After the train rumbled to life, Chi Mu began analyzing the known rules.
The word "time" appeared repeatedly throughout the rules, and even the title of this twisted tale—Seven-Day Train—was tied directly to time. That alone proved one thing: in this nightmare, time would be crucial.
Rules 1, 2, and 3 made it painfully clear—time on this train is an illusion. Everything that appears to tell or record time is likely false.
That meant Chi Mu couldn't rely on clocks or any external source. He'd have to keep track of the time himself.
In Dragon Nation's war room, the strategy team was hard at work decoding the new set of rules. Qin Jianghe felt the pressure mounting.
"This is an S-class horror. Everyone—full focus! No mistakes!"
"Yes, sir!"
—"There are angels and demons aboard this train. I have a feeling... one of the three people in that cabin must be a demon."—"Doesn't matter. Mu God will handle it."
Back in the compartment, Chi Mu prepared to leave and buy water. Rule 4 demanded that each passenger drink at least six bottles of three-liter water per day.
That amount couldn't be consumed all at once. It had to be spaced out—and ideally finished during the day. According to Rule 6, once the hallway lights turned off, he could only use the restroom once.
Drinking eighteen liters and only peeing once at night? That was practically suicide.
Just as Chi Mu stepped out, a train attendant pushed a cart by. On it were bottles—three liters each. Perfect.
"Hello, I'd like to buy six bottles."
"Certainly. That'll be fifty yuan."
Chi Mu dug through his pockets and found a wad of bills—likely provided by the horror itself to the chosen ones.
He handed over a hundred-yuan note. The attendant gave him an apologetic look.
"Sorry, sir. I don't have any change right now. May I give you a slip of paper instead?"
"A... slip of paper?"
Chi Mu hesitated, then nodded. "Sure."
After grabbing his water, he unfolded the slip. His heart skipped a beat.
It listed the conditions to clear this horror.
SS-Class Mission: Identify all demons and disembark on the seventh day.S-Class Mission: Disembark on the seventh day.
Only two objectives this time—and the lowest was already S-class.
Chi Mu's brows furrowed. Both missions hinged on getting off the train on the seventh day.
He immediately connected this to the earlier rules. Since the train intentionally prevented any reliable time tracking—and every time-related object might be fake—he couldn't trust clocks or calendars.
Which meant… he had to mentally track the passage of time. A single miscount, and he might either get off too early—or too late—and fail the mission.
That thought sent a shiver down his spine.
From now on, he had to constantly measure the passage of time—estimate it periodically—to maintain his awareness.
Meanwhile, in the Bharat Nation livestream...
Their chosen one had just walked out of the cabin to buy water, mirroring Chi Mu's movements.
After paying, the attendant smiled and said, "Sorry, sir. I don't have any change. May I give you a slip of paper?"
"What? No way! I want my change—not some sketchy paper."
The attendant's smile twisted unnaturally. "Very well, sir. Please wait a moment."
He returned to the previous car and brought back some coins.
The Bharat chosen one snorted. "Hmph. Thought you could scam me? Not today!"
—"HAHAHA! What a moron! He just missed his one chance to learn the mission. He's screwed."—"Oh my god, is this the legendary courage of Bharat? Even refused the mission slip?"
Back in Bharat's control room, the president almost fainted.
"Bring me his entire family! Seal them in cement barrels and dump them into the Ganges as sacrifice!"
Unaware of the mistake he had made, the poor chosen one from Bharat Nation walked away, blissfully ignorant.
And it wasn't just him.
Across the world, in country after country, similar events played out. Many chosen ones rejected the paper slips—not realizing they had just signed their death warrants.
Without the mission… they'd have no chance of surviving.
Chi Mu pocketed the slip, cracked open a bottle, and took a long, desperate gulp.
Chugging down three liters in one go, he nearly retched.
Only five bottles left.
"I swear... I never wanna drink water again."
After resting, he forced himself to down another bottle.
"Damn it..."
Muttering curses, he grabbed the remaining four bottles and returned to his compartment.
As soon as he stepped inside, the young man with glasses greeted him.
"Hey there! I'm Zhang Dada. What's your name?"
"Chi Mu."
Zhang Dada grinned and hopped down from his bunk, launching into an excited rant about his entire life story.
Chi Mu's eye twitched. This guy was seriously annoying.
He gave the occasional reply, but his mind was elsewhere—still working on how to track the passage of days.
He peeked outside. Still dark.
So... he couldn't rely on day or night cycles either.
Figures. He'd need a completely unique method to record time.
Just then, he felt the urge to pee.
"Uh, I've gotta use the bathroom. Let's talk later…"
Cutting Zhang Dada off mid-story, Chi Mu hurried toward the restroom.
Relieving himself with a blissful sigh, he leaned into the moment.
With a final shiver, he flushed the toilet and turned to leave.
But then—on the back of the bathroom door—he saw it.
A wall of bright, bold text:
Rule Sequence Two