The door closed with a slam. It was so loud that one would think that the door broke from that.
A sick-looking man with a running nose and a dirty, long coat stepped out of his room. It looked like he was currently having the flu, and he seemed very poor.
Rumble—Ambrose suddenly felt his stomach rumbling with hunger.
'I ate a few hours ago, and I am again hungry…' He thought to himself.
"Excuse me, young man." The sick-looking man stayed near the wall and walked past him. "Mind letting this old man pass…"
"Oh, sorry." Ambrose stepped aside and watched as the sick-looking man entered the restaurant car, closing the door behind him.
As he was about to walk past the sick-looking man's room, he smelled something decaying. He covered his nose and looked at the room with a worrying frown.
'What a disgusting stench. Has something died in there?'
"Sheesh…" Ambrose pinched his nose and walked away from the room and the smell.
It smelled like something was rotting there, but he highly doubted it. He just thought that it might be a plugged toilet or something.
He left the sleeping car and closed the door behind him.
Inside the sick-looking man's room, there were withered corpses strewn across the room. They were all skinny, almost made of mere bones as if they died of starvation.
In that moment, they vanished into fleeting pixels, erasing all the traces of them ever being there. However, the disgusting stench still remained.
Near the closed windows, mosquitoes inhaled the stench and let out a short shriek before also dying. They turned skinny, as if they all suffered from sudden starvation.
…
After Ambrose returned to his seat, he witnessed a strange sight.
Everyone in the same car was eating.
The mother-and-son pair in front of him were eating their final sandwiches. They had enough to last a few days, at least, yet they had eaten it all already.
'I am hungry as well, but I would need to log off to fill up my stomach.' Ambrose felt like it was troublesome.
"E-excuse me, young man." The bun-haired woman peeked over the chair and whispered with a pleading look. "Do you have any food with you?"
Mark and Maul were munching on food with dozens of plates piled up in front of them. They didn't even bother swallowing as they stuffed more food inside their mouths.
"Mark, Maul, are you all right?" Ambrose approached them with the kid in his arms, who was still trying to bite through his flesh.
Mark and Maul didn't bother answering, as they were too busy eating.
After smelling the stench of food, the kid jumped out of his arms and smashed into the table. He started stealing food from Mark and Maul and began stuffing the food into his tiny mouth with both hands.
"What is happening?" Ambrose's eyes shook, and he felt like he was living in a nightmare.
At that moment, the rotting stench returned, lingering across the restaurant car.
Ambrose pinched his nose and turned around to look towards the bar counter. The bartender there lay lifelessly on the counter, his eyes dead and his body malnourished.
Then he saw a person sitting in the corner of the restaurant room. It was the sick-looking man who was eating dinner slowly.
Unlike others who stuff food into their mouths like barbarians, he used a fork and knife to cut down the steak and ate slowly.
Ambrose slowly approached him with a careful look and asked. "Sir, are you all right?"
"I am fine and dandy." The sick-looking man took a napkin and blew his nose. "Are you hungry, young man?"
"There is something wrong going on here…" Ambrose pointed at the other table with three figures fighting over food. "Everyone is suddenly starving. Do you know what the hell is happening?"
"A famine has struck." The sick-looking man said and put a piece of steak into his mouth.
"Famine?" Ambrose frowned and clenched his fist, then suspiciously asked. "Are you responsible for this?"
"Responsible?" The sick-looking man put the knife and fork down on the table. "Who can truly say?"
Ambrose drew his wooden sword and placed it against his neck. "Stop this sorcery, or I will."
"You are hungry; go eat." The sick-looking man said.
His words had a strange power in them. His voice sounded ancient and cold, with some roughness, as if his nose were clogged.
"Ugh…" Ambrose collapsed on the ground and hugged his stomach with an agonizing look.
Rumbleee—his stomach rumbled as his body screamed for hunger.
The sick-looking man looked like he had finished eating and stood up while wiping his lips with the napkin. He looked at Ambrose with his black eyes, smiled, and left the restaurant car.
His footsteps echoed with a powerful sound.
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