Silent Hill, Malin’s first reaction was that his head was going to split open—because he knew of the notorious existence known in the horror ga world as Silent Hill.
Though Malin was aware that the train station before him and the city clearly visible behind it must be different from Silent Hill in the ga world, the infamy was overwhelming, especially since he had also seen the film adaptation.
Moreover, the current issue was that even Matilda, a paladin immune to diseases, had fallen victim to it, leading Malin to believe this city was indeed very dangerous.
No sooner had the train co to a stop than a station worker ca running over, "Why did you stop? Didn’t I notify the train dispatch to halt all trains from stopping here?" The young man’s face was etched with urgency, "Move quickly! Our city has been plagued with a mysterious disease for four days now; everyone’s coughing, and so of the elderly and children have begun to run a fever! Get out of here!"
At this, Emt Sayer’s ntor turned his head and looked toward the front of the train, "Jax! Hurry! Start the train!" While the engine was still being started, Emt Sayer’s ntor turned to the middle-aged man responsible for the telegraph machine, "Wood! What’s going on? Didn’t you receive a telegram?"
"I swear to the Goddess, I haven’t received any telegrams!" the man swore.
Malin patted Emt Sayer’s ntor on the arm, "ntor, there might be an issue with space."
Malin’s suggestion caused a sudden change in Emt Sayer’s ntor. He glanced at Malin, about to do sothing, when he noticed another train slowly approaching the station from another set of tracks.
"We drove straight forward! Why have we returned to this damned city?" an old man’s curse could be heard from the train.
"You truly have the talent of a jinx, Malin," Emt Sayer’s ntor said, looking at Malin with a sowhat resigned sigh.
To this Malin could only offer an awkward smile, then noticed the train, "Right, this appears to be the Benevolent Goddess Church’s train."
"I’ll go check out who’s in charge." Since moving forward would only bring them back to the starting point, Emt Sayer’s ntor stopped the engine and leapt down from the train, heading toward the other train, "Carterburg’s Goddess of Harvest Church, Emt Sayer Quasair ntor, you are..." "ckel Hadam, Quasair ntor, as you can see, we’re in trouble,"
"Yes, our trouble," Emt Sayer’s ntor said with a smile, gently patting the old man.
The old ntor of the Benevolent Goddess Church disembarked, turned to his train, "Don’t get off! Everyone gather! Take care of the younger ones!" Then he turned to face Emt Sayer and Malin, "Quasair ntor, this man is..." "Malin Gaiate."
"Ah, Mr. Malin, well-known indeed. I’m quite fond of your canned goods; though a bit salty, for those of us living on the great plains, it’s a rare taste," the old man said jovially, shaking hands with Malin. "Of course, now we have more important matters at hand. Young man over there, co here."
The station worker hurried over, "Sir, is there anything you need to know? Also, are we all dood?" The worker’s question made everyone present look a bit perplexed, and he smiled awkwardly, "My first child just turned three months old, if we’re all dood, then I’m not going to work anymore, I want to go back and be with my daughter and wife."
"My personal suggestion is to go back to your family. We’re not deities, and we can’t make promises beyond our capabilities," Emt Sayer’s ntor replied.
"Thank you, then please ask your questions quickly," the young man said, wrinkling his nose but eventually nodding with a smile.
"You said the disease started four days ago, so I’d like to know, since you work here, do you have a record of the visitors from the last half month?" Malin quickly inquired.
"We don’t have such a thing here. Every day thousands of people co to or leave this city. However, the only certainty is that your two trains are the only ones that have co in the last two days..." The young man paused, "Right, where did the other trains go?"
Without a word, Malin drew his revolver, aiming it at the young man who had begun to transform, "Look at , sir!"
"What’s wrong, why are you pointing a gun at !" Having no awareness of, or ignoring his own bodily alterations, the man noticed Malin’s revolver only when his face, now resembling a carapace, showed ominous cracks. Malin stepped forward twice and thrust the World Tree Sapling into the face of the young man, whose transformation was nearly complete, knocking him to the ground.
"Why didn’t you shoot? Do you think there could be a problem with the entire station?" ckel’s ntor whispered, watching Malin closely and looking around with wariness.
"Correct." Malin turned to look at Emt Sayer’s ntor and ckel’s ntor, "Both ntors, please imdiately return to the train, unlock the weapon carriage’s safety, we’re about to face the most dangerous situation."
The two ntors quickly turned and departed, while Malin looked down at the insectoid—considering the current situation, it wasn’t the worst case scenario.
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The worst-case scenario involved the fat dead man from the Benevolent Church, and if he entered the fray, Malin couldn’t be sure he would make it out alive. As for those who turned their victims into insects, Malin really wasn’t clear on how strong they were.
"You say it’s like an insect? There are plenty of insectile Evil Gods, but very few are well-known. The Tyranid from Warhamr 40K could fit the bill, though Malin feels that the insect at his feet is no kin to the Tyranids of 40K—at least it doesn’t look like any gene thief he knows."
Gene thieves infiltrate through reproduction, they often have non-human appearances, but rely on illusion techniques and other thods to conceal their identities until the planet is completely compromised. And here this young man just transford right in front of Malin, which doesn’t seem at all like the Tyranid’s style.
First and foremost, a Tyranid is an insect, while this fellow... beca an insect, and this young man bore no signs of a broken Illusion Technique spell, showing no adverse reactions whatsoever.
And the insect that this young man transford into didn’t have the characteristics of the Tyranid race.
Therefore, Malin could only deduce that in this city, soone must be summoning sothing, or sothing was changing.
The apprentices from the Benevolent Church and the Goddess of Harvest were arming themselves. For safety, the doors of several cars between the two trains were opened and planks were laid across for easy support from either side. The two tutors had now returned to Malin’s side. Tutor Et Selch looked at Malin dissecting the Insectoid, puzzled, "Why are you dissecting it? To see if there’s any material inside?"
"No, I just want to confirm if it can still be considered human." As Malin spoke, he checked the internal organs of the Insectoid’s corpse, concluding that fundantally, it was still a person: "It seems to be human, the internal organs are not greatly deford, like the heart hasn’t changed at all... But honestly, I am still very worried. In just four days, this guy was able to fully transform; how many living humans are still left in this city... it’s unimaginable, and without enough information, we really don’t understand what went wrong."
"Maybe we could take a look inside the city." Tutor Et Selch said, turning to Tutor ckel from the Benevolent Church: "Could you take care of my students here for ?"
"Mr. Qual, don’t compete with an old man to rush towards death. I’ll go into the city with Mr. Malin, you stay here and watch the kids. For now, let’s enter the station and clean it up." With that, the old man lifted his double-barreled shotgun.
"I brought your gun for you." Tutor Et Selch tossed Malin his shotgun, to which he caught and said, "I’m small, it aids in evasion. When the door opens, first throw a flashbang, I’ll rush in first and clear the targets on the left, Tutor Et Selch, you take the right, and Tutor ckel, you watch the ceiling for us."
"No problem."
"Considering there might be different intel inside the station, like a large number of Insectoids, I’ll make a Plan B. If it’s full of insects inside, we retreat back onto the train imdiately, then use the train to eliminate them."
Having confird the attack steps, Malin led his team to the station entrance. Inside, there was no sound. Hand on the doorknob, Tutor Et Selch took a deep breath, then pushed open the door.
Opposite him, Malin threw in a stun grenade.
Standard procedure: pull the pin, wait two seconds, and throw the grenade. While in flight, the grenade activates, filling the hall with the piercing shrieks characteristic of the Insectoids, a multitude of sound sources.
Malin’s face darkened. "Plan B!" he shouted, while quickly opening his shoulder bag and tossing the prepared incendiary grenade into the hall: "Six seconds! Run!"
No sooner had he spoken than flas burst forth from the door.
"Didn’t you say there were six seconds?!" Tutor Et Selch, nearly singed, was quite fond of his hair.
"Tutor Et Selch, Church ordnance is produced from military armories; it was just two seconds quicker," said Malin as he dashed toward the train. The generations, old, middle-aged, and young, quickly ran to the train. anwhile, Insectoids erged from the flas, roaring as they pursued the uninvited guests.
As they closed in, the senior apprentices on the train began firing, interrupting the Insectoids’ pursuit. They retreated after leaving dozens of corpses.
Finally reaching the train station, Malin turned and pushed both Tutor Et Selch and Tutor ckel onto the train.
"I’m beginning to wonder what we can really do by entering this city," Tutor Et Selch said, looking out at the distant city.
"At least we can verify whether the Churches will run into any trouble," Malin replied.
"But based on the information we have, we’ll need to find a vehicle soon, otherwise one day we are bound to die on this long, odorous journey back ho," Tutor ckel said.
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