ghosts! Yang Jian is transforming from prey to hunter!]

[My scalp is literally tingling! This is a true dark novel!]

[To survive, he even dares to use ghosts! This is so exciting! The protagonist's cold-bloodedness and decisiveness are just too cool!]

This fear triggered by "The Last Bus" swept across the internet once again.

Its influence was even wider than the previous "Ghost Knocking" and "Ghost Under the Bed,"

because buses are a daily routine that most city dwellers cannot avoid.

The next day, Jiangcheng No. 1 High School.

Wu Di had dark circles under his eyes,

drifting over to Lin Que like a wandering soul and grabbing his arm.

"Brother Que... I had a nightmare last night..."

He lowered his voice, leaning into Lin Que's ear, his voice trembling slightly.

"I dreamed I was on the 302 bus near my house, but the driver turned into a paper person, and the bus was full of ghosts..."

"The one holding his head sat right next to me and asked, 'Student, do you know where my head fell?'..."

Lin Que yawned and glanced at him lazily:

"So, did you tell him?"

"Crap, how could I have the guts! I woke up in a fright right then and there!"

Wu Di had a mournful face, but then he lowered his voice again,

a strange excitement in his eyes.

"But Brother Que, don't you think it was awesome when Yang Jian threw that old ghost out the window?"

"Daring to be so aggressive on a ghost bus, that's a real man!"

"Say, if I had half of his..."

"If you had half of his, you wouldn't have to do your homework."

Lin Que interrupted him lazily.

Wu Di's face immediately fell:

"...Then forget it."

"Thinking of Sister Bingbing's stare, even that girl in red at the bus stop looks pretty."

Wu Di muttered while recalling the plot with both fear and fascination.

When he snapped out of it, he saw Lin Que about to lie down again and quickly shook him:

"Brother Que, don't sleep. Do you think there really are ghost buses in this world?"

"That... hard to say."

Lin Que changed his posture, preparing to continue his nap.

"Anyway, go out less at night and come home early to do your homework."

Wu Di looked at Lin Que's heartless appearance and wanted to cry but had no tears.

In the Chinese teaching research office, the atmosphere was oppressive.

Young Teacher Wang was pale, and her hands were shaking as she typed on her phone:

"I'm never letting my daughter take the bus at night again!

She came home crying yesterday, saying the driver had no expression the whole time,

and the people on the bus all had their heads bowed. The more she thought about it, the more scared she got, so she ran off three stops early!"

Another teacher agreed with lingering fear:

"Tell me about it!

Our community's owner group is in an uproar. Several people said they took the last bus last night and felt a chill down their spines,

and when they looked back, there was nothing. Now they're discussing whether to carpool in a taxi after work."

Shen Qingqiu held her water cup, listening to her colleagues' discussions.

She certainly knew the source of all this.

She remembered a few days ago,

Lin Que had solemnly told her he would learn from "Jian Shen" and absorb positive energy.

Looking at the city-wide "last bus fear" now,

a deep sense of powerlessness welled up in her heart.

She couldn't control Lin Que,

nor could she control that devil called "Hell Dream Weaver." In her desperate powerlessness, her gaze subconsciously fell on the desk.

There lay a brand-new copy of New Tide magazine,

the cover featuring an illustration of The Miracles of the Namiya General Store. Darkness cannot be defeated, so...

What if she used light to guide him? A thought flashed through her mind. She took a deep breath, stood up abruptly, and pulled open the drawer.

From a stack of stationery, she pulled out the most elegant sheet,

spread it on the desk, and gripped her pen. The tip of the pen hovered over the paper, trembling slightly.

After a long time, she finally wrote the first line.

[Respected Teacher Jian Shen, hello...]