Train

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[■■■ launches a brand-new DLC! Limited time only!]

[■■■-DLC Fog City: a whole new map, new NPCs, new professions/animals/plants/fish/facilities! High freedom, fresh gameplay, earn more money, build your own home!]

[*Fog City*: a famous metropolis of the Golden Age, pioneers sounded the horn of industry, as theology and the strange mist were gradually dispelled...]

[Would you like to load this DLC and venture to the new world?]

[No/Yes][09:99:99]

Alna, who was diligently watering her crops one by one, paused, surprised.

■■■ was a game recommended by a friend, who said it was developed by a studio that had collected remnants of old farming games, rewrote the story, and released a retro farming game, featuring new technology in an old era.

After the catastrophe, ancient civilization data was scarce, let alone game resources. So when this game launched, it immediately set the global gaming community ablaze.

But what fun is there in digging weeds and farming with a hoe? Had she not suffered enough at work, or was she not educated enough to use drones for remote management?

Initially, Alna didn't care. Now, with over five hundred hours played, she admitted the game did have a certain charm.

She hadn't expected the game to receive a huge injection of funds to develop an entirely new historical setting and gameplay.

Since she was on holiday and had time to immerse herself, she quickly scanned the pop-up introductions, her mind gliding through the sprawling text, distilling it into a few words.

Wealthy city dwellers in need of vegetables.

New version, new map, new buildings! Exciting! Let's go!

Alna clicked the option on the right, confirming at lightning speed, lest these unpredictable games make the update vanish before the countdown ends.

She deftly opened the purchase page, scrolled through the newly popped-up terms window, skipped the lengthy clauses, and clicked confirm, confirm, confirm.

After three rapid taps, a brown progress bar appeared, slowly advancing until it turned a bright neon green.

[The train to London arrives in ten minutes. Are you ready?]

A new map right away?

Wonderful! She’d thought they'd require a new save from scratch!

Everyone knows that when exploring a new map, the old currency often becomes unusable (after all, the new map might be some remote primitive place where only shells are accepted), and food in your backpack may not be enough, even if edible.

Especially when fighting monsters, since eating is tied to health recovery in most games.

So, aside from players who rush to max out combat and defense stats immediately, wise players will replace all tools with fresh ones before leaving, and pack food that maximizes fullness, to avoid dying and having to reload.

Alna was no exception.

After all, she was an ordinary fan of scavenging, building homes, and farming!

So she dashed to her warehouse, grabbed her gold hoe, gold axe, and gold pickaxe.

Then to the fridge, took 999 units of food, leaving other slots empty.

Don’t ask why not use the highest durability tools—because gold is shiny and beautiful.

She had hoarded a whole box, still not used up.

With all essentials packed, Alna happily shouldered her bag, climbed the crude wooden stairs, bought a ticket with her coins, and waited for the train.

"Normally," she said confidently, "with high-quality gear, I’ll absolutely dominate the new map, right?"

After all, how hard can a farming game’s DLC be?

Surely they won’t make her build a home in a swamp, battling mosquitoes, vine tentacles, frogs, and fishfolk as she sweats over her crops?

Or mine while fighting bugs, needing special ores to till the land?

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At worst, the developers might toss in some Lovecraftian elements—sacrifices, octopus monsters, eyes everywhere, a drop in sanity to spook the players.

No matter, she had plenty of flower tea prepared! A comprehensive defense against the developers' little tricks!

**

"Tickets, please! Thank you!"

"Please have your ticket ready in advance, if you would."

Outside, the conductor called out loudly. In the carriage, Alna stared blankly at the table stacked high with food and her forcibly reduced-capacity backpack, silent.

...Damn it, not only did the new map refuse old currency, it was also incompatible with her 999 stacking mod.

She had packed little flower tea, which held up, but most of the sandwiches had dropped—dozens crowded the table, others vanished, probably lost to a glitch outside.

She squeezed further into the carriage, hoping to trigger a clipping bug to retrieve her dropped items, checked the floor for any sandwich-stealing monster, but found nothing.

Damn, the sandwiches—she’d spent ages making them—

More troubling was, where to find something to store the sandwiches still on the table?

Use the spare slots in her backpack?

No, clever players find other ways, like scavenging and exploiting bugs.

Alna looked around the carriage for clues.

Nothing—no trash bin to rummage, no curtain to tear.

The next moment, the door slid open. Outside stood a tall, thin man, around thirty or forty, clearly the conductor.

Alna’s gaze sharpened instantly.

Maybe hand the ticket over, then knock him out while he checks it, use his uniform to wrap up the sandwiches?

It seemed feasible.

Based on her scavenging experience, anything the player can take is intended by the developers.

With that in mind, Alna handed over her ticket.

Charlie, the conductor, shivered as the person in front stared at him relentlessly, refusing to let go of the ticket.

...No way, no way, did they notice him sneaking glances at the sandwiches?

It was just past one in the afternoon. He'd slept in due to bad weather, got scolded by his wife, missed breakfast, and had to cover a colleague at noon, so still hadn’t eaten.

The sandwiches piled on the table looked fresh and generous—Charlie couldn’t help staring.

It was a long way to the next stop, and there was no dining car. Maybe he could buy a sandwich from this passenger?

Starving, he considered how to start a conversation, and cleared his throat, leading with a universal phrase.

"...Lovely weather today, isn’t it?" he forced a smile.

Alna ignored the dialogue bubbles, waiting for the conductor to check her ticket so she could proceed with her plan.

—Should she attack with the gold axe or the gold hoe? The opponent's health bar looked low, but what if this NPC was secretly a hidden boss? Maybe better to use the sword with 9999 damage?

Noticing her silence, Charlie felt his intentions had been seen through. "Well, sorry, I actually wanted to ask—how much for a sandwich? To be honest, I’m rather hungry..."

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The trading module lit up on her interface. Alna, about to nonchalantly pull out her hammer, paused.

In the silence, Charlie pressed on, "Sir, one penny for a sandwich—how about it?"

Still no response, but no outright refusal—a sign negotiations were possible, just not satisfied with the price.

Mostly, he was truly hungry.

He had to have one of those sandwiches today!

Silence persisted.

"Two pence for one sandwich?" Charlie tried again.

He paused, seeing no reaction, then offered his best price, pulling out all his coins and laying them on the seat: "Three pence each, no more—I only have these, and you know, that price would buy two sandwiches on the streets of London!"

Alna glanced at the interface, suddenly enlightened.

So this was the prelude to the new business management mode?

...But to force the player to open shop with their own rations—that’s stingy! And the bug wiped out her stock!

Seeing the trading panel offer 3 pence per sandwich, above market price, Alna cheerfully handed Charlie a sandwich and took his three coins.

What did this mean?

It meant she was about to get rich! Opportunities to sell ordinary goods above market price were rare!

Her judgment proved correct.

Once the conductor bought a sandwich, he dutifully returned her ticket and resumed his duties.

Other NPCs, hearing “the conductor said there are lots of sandwiches for sale here,” “I want one too,” “amazing, this rundown carriage actually has food for sale,” rushed over to buy sandwiches.

Management sim mechanics: as long as the shop stays open, customers appear endlessly from every corner.

She handed out the last two sandwiches that wouldn’t fit in her backpack, welcomed the final customer, then closed the carriage door to rest.

The map in the upper right corner showed half an hour to the destination, her stamina had dropped quickly while selling sandwiches, and she needed sleep to recover.

Alna hugged her bundle, leaned against the window, closed her eyes, and drifted off.

Meanwhile, John Watson, carefully carrying two sandwiches along the narrow corridor back to their compartment, felt incredibly lucky.

“Look what I managed to buy, Holmes,” he said, smiling. “The last two—a stroke of luck!”

Because of Holmes's latest case, they'd been rushing about for days, barely eating a proper meal. Their stomachs had protested for ages, and all they wanted was to return to London for a good feast and reward themselves.

But before a banquet, a bite to fill their stomachs wouldn’t go amiss, would it?

Watson closed the door, handed one sandwich to his companion, then sat down, unwrapped his own, and took a bite.

He’d expected train food to taste ordinary, but was pleasantly surprised.

“Hmm… Though it’s cold, the flavor’s quite good,” Watson mumbled, crumbs sticking to his short beard, urging his partner, “Eat up, Holmes, you must be famished.”

His companion, known as Holmes, held the sandwich, still pondering the just-concluded case.

After a moment, he returned to himself, slowly peeled back the wrapper, and took a bite.