Free Web NovelChapter 127: Chapter 127: Terminal Station Reached
"If that’s the case, brothers, I’ve got another solution."
Outside the bus, a group was watching the stream. There were still a few minutes before Jiang Che’s bus was set to depart.
The departure time was fixed; the bus wouldn’t leave early just because there were fewer people or not all the seats were filled.
Jiang Che and the others were still waiting on the bus, while people outside had already started planning what to do next time.
"If fare-dodging works!" The speaker raised the tablet in his hand, displaying a screenshot—the ticket seller with the punchy sea urchin fingers.
"Then if we chop off its fingers, can’t that work too?"
He pointed at the ticket seller’s spiky, sea-urchin-like fingers.
"That’s not a wrong way to think about it..." The person next to him looked uneasy. "But it feels risky."
"Jiang Che’s plan is way better. Sneak on without paying, zero risk, no one has to get sacrificed," someone muttered.
"What I’m saying now isn’t risky either! No one needs to die. We keep saying ’fingers,’ but there’s no rule it has to be ours."
He got more and more excited, staring at the ticket seller’s fingers—convinced this was the optimal solution.
"Are you sure Jiang Che’s way is really the best?" He snorted. "What if there’s a ticket check halfway, or at the final stop? No ticket, then you’re just dead."
"If you ask me, having a ticket is safest." He watched the stream as Jiang Che’s group started to depart.
At that, he stepped forward immediately.
"I’m fourth tier now. I know there’s risk fighting that ticket seller, so I’m hoping the combat types will join me, let’s chop that thing’s finger off together." He rubbed his hands. "Just look at those sea-urchin fingers—tell me that’s not peak problem-solving."
"Come on, let’s get someone with some strength, help me take its finger, use it as a ticket." He pumped his fist and looked at the people in line.
Many heads turned, but a lot of folks didn’t even look up, glued to the livestream on their phones.
This sss-level dungeon bus to Six-Star Pond felt endless; even now, people like Liu Hong from the first group were still onboard.
Outside the bus was pitch black, but inside, the lights were bright.
It was like firefly lights shone through the windows, barely revealing the dim scenery around the bus.
Right now, it seemed to be passing through a forest; outside the trees, nothing could be seen, just more darkness stretching out forever.
Just watching the stream made everyone feel like there was a sack over their heads—minds filled with fear of the unknown.
"Hahaha, I’ve been wanting to do this for ages, just no one spoke up!"
"Same here, I always thought lopping that old bastard’s finger off was the right answer."
"Alright, I’m tier five now—not super high, but I want to try."
"Even tier five is gonna try? Guess Six-Star Pond’s ruleset really is a huge draw."
...
A few stepped out of the line; the people ahead didn’t stop them from cutting in.
Dungeon entry comes fast—no one cares about a few minutes lost.
If they could, they’d love to see where this nightmare bus actually ends up.
Someone jumping ahead in line just gave them more chance to watch. Nothing to lose there.
Some folks tried to act nonchalant, but their eyes still drifted over at the little team heading into the dungeon together.
"So, how many of you are going in?" The guy at the front of the queue stared, curious.
"If you’re going by force, you can’t be bringing eleven, right? There’s only ten seats. If you take eleven, one of you is gonna get erased for not being able to board."
As they talked, the group getting ready for the force-run had gathered five people.
"Just five," said the fourth-tier guy with a laugh, "Too many people would be dead weight in a fight. It’s not like the space in there is that big."
"Plus, if we fail, we’re all tiered Survivors here. At worst we just lose a hand. I bet everyone can handle that."
The others who were joining in grinned, too.
Then they eyed each other up, checking to see who’d be the easy target if shit went sideways.
...
"Hello, fare please." At the ticket counter, the weird ticket seller stretched out his hand again.
All those fingers wriggled independently, almost like each one had its own brain.
The guy at the front took a deep breath—and without hesitation, grabbed for a finger. With his strength as a tier-five Survivor, plucking a basic ghost’s finger should’ve been easy.
Except, as soon as he touched those sea-urchin spikes, he felt dozens of soft fingers wrap around and grip him tight.
"Intertwined fingers" didn’t quite capture it, but it did feel exactly like being linked finger to finger.
Tightly locked, not letting go at all.
A fierce glint flashed in the ticket seller’s eyes. From the moment these fools walked in, it could sense the killing intent rolling off them.
Evil spirits are always sharp to threats like that.
And these people didn’t even try to hide what they were up to.
Soon as the first guy acted, the others followed right after.
The stream chat exploded—
[These guys are wild, for real! When there’s trouble, they’re always first in line!]
[Are they really about to die here?]
[What about the people after them in line?]
[The driver and the bus always reset like NPCs, right? This time should be the same, right?]
While the outside argued, inside a brawl was breaking out with no clear winner yet.
The ticket seller wasn’t that strong; after a few seconds, it got pinned hard.
Five Survivors grabbed hold and—no hesitation—went for those fingers.
Ka-cha!
A few seconds later, each Survivor was holding one of those strange, writhing fingers.
Even after being ripped off, the fingers curled and squirmed, like they were trying to crawl back to their owner.
Seeing the Survivors stop their attack, the ticket seller silently slunk back to its post.
"Ha, I can’t believe it actually worked."
"The bunch that tried before us really died for nothing."
"That’s why—if the rules don’t say no, then it’s fair game."
"Tickets, here! Hah!" Each Survivor tossed a finger-ticket to the driver.
Before getting on the bus, they stuck a hand out toward the void for the audience to see.
"Not as hard as it looked."
"Life’s a cinch."
The bus driver just glanced at the fingers, then sat back down behind the wheel, silent as a stone.
The five of them found seats and, at last, their nerves settled a bit.
Only when their asses were on the seat did their hearts finally drop out of their throat.
The engine rumbled to life, and everyone’s breathing steadied.
At the same moment, the first batch of Survivors heard the broadcast in their ears:
[End station: Six-Star Pond. Arrived.]
