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Chapter 418 - Wulin Acts

“Stop!” Mo Lan shouted, nary a hint of fear in her voice. “What do you guys have to be afraid of? I’m your hostage now, and you still have a couple more. Protocol dictated that we disconnect the carriages, to minimize the losses. Do you not understand this?”

“Fine. Stay your hands!” the leader of the terrorists commanded. “Miss Mo Lan is right. We have a lot of leverage. The Federal government is a democracy, right? Let’s see if they’ll release our comrades in exchange for these hostages. Take her cousin to the back. Miss Mo Lan, you can continue talking with your headquarters. Just understand that, from this moment on, I will execute ten hostages every five minutes until the remaining forty minutes are up. Then boom! We all go to heaven.”

“Ow! That hurts!” Tang Wulin exclaimed as one of the terrorists pushed him toward the fourth carriage. Before he left, he managed to sneak a wink at Mo Lan.

That brat! Can he really do something?Helplessness gripped Mo Lan, then she shook it off and gritted her teeth. Trading her life for those of the elderly, women, and children was all she could do to minimize the collateral damage. She understood just how vicious these terrorists were. She had no other options.

Tang Wulin let the terrorist drag him to the fourth carriage. Many more hostages huddled together in this carriage, too many to have all been from just one. As the terrorist pulled him along, he examined the carriage with his peripheral vision and added that information to what he already learned.

From what he had seen so far, only the leader of the terrorists was a soul master. He had the detonator for the bombs in his possession. The engine of the train was located in the first carriage, so it continued to glide along the tracks after the eleven carriages behind the fifth were detached. There was a terrorist armed with a soul cannon standing in the corner of that fifth carriage. Now, he needed to figure out how many more terrorists there were and how they were situated in the other carriages.

“Don’t touch anything in here, kid,” the terrorist dragging Tang Wulin barked. “Number Three! Watch this kid. He’s a VIP.”

There were three armed terrorist standing guard over more than two hundred hostages in the fourth carriage.The women, children, and elderly were released. The people here should be the majority of the remaining hostages.

“Alright, hand him over.” The terrorist kicked Tang Wulin in the shin, forcing him to fall to the ground with a yelp of pain. “You better behave yourself, brat.”

The kick hurt Tang Wulin, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. Yet instead of weathering the blow, he took the opportunity to get a better vantage point. He peeked through the gap between the terrorist’s legs into the third carriage.

He saw carnage. The floor had turned crimson, dyed with blood. There was nothing in the carriage other than death. Tang Wulin stared at the corpses strewn about,

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