Armed Train in the Apocalypse

Lao San was drenched in sweat, realizing he wouldn’t be able to train today. He greeted others and headed back to the dorm for a cold shower.

Three minutes later, the shower was turned off.

The burly man emerged from the shower room, his body emanating steam, creating a formidable presence in the dark room.

His breathing was almost indiscernible, the only sound in the room being the faint noise of the train’s devices operating.

Despite taking a shower, Lao San didn’t feel any relief. Once, he was a formidable force on his own, but now Tier One Evolvers were everywhere. Although Su Huan continued to trust him and his subordinates respected him, he couldn’t shake a feeling of discomfort.

Seeing Lin Jin advance to Tier Three just now made him feel even more stifled.

Lao San was silent for a moment, then began doing push-ups on the floor without a word.

As long as his body was exhausted, he wouldn’t think too much. As for his mind, Lao San always thought he didn’t have much of one.

He used to think he was the smartest among the three brothers, but now Boss had joined the ranks of experts, Lao Er’s training methods impressed even He Jie, and he seemed unchanged.

Even his power couldn’t keep up.

The more Lao San thought, the more frustrated he became, and the more frustrated he was, the harder he exerted himself. Yet he knew in his heart that no matter how many push-ups he did, it would only slightly improve his strength, and the feeling of futile effort made him even more frustrated.

Suddenly, his arms went limp, and he collapsed onto the floor.

It was only then that he realized his arms were unbearably sore, unable to hold him up.

”Damn!”

The man angrily smashed the metal floor, and the sweat on the ground made a muffled slapping sound.

Lao San lay on the ground, breathing heavily.

At that moment, the communicator suddenly rang, and Director Xu’s voice came through, ”The equipment is ready, you can come over if you’re free now.”

Lao San’s face broke into a smile, ”Hey, Director Xu, you’re still awake?”

”It’s still early, once we’re done with your matter, I have to rush to the experiment.”

”I’ll be right there, I promise not to delay your work.”

Lao San quickly rolled over, dashed into the bathroom for a thirty-second shower, and then sprinted toward the Cultivation Pod.

The basement of the Cultivation Pod was brightly lit, with personnel from various laboratories busily moving through it.

This was a normal state for the laboratory; it was this year-round dedication to research that allowed the laboratories on the Armed Train to develop numerous products in just a year.

When Lao San arrived, Yu Jing and Director Xu were discussing something.

They weren’t ones for small talk; after exchanging greetings, they quickly began the test.

Yu Jing stayed to observe the test.

The equipment for testing Life Force had been transformed into a huge cultivation chamber filled with colorless, transparent liquid, providing an accuracy far surpassing the first-generation model.

As the device activated, several green light columns began to rise rapidly.

Initially, the speed was extremely fast, but it gradually slowed down, eventually stabilizing without fluctuating.

Director Xu observed the changes of the light columns and frowned slightly, ”Change the sequence of the reagents, and start injecting them in order in one minute.”

Yu Jing’s gaze drifted over Lao San, and she curiously asked, ”Is it inaccurate?”

Director Xu sighed softly, ”It’s possible, but more likely not. Let’s retest to see if there’s any error.”

”Too low?”

Director Xu pointed at the light columns and said, ”The first column represents his life force limit; it’s at 90%, which means his life force has less than ten percent deficit.”

”The second column represents his current total life force, but it’s only around 160. According to my statistics, a normal person’s life force is below 10, an Evolver’s is between 10 and 50, and Tier One Evolvers are generally between 50 and 200. This means that only with more than 200 units of life force can one possibly evolve to Tier Two.”

”Two hundred? I remember Su Huan’s test showed...”

”2200, that was when he just entered Tier Three. The units haven’t changed, only the test precision has. Although measuring other Evolvers by the standards of a train conductor isn’t scientifically accurate, a Tier Three life force must be at least in the thousands.”

At this point, Yu Jing roughly understood the life force valuation system. She pointed to the third light column, asking, ”So this last column represents Lao San’s potential life force growth?”

Director Xu nodded, ”Yes, but this is only an estimate based on his current body. If there are other variables, it might still increase.”

Yu Jing fell silent when she saw the ’20’ on Lao San’s potential index.

Even if Lao San trained his body to the limit, his life force would be around 180, still 20 points short of the minimum standard of 200. Eating a Crown Pear could restore some of the deficit, but could that one-tenth deficit really equate to 20 points of life force?

If it were that easy, Director Xu wouldn’t be sighing.

Moreover, 200 is just the minimum requirement. Even if it’s reached, there’s still a fifty to sixty percent chance of failure.

Yet Yu Jing was still somewhat puzzled. Given Lao San was only in his thirties, at the peak of his life, how could his life force be so weak?

Perhaps seeing her confusion, Director Xu explained softly, ”Life force isn’t an independent metric. Youth is an important factor, but innate foundation and later depletion all affect the amount of life force. Take the old factory director, his age had worn down not only his life force but also his life force limit, even the Crown Pear couldn’t replenish it.”

In other words, Lao San’s innate foundation and life force limit were poor. If he were ten years younger, he might have a chance to fight for Tier Two.

But now, it’s too late.

”This is an insurmountable threshold, barring all those without enough talent from entering the evolutionary gate, no matter how hard they try.”

Director Xu’s voice carried a hint of melancholy.

As one of the earliest researchers to engage with evolution, he knew more than Lao San and, naturally, had long felt the regret.

At least Lao San had seen the scenery beyond the gate of evolution, whereas he hadn’t even reached Tier One.

Yu Jing stopped watching afterward. Although it was a pity that Lao San remained at Tier One, being alive and possessing power made him luckier than most in the post-apocalyptic world.

Compared to Lin Xi, who had barely two years of life expectancy, Lao San’s complaints seemed almost baseless.

Her concept of merging mechanics with flesh and blood was stalled for the moment.

Black Kite’s ”Iron Blood Coexistence” essentially used a flesh and blood lifeform as the base and then added some mechanical constructs, much like replacing a leg with a prosthetic. No matter how elegantly it’s integrated, it’s still a patchwork at its core.

The ability merely made it somewhat smoother.

It still fell short of her expectations.

As she pondered, she found herself outside the laboratory.

Suddenly, a voice interrupted her thoughts.

Yu Jing turned to see Arrow Rain; Number 1 was suspended in mid-air in a comical posture, surrounded by all sorts of equipment, with only his eyes exposed.

”Your experiment is very interesting.”

Number 1’s voice was transmitted through a device and then played out by a loudspeaker.

This meant his words and actions would be recorded by the train.

Their equally calm gazes met, their indifference resembling products rolling off the same production line.

Yu Jing pondered for a moment and then understood, ”So you calculated that batch of data some time ago?”

”How did it go, did it succeed?”

Number 1 asked.

”No, it still failed, but I held on a bit longer.”

”If it’s just an extension of a few seconds or minutes, it doesn’t hold much meaning. However, your direction, I’ve simulated multiple times. If your ability is truly that extraordinary, perhaps this direction is correct, although you may need to advance to Tier Three or even Tier Four...”

Number 1 conversed like a colleague.

Yu Jing didn’t show any arrogance toward a captive; instead, she contemplated the possibility of what he suggested.

Tier Three or Four might hold the key, but it wasn’t certain they could wait that long.

”I checked the train’s inventory, and this material might be of help to you.”

Number 1 projected a green polyhedron on the adjacent screen.