Chapter Eight: The Grand Furniture Shopping Spree

According to Lin Xian’s plan, the foundation for ensuring the train’s long-term survival cycle was solving the energy problem. His supernatural ability addressed most of this issue, but the sole drawback was that it drained his physical strength and required intense concentration, making it difficult for him to focus on other complex tasks simultaneously.

Next came the essentials for survival: defense and food. Lin Xian understood these could not be achieved overnight. Just modifying Carriage No. 1 and reinforcing the exterior armor had already consumed several months of his effort; expecting immediate perfection was nothing more than wishful thinking. Moreover, he was alone, and Chen Sixuan could hardly assist in these matters.

“If possible, I need to find a few teammates—first, a crew to handle mechanical maintenance and operate the train; someone skilled in cultivation...” he muttered.

“Like a botanist or a hydroponics expert, to grow some fresh vegetables and fruits, and help with water and air purification.”

“Oh, and a chef for food preparation…”

“Definitely a doctor too, for any illnesses, big or small…”

“Not all can be specialists; we’ll need fighters, preferably those with supernatural powers.”

“Hmm, and a sentinel team as well…”

The more Lin Xian thought about it, the more absurd it seemed. He quickly exhaled and refocused on driving the train.

“Aos Furniture City…”

From afar, he spotted a massive building. His expression tightened. “This place usually sells all sorts of furniture, with few people around. There probably won’t be much useful material, but I might find something to keep warm, like bedding.”

Lin Xian wasn’t thinking about romantic matters. Since the Day of Revelation, vast regions around the world had experienced significant temperature drops. Although Jiang City was in the midst of August, summer, daytime temperatures hovered around 12 to 13 degrees Celsius, and nighttime plunged to just a few degrees. Each day, the temperature seemed to fall further.

He guessed that the dark tide caused by the Star Abyss, blotting out the sky, had drastically altered the climate—perhaps even ushering in an icy, frigid era. If so, preparing warm supplies in advance would be wise foresight.

The train screeched to a halt on an open-air track, surrounded by a tall iron wire fence. On both sides lay city avenues. Abandoned vehicles cluttered the road; with few people in the area, even the undead were scarce, lending an eerie quietness.

Because the terrain was flat, neither in a tunnel nor on an elevated track, and with the fence nearby, Lin Xian judged this spot relatively safe for loading items onto the train.

“Teacher Chen, wait on the train. I’ll check inside,” Lin Xian said, slinging on his backpack and grabbing his short blade. “Besides me, don’t open the door for anyone.”

“I understand,” Chen Sixuan replied nervously. “If there’s a lot to carry, wouldn’t it be better if I came with you?”

“Not for now,” Lin Xian answered. “This place looks like it’s already been looted once. I’ll scout ahead. If there’s anything useful, you can come down to help move it.”

He tossed her a walkie-talkie. “We’ll use this to stay in contact; cell signals might not work.”

“Okay,” Chen Sixuan said, clutching the device.

Lin Xian opened the carriage door and jumped down, surveying the area carefully. He climbed the wire fence and slipped into the greenery beyond, then crossed the street.

In front of the furniture city was a huge parking lot, now a mess with a few broken-down cars sparsely scattered. His ability to devour machines made vehicles ideal prey—cars were everywhere in the apocalypse; the problem was the time it took. He hoped that once his mechanical devouring skill improved, it would become more efficient.

For now, he could only bring a few machines back to the train and operate them safely.

At the main gate stood pools of dark crimson blood, with many seemingly new product fragments scattered around. The cold wind swept through, making the scene desolate.

Lin Xian entered cautiously. The space opened up dramatically. He had visited here before; every store was luxuriously decorated with wide, quiet aisles and little foot traffic. After the apocalypse, it had become even more deserted.

He barely spotted any corpses.

Passing by brand-name furniture stores, most remained clean and orderly, with sofas and mattresses displayed, and bathrooms on the second floor. The vast emptiness made walking alone somewhat unsettling.

“This Simmons mattress is nice, medium firm…”

“Latex mattress, thick quilt…”

Such items seemed overlooked in the apocalypse, so most stores here had not been looted.

It made sense: when survival was at stake, everyone rushed to supermarkets and convenience stores. Who would come to a furniture store to snatch pillows?

After picking for a while, Lin Xian grew concerned. These items were bulky and difficult to carry away.

He wandered from the fourth exit to the loading dock, where he spotted several forklifts and a flatbed truck. His eyes lit up—just then, a rotting zombie lunged from the freight elevator shaft!

A pungent stench hit him. Lin Xian instinctively stepped back, then raised his hand and pointed.

A gust of wind blasted forth, punching a hole through the zombie’s head.

The creature fell stiffly, twitching twice before going still.

It wore an orange loading worker’s uniform, likely a worker hiding here during the crisis.

[Wind Cannon LV.1 4/100]

Each use improved his proficiency slightly, but Lin Xian noticed the move drained his energy considerably, so he had to use it sparingly.

He drew his short blade from behind. Facing ordinary zombies, his supernatural powers gave him confidence, as long as he avoided attracting hordes or other monsters.

The flatbed truck’s door and fuel cap were open, clearly looted. He climbed into the driver’s seat and activated the Mechanical Heart, but the backup battery was depleted, so the engine wouldn’t start.

No wonder previous scavengers hadn’t bothered to fix it; they’d siphoned the fuel and fled.

Such small trucks were simple and underpowered, rarely chosen by survivors.

But for Lin Xian, it was a treasure delivered on a silver platter.

He got out, found a forklift, and used his ability to start it. Boldly, he drove the forklift through the back entrance into the furniture city.

He intended to make Carriage No. 1 as comfortable as possible. In the apocalypse, having a cozy living space greatly improved one’s spirits. With his abilities, Lin Xian refused to live like a sewer rat, confined to dark, filthy shelters.