Chapter 1058: The Mystery of the Train

“Pass a message?” Chu Tianqiu raised an eyebrow. “A ‘Zodiac’ sending me a message…? Which ‘Zodiac’ is it?”

“It’s ‘Snake.'”

Chu Tianqiu pondered for a moment, unable to recall any dealings with a “Snake,” and nodded. “What’s the message?”

Kim Won-hoon hesitated for a few seconds, his expression odd, before glancing up at the two figures hovering in the air. He then whispered, “Brother… Before that, I need to confirm something. Do you think they can hear us?”

Chu Tianqiu also looked up at the sky. The situation was strange—was the “Zodiac’s” message something that had to be kept from Qinglong?

“They probably can hear us,” Chu Tianqiu said. “They’re sitting up there so high… If they couldn’t hear us, they’d be missing half the fun.”

No sooner had he spoken than Qinglong slowly turned his head, locking eyes with him.

Those dark green eyes seemed to see through everything, sending a chill down Chu Tianqiu’s spine.

Now that he thought about it, even an ordinary “Echoer” like Xu Liunian had figured out the trick here—how could Qinglong not hear them?

The problem now was that Kim Won-hoon needed to relay the “Zodiac’s” message without Qinglong knowing. But was it worth taking such a risk for some unknown “Zodiac”?

“Is the message important?” Chu Tianqiu asked again.

“I don’t know…” Kim Won-hoon shook his head. “But it sounds somewhat significant.”

Just as Chu Tianqiu hesitated, Kim Won-hoon suddenly changed the subject. “Brother… How long have we known each other?”

“What?”

“In your memory, how long have we known each other?”

Chu Tianqiu paused. “You and I came from the same interview room… What do you think?”

“Did we talk a lot before?” Kim Won-hoon pressed.

“Yes,” Chu Tianqiu nodded.

“That’s great, brother,” Kim Won-hoon smiled. “I remember I have this bad habit—once I get close to Han Chinese, I unconsciously start teaching them Korean. You’re smarter than most, so you must’ve learned a lot, right?”

“You—”

Kim Won-hoon: “우린 열차에서 (We’re on the train—Korean).”

Chu Tianqiu’s eyes widened instantly.

“Brother… How much of that did you understand?” Kim Won-hoon switched back to Mandarin.

Chu Tianqiu didn’t answer, his mind racing.

He glanced suspiciously at the “doors” before him, recalling the anomaly Qi Xia had caused before the game began. It felt as though some hidden thread connected everything.

“The train…?”

Was this strange square-shaped arena… part of that long, narrow “train”?

And then there were Qi Xia’s words before the game started—”There was never any ‘train’ here, just doors leading to other areas.”

Chu Tianqiu’s thoughts spiraled into chaos.

This was an abstract problem—why was the surrounding space pitch black?

And why was there a game arena in this darkness?

After mapping out the rooms, they’d drawn a purely square layout. But was that accurate?

When they opened a door from Room A and found Room B, they assumed A and B were adjacent.

Thus, they’d drawn a square map.

But with these bizarre “doors” in play… was it possible that Rooms A and B were actually far apart, but the doors forcibly linked them? Visually and spatially, A would always appear next to B.

So from Qinglong and Dilong’s elevated perspective… what was the true structure of this game arena?

Was the central “river” the “train body,” and the countless rooms “compartments”?

Was this still that impossibly long train?

The quickest way to solve this puzzle was to have Kim Won-hoon teleport to Qinglong’s side, survey the arena, and return.

But that would be far too dangerous for him.

“‘Gods’ truly see the world differently from mortals…” Chu Tianqiu muttered, frowning. “Perhaps this is why Qi Xia was so determined to come here… He wanted to unravel the secret of the ‘train’…”

“Brother, you really did understand. I told you you’re smarter than most,” Kim Won-hoon said. “I’ve delivered the message. The rest is up to you.”

Chu Tianqiu paused, then asked, “By the way, Kim Won-hoon, when two people enter a room together… how does the door lock?”

“Huh?”

“I mean…” Chu Tianqiu narrowed his eyes in thought. “Does it lock instantly, or does it wait a few seconds before locking?”

Kim Won-hoon understood the question, but his and Chen Junnan’s experience had been too chaotic—he couldn’t quite recall the details.

“It didn’t lock right away…” he mused. “There was at least a few seconds’ delay. When Dr. Zhao and Sister Xu Liunian left the room, the door slowly closed before locking. I even caught a last glimpse of them.”

Chu Tianqiu nodded. “Kim Won-hoon, now that you have ‘Echo,’ do you think you could leave the room before the door fully closes?”

“Eh?” Kim Won-hoon blinked. “Leave before it locks?”

“Yes,” Chu Tianqiu smiled. “After triggering a game with an opponent, slip out before the door locks. Can you do it?”

“I… I…” Kim Won-hoon flustered. “I probably could—if I can see it, I can go there. But would that really work? Wouldn’t it be against the rules?”

“The ‘rules’ don’t mention this,” Chu Tianqiu chuckled. “Dilong only said the doors lock until the game ends. You could use this method… to trap opponents alone in games. They might run into trouble, and you could single-handedly immobilize multiple enemies. Though it’d be a challenge for you.”

“I see…” Kim Won-hoon frowned. The plan sounded feasible, but it also seemed risky.

“This is just the first phase. You’ll need to control Chen Junnan and Qiao Jiajin. After that, there’s a more critical mission,” Chu Tianqiu said. “Once the path is clear, find a way into the enemy’s ‘preparation zone’ and destroy their ‘display screen’ while Qi Xia isn’t looking.”

“Their ‘display screen’?” Kim Won-hoon’s eyes widened. “If we smash it, they won’t be able to score?”

“Exactly,” Chu Tianqiu nodded. “From then on, you’ll take full control of this game—catch Qi Xia completely off guard.”