Infinite Survival: My 10,000x Return System

[Ding!]

[Initiating forced deceleration.]

The world outside the train suddenly turned into a violent blur.

Stopping a massive, heavily armored convoy moving at Mach 2 was not a delicate process. It was a brutal fight against the laws of physics.

Arthur gripped the edges of the control console tightly as the system executed his command.

"SCREEEEECH!"

The sound was apocalyptic. The massive, hyper-magnetic brakes of the Iron Convoy slammed down onto the frictionless rails. The sheer kinetic friction generated a shockwave of heat that instantly turned the air outside the train into a blurry haze of rippling distortion.

A localized earthquake ripped through the desert. The metal floor of the engine cabin violently buckled and groaned under Arthur’s boots. He gritted his teeth, his dense muscles straining just to stay standing as the G-force tried to hurl him through the front windshield.

Sparks the size of small cars erupted from the underbelly of the train. They sprayed out into the wasteland like a continuous, blinding fireworks show.

The screeching metal drowned out all other sound. The train violently pitched from side to side, the glowing plasma joints connecting the cargo cars straining to keep the massive centipede from tearing itself apart.

A tidal wave of thick, grey dust was kicked up into the atmosphere, completely blacking out the sky around them.

The speed dropped. Mach 1. Five hundred miles per hour. One hundred.

Finally, with a massive, shuddering groan that sounded like a dying beast, the Iron Convoy ground to a violent halt in the middle of the dead wasteland.

The silence that followed was heavy and ringing.

Arthur let out a slow breath. He released his death grip on the console and flexed his fingers. The heavy scent of burnt ozone, melted metal, and scorched earth filled the cabin.

He stepped over the groaning, incapacitated guards and walked to the side door of the engine car. He kicked the heavy metal door open and stepped out into the swirling dust storm.

He stood on the edge of the track, adjusting his suit jacket. He looked completely unbothered by the fact that he had just hijacked a heavily armed corporate asset.

A moment later, two hover bikes tore through the settling dust.

Vane and Cassia pulled up alongside the stopped train. They cut the engines and stepped off their bikes. Both of them were covered in soot, dirt, and minor scrapes.

Cassia slung her sniper rifle over her shoulder and wiped a smudge of grease off her cheek. She looked at the massive, smoking train, and then at Arthur.

"You actually stopped it," Cassia laughed, a genuine sound of amazed respect. "I thought you were going to blow the engine and kill us all."

"I told you," Arthur smirked. "I don’t break the assets. I just acquire them."

Vane grunted. The scarred hero holstered his heavy broadsword. He looked entirely exhausted, but his hard eyes were gleaming with a rare spark of satisfaction.

"The escort skiffs are grounded. The turrets are offline," Vane reported, walking up to them. "We own the train. Now, let’s get paid."

Arthur nodded. "Let’s do the inventory. Open the vaults."

They walked down the side of the massive locomotive. The heat radiating off the undercarriage was intense enough to make them sweat. The cargo cars were colossal, rectangular blocks of solid, starlight-forged steel. They possessed no windows. They just had massive, heavy vault doors on the sides.

They reached the first car. Cassia stepped up to the electronic keypad.

"Don’t bother hacking it," Arthur said. "I have admin rights."

He tapped his system interface, sending a wireless unlock command.

"CLACK."

The heavy locking mechanisms disengaged. Vane grabbed the thick metal handle of the door and pulled with his raw, kinetic strength. The door groaned and slid open.

They looked inside.

"Empty," Cassia sighed, looking at the dark, cavernous space. "Just some spare engine parts and maintenance gear."

"Keep moving," Arthur ordered. "They wouldn’t put the capital in the front cars. It’s too exposed to frontal assaults."

They moved down the line. They reached the second car. Arthur unlocked it. Vane pulled it open.

Empty again. Just stacks of empty spatial rings waiting to be filled.

They walked up to the third cargo car.

Arthur tapped his interface. The lock clicked open.

"This is it," Vane muttered, his massive hands gripping the wheel of the door. "This is where Silas hides the Merit Energy. Get your bags ready, corporate. We are about to be very rich."

Vane planted his boots and pulled hard. The heavy steel door slid back with a loud, metallic hiss, revealing the pitch-black interior of the cargo hold.

Vane stepped forward, ready to bask in the blinding silver light of pure cosmic capital.

But there was no light. There was no glowing mist.

Vane froze.

His hand slowly dropped from the door handle. The excited, battle-high grin on his scarred face completely vanished. The color drained from his cheeks, leaving him looking sickly pale. His eyes widened in absolute, unadulterated horror.

He just stood there, staring into the dark car, completely paralyzed.

"Vane?" Cassia asked, her brow furrowing in confusion. She stepped up behind him. She looked inside.

Cassia’s breath hitched. Her hand instinctively dropped to her stun pistols, but she didn’t draw them. She just covered her mouth, her silver eyes reflecting pure shock.

"Arthur," Vane said. His rough voice was entirely hollow. "Arthur. Get down here."

Arthur’s predatory smirk slowly faded. The tone in Vane’s voice wasn’t the sound of a man who had found a trap. It was the sound of a man who had found a nightmare.

Arthur walked over. His polished boots crunched against the gravel. He pushed past Vane and stood in the doorway, staring into the gloom.

The car wasn’t full of energy.

It was full of people.

Hundreds of them. They were crammed into the dark, stifling space like cattle. They were starved, filthy, and dressed in tattered rags. Thick, glowing chains made of suppression magic bound their wrists and ankles, chaining them directly to the metal walls and floor of the train.

They were aliens, humans, and minor cultivators. They huddled together in terror, blinking blindly at the sudden sunlight pouring into the car. They shrank back, expecting to be beaten.

Silas Vance wasn’t just running a casino. He was running a cosmic trafficking ring. He was using slave labor to mine the raw Merit Energy in the outer rims.

"Fvck," Cassia whispered into the silence.

Vane’s hands began to shake. A deep, righteous fury ignited in his eyes. His hand dropped to the hilt of his broadsword. The hero of the Frontier looked ready to march back to Sector 5 and burn the entire Iron Consortium to the ground.

Arthur didn’t say a word. He didn’t look angry. He didn’t look pitiful. He just stared at the chained mortals with cold, calculating eyes.

He pulled up his system interface.

[Ding!]

[Scanning cargo hold interior...]

[Multiple biological entities detected. Status: Unregistered Mortals.]

[Estimated Count: 400 assets.]

Arthur’s jaw tightened. He closed the system prompt. He had come here to steal a bank’s money. Instead, he had just acquired a massive, traumatized workforce.

The hostile takeover had just gotten a lot more complicated.