Manslaughter
Amid the howling wind, Shen Yuan's voice suddenly emerged from the loudspeaker of the train behind, laced with a hint of playful provocation, clearly striking everyone's ears.
"Lin Mo, be sensible and come out now. That thing isn't something you can keep. In the apocalypse, only by joining an organization can you be worthy of owning a train."
Lin Mo snorted, her fingertips lightly rubbing the Ten-Thousand-Jun Hammer in her pocket, without a shred of hesitation. If she got off the train, she would be the fish on the chopping block.
Moreover, her sharp intuition told her that the force behind Shen Yuan would not easily destroy the train. They wanted an intact train, not a pile of scrap metal.
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