Chapter 2 (2/2)

It made people develop a sense of friendliness towards him, such that they were willing to listen to him speak. After all, he was someone who had attained enlightenment and become a Buddha. A Victorious Fighting Buddha was also a Buddha, alright?

“This monk’s Dharma name1 is Xuanzang.”

Tang Luo added, “I am a direct disciple of Buddhism and am slightly versed in some demon subduing and vanquishing techniques. Should the few benefactors here meet with danger, you may look for this monk. I can protect you and keep you safe.”

In Tang Luo’s eyes, these people weren’t simply some kind of players risking their lives to complete a mission. Each and every one of them was a walking virtuous merit, whose faces carried ill omens and had the star of Alcor1 hanging over their heads.

Since they were using their lives to play, there would naturally be times where they got out of line while playing.

Saving a life was of boundless beneficence.

This was exactly a time where he needed virtuous merits to treat his injuries. This sudden turn of events just so happened to satisfy Tang Luo’s needs.

Heaven was totally on his side.

Fate played out in the most intriguing of ways.

“Really?” Everyone couldn’t help being somewhat lost for words after hearing Tang Luo’s words. They didn’t know what sort of expression they should be making.

‘Xuanzang? Why don’t you say that your Dharma name is Itinerant Monk?’

“A person of religion boasts not.” Everything that Tang Luo said was the absolute truth.

As if he had a eureka moment, Spectacles suddenly asked with mild mockery, “Master, do you know qinggong1?”

“No.” Tang Luo shook his head.

It wasn’t a posturing kind of “I don’t know qinggong, but I am skilled in divine powers and techniques that are even more impressive than qinggong”.

He really wasn’t skilled in it.

Tang Luo was a cultivator, who was very, very overly proficient in one aspect but completely unversed in others. The style he went for was one which ‘overcomes all with one extremely well-honed skill’.

As for all these mysterious and fascinating divine powers and techniques? He didn’t know any of them.

In times of need, he would rely completely on the Jade Lotus of Virtuous Merit for support.

“I see, so you don’t.” Spectacles chuckled dryly.

Everyone else turned away again too, intending to leave the train carriage.

Tang Luo didn’t care whether or not they believed him either. Just leaving such an impression within their minds would do.

In times of crisis, they would naturally clutch this one last life-saving straw. And at that time, Tang Luo would save them, and that would do.

Should they really not believe it one bit, Tang Luo wasn’t one to insist either. As a Buddha, how could he possibly not adopt a Buddha-style attitude1?

Zhou Zhenguo took the lead and walked out of the train carriage. Tang Luo was the last to exit. The moment he stepped out, there was a slight change in the look in his eyes.

The vital energy there was considerably richer than on Earth, meaning it was beneficial to the recovery of his injuries.

The group explored the surroundings while whispering to each other.

Outside the train carriage was an abandoned subway station. It was extremely narrow and small. It was practically a cage wrapping around the train carriage.

What was noteworthy was that the train carriage, which Tang Luo and the rest had been in, was really just a carriage of a train. There was no head or tail of a train.

The tracks that the train had been moving along on their way there had already disappeared after they stepped outside. What they saw now was just a wall.

The only way out was a hollowed out and tightly sealed metal door on the platform. Behind the metal door was a staircase leading upwards.

It was pitch-black all around, yet gusts of chilly and sinister wind blew from somewhere, causing goosebumps to rise all over their skin.

After they adapted to the darkness and, with some difficulty, became able to see, Zhou Zhenguo reached out and felt around the metal door. He pulled at it forcefully a couple of times.

“Stand back a little,” said Zhou Zhenguo as he gestured to the group of people behind him to move back a certain distance after failing to open the metal door.

Then, he launched a flying kick, causing a deafening bang to echo around the platform.

With a grunt, Zhou Zhenguo squatted down.

“What’s wrong, Uncle Zhou?” asked Spectacles.

Everyone had already exchanged their names and other basic information, such as their occupations earlier.

However, Zhou Zhenguo had also proposed that they do not give out their real names. Just an alias would do.

He called himself Old Zhou.

Thus, the others also addressed him respectfully as Uncle Zhou. After all, this was someone whom they needed to cling tightly onto for their lives.

The others also followed suit and gave out family names that one couldn’t tell whether they were real or fake either.

Various forms of ‘Little XXs’ surfaced, making this seem like a staff retreat of some company.

“I’m fine. I just stubbed my toe,” replied Lifesaver Zhou Zhenguo.

“…”

‘Let’s count on ourselves. Relying on others is never as dependable as relying on ourselves.’

Although Zhou Zhenguo stubbed his toe, his kick was still effective.

The metal door was opened very quickly. Everyone walked up the stairs.

The air that was originally musty also became somewhat fresher.

Before long, specks of light appeared in front of them, followed by yet another metal door.

This time round, Zhou Zhenguo found the correct spot, and with another kick, the metal door fell right off.

All of them entered a tiny room that was even narrower and smaller than the subway station. To their sides were stone walls.

Only a passageway barely capable of fitting two people side by side was in the center.

Moonlight shone into the room through a half-open door at the other end of the passageway.

“This is a crypt!” Someone managed to identify the style of the room.

That was a western-style crypt. In other words, the kind of tiny chamber that was similar to a coffin. The ‘stone walls’ on either side of the passageway were actually ‘coffins’. Names and the time of birth and death would even typically be inscribed on top, while some even had simple biographies.

None of them liked to stay in the crypt, so everyone hurried along and left.

When Tang Luo, who was the furthest at the back, stepped out of the crypt, from somewhere, a gust of cold and sinister wind slammed the door behind him shut.

At the same time, the originally half-hidden moon in the sky became completely covered by dark clouds blown over by the wind.

The moonlight that could still be considered rather bright and clear disappeared. Instantly, everyone was shrouded in pitch-black darkness.

Tang Luo turned back and glanced at the crypt behind him with a strange and thoughtful look on his face.

In no time, his countenance resumed its original serenity and tranquility.