Lin Que had already dimmed the studio lights to their lowest setting.

Only a floor lamp remained, casting a solitary light in the corner.

He stared at the author backstage area of ​​Hongguo Novel Network.

The cursor blinked quietly on the title bar.

His fingers landed on the keyboard, typing the title of the new chapter.

[Last Train]

The words flowed swiftly from his hand.

[...]

Yang Jian stood at the deserted bus stop, rain dripping from the metal edge of the bus stop sign and splashing tiny water droplets on the ground.

He had to get to Guanjiang Residential Area in the west of the city as soon as possible, where new paranormal events had occurred.

At exactly midnight, a bus arrived precisely at the end of the street.

The car body was an old, dark green, and the windows were tightly closed, making it impossible to see inside.

The bus had a sign that read "Route 114" on the front, but the location of the final stop was completely blank.

The car door creaked open, and a musty, stale smell wafted out.

Yang Jian boarded the bus expressionlessly. The bus was dark, illuminated only by the pale light of the streetlights outside.

In the driver's seat sat a paper effigy dressed in a bus driver's uniform, with a stiff smile painted on its face.

Yang Jian took a rusty copper coin from his pocket and dropped it into the coin box.

【"jingle."】

[After a crisp sound, the paper-figure driver stiffly turned his neck, glanced at him, and then restarted the car.]

There were already several "passengers" in the carriage.

They sat motionless in their seats, some with their heads down, others gazing out the window, exuding the same stench of decay as the vehicle itself.

Yang Jian knew that none of them were alive.

The train drove smoothly, stopping and opening its doors at each station, regardless of whether there were people there.

Then, a new "passenger" will board the bus.

A woman wearing a soaked dress, water dripping from it.

A headless man in a suit, cradling his head in his hands.

A child, his body charred black, leaving a trail of black footprints wherever he went.

The seats in the train carriage were gradually filled.

Beside Yang Jian, a young man who was also a survivor was pale and trembling like a leaf.

"Where...where is this car going? Why...why am I feeling colder and colder?"

Yang Jian did not answer him.

He just stared intently at the front of the carriage, at the sign painted in red: [Capacity: Thirty people]

Currently, there are twenty-nine "passengers" on the bus, including him and the young man.

The train has arrived at the station again.

The car door opened, and an elderly man, leaning on a cane, walked unsteadily aboard. He cast no shadow.

[The thirtieth one.]

The carriage is full.

Almost the instant the elderly man sat down, all the "passengers" in the carriage turned their heads in unison.

Their empty, resentful, or numb gazes fell upon the only two living people in the car.

The young survivor finally broke down.

He let out a piercing scream and frantically rushed towards the back door, pounding on it, shouting, "Let me out! Let me out!"

The paper-figure driver did not react.

Inside the carriage, the man in the suit who had been holding his head slowly stood up and walked towards him.

"No! Don't come any closer!"

Yang Jian remained seated, observing coldly.

He knew the rules of this ghost bus. It would never be overloaded.

Once the bus is full, if new passengers board, some passengers must disembark.

Living people have no seats on this vehicle.

The man in the suit walked up behind the young man. He didn't make a move, but gently placed his head, which he had been cradling, on the young man's shoulder.

The young man's scream abruptly ceased. His body began to stiffen and decompose rapidly, turning into a foul-smelling, mummified corpse within seconds.

The man in the suit picked up the young man's head, held it in his hands, and returned to his seat with satisfaction.

Silence returned to the train carriage.

Now, Yang Jian is the only living person left in the car.

The train has arrived at the station again.

The train doors opened, and on the platform stood a little girl in a red dress, giving him a strange smile.

[Capacity: 30 people. Full capacity.]

For it to get on the bus, someone else must get off.

Yang Jian looked at the little girl and slowly stood up.

He didn't rush to the car door, but instead walked to the old man with a cane who had just boarded and hadn't even settled in yet.

He raised his pale hand, which was being consumed by the ghost, and grabbed the old ghost by the neck.

Under the numb gaze of all the ghost passengers, he forcefully threw the old ghost out of the train window.

After doing all this, he casually returned to his seat and sat down.

The train doors closed, leaving the little girl in red on the platform.

The car continues forward.

Lin Que finished writing the last word and clicked publish.

He didn't even refresh the comments section.

I simply picked up my coffee, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, and looked down at the city below.

He knew what kind of bomb he had just dropped.