At that moment, the train conductor in uniform was staring intently at the dark sky outside the porthole, leaving Yi Heye with only a back of his head that he couldn't make out.
No matter how awesome Yi Heye was, he couldn't tell whether the thing in front of him was a person or a machine just by looking at the few hairs on the back of his head, while the behemoth behind him was already rumbling toward the driver's seat.
It is urgent and cannot be delayed.
Yi Heye quickly reviewed the situation and realized that he was currently in a game. Even if the train conductor in front of him was a "human," he was just an NPC made up of data.
So he quickly raised his gun and aimed it at the "train conductor's" head—after all, for Yi Heye, communication was the least effective measure.
Just as he was about to fire, the train conductor suddenly spoke up nervously: "Don't shoot, I'm someone trapped in the game."
Yi Heye frowned and looked in the rearview mirror—the guy's appearance was indeed human, but his eyes, which were the most crucial factor affecting his judgment, were covered by sunglasses, which greatly hindered his assessment.
The train conductor said, "My real body has been in a coma for two years, and my family is doing everything they can to save me. If you kill me in the game, I really won't survive either."
Behind them, a deafening roar came crashing down, clearly indicating that the monster was about to reach the first carriage.
Yi Heye did not lower his gun, but instead pointed the muzzle at the train conductor's forehead: "Cut off the carriage."
Upon hearing this, the train conductor tilted his head slightly, but hesitated to move his hand: "We're at high altitude now..."
Without giving the train conductor any time to explain, Yi Heye quickly used the butt of his gun to snatch away the conductor's sunglasses—his gray, lifeless eyes stared blankly ahead.
Yi Heye's intuition was right; the train conductor was not human at all.
It's just one of Blue Sheep's usual deceptive tricks.
The instant the train conductor lunged at him with his gaping maw, Yi Heye, who was already prepared, raised his hand and fired, blasting him to pieces from head to toe.
The next second after the parts flew everywhere, the door of carriage number 1 was smashed open, and the train shook violently. Looking up, a huge worm, as tall as the carriage itself, was wriggling wildly toward the driver's cab.
Yi Heye fired two shots at it, but the hard steel teeth blocked the bullets directly, clearly indicating that the bullet attack was completely ineffective against it.
After assessing the situation, Yi Heye decisively turned around. He looked at the flashy control panel in front of him, and a headache shot through him—
He already lacked patience when it came to reading and learning, and the red and green buttons and the tall and short levers in front of him made him feel even more nauseous and disgusted.
Give up decisively.
Yi Heye, holding a gun, went to the joint of the vehicle body, lifted the thick plastic sheet, and quickly found the row of extremely sturdy latches.
"Bang!" Yi Heye fired a shot at the latch, and the vehicle shook violently, but the latch did not open. In front of him, the mechanical worm swayed twice amidst the loud noise and rushed over even faster.
"Damn it." Yi Heye almost lost his balance in the turbulence. He cursed instinctively and then grabbed the seat in the cabin.
The safety factor of the light track is extremely high. Ordinary bullets simply cannot break the safety lock of the carriage. Yi Heye looked at the worm, retreating while wiping the cold sweat seeping from his forehead.
The firepower couldn't keep up.
The moment the thought crossed Yi Heye's mind, an RPG rocket-propelled grenade appeared beside him, with two ram's horns stuck in the barrel.
He had never used such a barbaric weapon in his life. Yi Heye squatted down and began loading it with some excitement.
He knew that using an RPG in a confined space would be a case of harming the enemy a thousand while harming himself eight hundred. The blast wave from the gun tail alone would be enough to knock him over, not to mention that the projectiles flying around could very well sever Yi Heye's carotid artery.
But it's better than being carried away by that disgusting giant bug. Yi Heye's gaze sharpened as he aimed—
"Aow!!" "Boom!!"
The cannonball and the insect's gaping maw were fired almost simultaneously. In an instant, the insect, along with all the carriages behind it, was blasted with a hole.
The No. 1 carriage and the driver's cabin were directly blown apart. The huge wind threw Yi Heye to the ground, and shrapnel flew everywhere.
With a muffled "bang," a device resembling an airbag was ejected from the breech of the howitzer. Soon, a huge, fluffy sheep-shaped airbag enveloped Yi Heye, shielding him from shrapnel and blocking the hole behind him from the high-altitude airflow.
Yi Heye struggled to climb out of the sheep's belly and looked out the window. At this moment, the remaining eight carriages had been blasted apart by the howitzer and were falling down in pieces, while the driver's cab was plunging forward under the force of the grenade's recoil and the remaining power.
Outside the window, he could already see the towering buildings of Zone B, and not far away, the light rail platform that was about to welcome him to land. The hovering system was more than half destroyed, and the cockpit was falling almost under the influence of gravity. The scene on the ground kept expanding in front of him.
During the suffocatingly rapid descent, Yi Heye remained surprisingly calm. He struggled to overcome the force of gravity, managed to get up, and crawled to the complex instrument panel using both hands and feet.
Before him, a chilling red light illuminated the scene, and the wailing alarm made his heart nearly stop. He straightened up amidst the crushing weight that seemed to be crushing his bones.
These are all brain-computer interface signals that deceive the brain. Yi Heye silently recited them while trying to decipher the string of English on the control panel—the crash was fake, but he couldn't understand the snakeskin-like English, which was indeed real.
He gritted his teeth, just about to push the nearest putter with his terrible understanding, when a slight electric current jolted his hand away.
As Yi Heye tucked his hand, which was tingling from the electric shock, he saw the familiar blue light emanating from the dashboard in front of him. Then, the buttons automatically adjusted, and the lever that was about to thud flew in the opposite direction from his original plan.
As the cockpit drew closer to the ground, Yi Heye felt a bit short of breath. He pushed aside the robot's half-body in the cockpit, sat down, and put on the oxygen mask that had fallen from the roof.
He held onto the seat while watching the rapidly changing dashboard in front of him.
Well, it's not a four-dimensional model, nor does it have a sheep's head. Song Zhouzhou is indeed reliable and low-key.
In front of him, the alarm blared incessantly, the alert level was dropping lower and lower, and behind him, the large sheep blocking the hatch was making a terrifying hissing sound, as if constantly reminding Yi Heye that he was about to die.
But amidst a series of crackling sounds, the rate of descent clearly stabilized.
The dashboard gradually changed from red to green, the course that had veered off course to the Arctic was brought back on track, and finally the cockpit landed lightly, rolling on the ground with a slightly coquettish tumble.
Yi Heye was once again thrown into the sheep's belly, where the soft wool enveloped him, and the four earth-shattering tremors seemed to have nothing to do with him.
After a long while, once the aftershocks had subsided, the sheep finally deflated completely, turning into a shrunken sheepskin.
Yi Heye staggered out of the cockpit, then couldn't hold it in and stumbled to the corner to retch.
However, before he could recover from the dizziness, the rustling sounds around him startled him, and a bad premonition came over him. When he looked up, he found that the exit hall in front of him was filled with a dark mass of robots, their red eyes flashing at him.
There were at least a thousand robots in front of them, densely packed together, like the result of an infinite replication caused by a computer system malfunction. Their movements were also surprisingly synchronized, all pointing the gun barrels on their heads at Yi Heye.
……Oh shit.
Yi Heye almost collapsed to the ground with a jolt in his legs—he hadn't even caught his breath before he'd fallen into the enemy's lair again.
One against twenty is more than enough, but this is more than two thousand. Even if Yi Heye were a cannon reincarnated, he probably wouldn't be able to withstand it.
He glanced at the station's entrances and found them all completely blocked. His brain, still reeling from the oxygen deprivation and motion sickness, was momentarily paralyzed.
Just as he stared blankly at the horde of robots slowly surging towards him, his heart, which had remained calm even during a high-altitude fall, began to race, a system notification popped up with a "meow":
"Congratulations on acquiring the clearing skill: Stampede of Sheep. Would you like to use it now?"
Yi Heye's mind was foggy. He only saw the words "clear the area" and was confused by the familiar bleating of sheep, so he clicked "confirm" without hesitation.
The next second, the surrounding lights suddenly flickered, and amidst the chanting "baa" sounds, the red light above the robot's head also strangely distorted.
On the ground and walls, the shadows of jet-black sheep coiled up, and under the red light, they looked like a group of eerie demons, surging and screeching.
This scene reminded Yi Heye of the first time SHEEP invaded his home, a scene both spectacular and terrifying.
Then, the sound of sheep hooves thundering all around echoed, as if countless armored vehicles were rumbling past, seemingly trying to crush the mountains and fill the ravines.
The robot sea triggered a strange and eerie alarm.
In the blink of an eye, the world fell silent. It was as if the exploding universe had been suddenly evacuated into a vacuum. Yi Heye wondered if he had lost his hearing in the midst of the loud noise.
Then, the robots suddenly began to convulse, and with a synchronized, strange sound, they were torn apart as if by the claws of terrifying giant beasts, scattering all over the ground in a chaotic mess.
The red light that had filled the area dissipated, and the robots that had just crowded the exit retreated instantly. The eerie sense of oppression and the menacing shadows of the sheep seemed to have never existed and had become hidden away.
The bustling activity turned into calm, like a machine about to go berserk in the summer heat being doused with a bucket of ice water, leaving only a wisp of dying heat.
Yi Heye stood still, not having had a chance to move at all.
Damn, Yi Heye's reaction time slowly came to its senses—even he had to admit that it was indeed truly spectacular.
Just as he shook his head, groggily lifted his leg, and prepared to leave the station, the notice board lit up again:
"Dear customer, please take a moment to give our clearing service a five-star review!"
Yi Heye glanced at the little sheep head at the end of the notice board, then at the scattered debris in front of him, and chuckled as he recovered.
He swiped his beautiful fingers across the screen quickly, giving it a five-star rating (default comment).
"The shopkeeper, Yang, is handsome and patient, providing excellent service. I'm very satisfied with the product quality; it's great value for money. I'll definitely come back next time!"
Author's Note:
Running a business is tough, please give Little Sheep a good review! qwq
Chapter 35, number 035
After giving a five-star review, Yi Heye discovered the string of self-praising comments.
He found it amusing, but looking at the mess on the ground, he also felt a sense of relief.
He wanted to focus his energy on dealing with Blue Sheep, rather than being overwhelmed by a sea of small fry before even encountering a real enemy.
At this moment, in Yi Heye's room, Xiao Yunduo, who was intently staring at the screen, looked up at Jian Yunxian beside her and asked, "Huh?"
Jian Yunxian had just opened his eyes when he turned to look at Xiaoyunduo: "You asked me why I didn't just clear the area for him directly, instead of going through all that trouble and sending him a confirmation message?"
The little cloud nodded: "Meow."
“Because he said he doesn’t like others touching his prey,” Jian Yunxian said with a smile. “So even if you’re doing a good deed, you have to get his permission first.”
Little Cloud rolled her eyes, annoyed by his constant fuss: "Meow."
At this moment, Yi Heye, who was completely unaware that he had been rejected by the fat sheep, had just regained his composure.
He searched the ground, picked up a bunch of magazines, and then picked out a few guns that he liked, stuffing them into the infinite storage box that Siwei had urgently developed for him.
Finally getting down to business, Yi Heye unceremoniously packed up the items, silently urging Siwei to abandon the weapons manufacturing industry as soon as possible.
After sweeping through the area, Yi Heye felt much more at ease and headed out of the station.
As soon as he stepped out of the station, a strong, pungent smell made Yi Heye frown.
He covered his mouth and nose with his collar before he could barely open his eyes—
The street in front of us was shrouded in thick fog, with visibility less than five meters. Only the jingling traffic lights at the intersections could be vaguely seen.
As soon as he opened his eyes, Yi Heye felt a stinging sensation in them, and tears streamed uncontrollably down his face. He also felt a slight burning sensation in his lungs.
Poisonous fog.
The moment this concept came to mind, Yi Heye's idea of enjoying pain vanished. He even felt dizzy and his blood pressure bar on his forehead began to drop rapidly.
Yi Heye turned around, wanting to hide back in the station hall, but found that the door behind him was already closed.
He dared not breathe, yet he could not bear the oxygen slowly running out. He watched his health bar approach the danger level step by step, as if he were being forced underwater, where he would die whether he breathed or not.
The feeling of oxygen deprivation from holding his breath made his heart race. Soon, his head was buzzing, and his vision began to blur. Frustrated, he squatted down, tugging at the hem of his clothes with his fingers, but to no avail.