Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 262 - 193: The Name of the Person (Part Three)

Chapter 262: Chapter 193: The Name of the Person (Part Three)

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 game 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 game 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 come to a stop than a station worker came 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 some of the elderly and children have begun to run a fever! Get out of here!"

At this, Emmet Sayer’s mentor turned his head and looked toward the front of the train, "Jax! Hurry! Start the train!" While the engine was still being started, Emmet Sayer’s mentor 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 Emmet Sayer’s mentor on the arm, "Mentor, there might be an issue with space."

Malin’s suggestion caused a sudden change in Emmet Sayer’s mentor. He glanced at Malin, about to do something, 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," Emmet Sayer’s mentor said, looking at Malin with a somewhat 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, Emmet Sayer’s mentor stopped the engine and leapt down from the train, heading toward the other train, "Carterburg’s Goddess of Harvest Church, Emmet Sayer Quasair mentor, you are..." "Meckel Hadam, Quasair mentor, as you can see, we’re in trouble,"

"Yes, our trouble," Emmet Sayer’s mentor said with a smile, gently patting the old man.

The old mentor 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 Emmet Sayer and Malin, "Quasair mentor, 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, come here."

The station worker hurried over, "Sir, is there anything you need to know? Also, are we all doomed?" 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 doomed, 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," Emmet Sayer’s mentor 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 come to or leave this city. However, the only certainty is that your two trains are the only ones that have come 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 me, sir!"

"What’s wrong, why are you pointing a gun at me!" 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?" Meckel’s mentor whispered, watching Malin closely and looking around with wariness.

"Correct." Malin turned to look at Emmet Sayer’s mentor and Meckel’s mentor, "Both mentors, please immediately return to the train, unlock the weapon carriage’s safety, we’re about to face the most dangerous situation."

The two mentors 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 Warhammer 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 methods to conceal their identities until the planet is completely compromised. And here this young man just transformed 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... became 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 transformed into didn’t have the characteristics of the Tyranid race.

Therefore, Malin could only deduce that in this city, someone must be summoning something, or something 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 Emet 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 fundamentally, it was still a person: "It seems to be human, the internal organs are not greatly deformed, 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 Emet Selch said, turning to Tutor Meckel from the Benevolent Church: "Could you take care of my students here for me?"

"Mr. Quamel, 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 Emet 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 Emet Selch, you take the right, and Tutor Meckel, 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 immediately, then use the train to eliminate them."

Having confirmed the attack steps, Malin led his team to the station entrance. Inside, there was no sound. Hand on the doorknob, Tutor Emet 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 flames burst forth from the door.

"Didn’t you say there were six seconds?!" Tutor Emet Selch, nearly singed, was quite fond of his hair.

"Tutor Emet 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. Meanwhile, Insectoids emerged from the flames, 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 Emet Selch and Tutor Meckel onto the train.

"I’m beginning to wonder what we can really do by entering this city," Tutor Emet 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 home," Tutor Meckel said.

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