The train was wrapped in a cold silence, the kind that made every breath feel like frost biting at your lungs. Somewhere in the next boxcar, a woman's broken sobs cut through the hush—a mother mourning, a child lost. A kind-hearted passenger rose to comfort her, whispering words that sounded hollow in this steel tomb racing across endless snow.
Lucas sat quietly in his seat, eyes fixed on the frosted window, his reflection ghostly in the dim light. He had already guessed what had happened on the platform earlier, but now, seeing the mother's despair, he finally confirmed his fear.
> "So… the consequence of violating the Instructions for Passengers is death."
The thought sent a chill crawling up his spine that had nothing to do with the subzero cold outside.
He recalled the three unclear commandments printed on the Traveler's Guide. Their vague words now dripped with threat.
Lucas rubbed the blade of the small kitchen knife resting across his knees, his reflection distorted along its edge.
> "You'll die if you don't pay attention…"
Even whispering it felt like calling on a curse.
No one dared to get off the train again. The last stop had proven enough.
Outside, the storm screamed across the white wasteland. The Snowpiercer halted at the Fairy Tale Town platform, where it would remain for an entire hour. No one was in a hurry to board—at least, not anyone human.
Then, through the falling snow, a small figure approached.
A little girl, no more than eight, barefoot and trembling, clutching a bamboo basket half-filled with red apples. Her clothes were ragged and thin, her hair caked with ice. She stood before the train door and looked up at the attendant with tearful eyes.
"Excuse me… can I come in to sell these?" she asked softly. "My mother won't let me come home until I sell everything."
The attendant hesitated. The sight of her tiny blue feet standing on the icy platform stirred a rare flicker of pity.
"Oh, you poor thing," she sighed. "Alright, you can come aboard. But remember, don't disturb the passengers."
The little girl's eyes brightened instantly. "Thank you! You're such a good person!"
She stepped onto the train with careful, almost reverent steps, as if afraid the warmth might vanish beneath her. The passengers watched in uneasy silence as she began walking down the aisle, whispering shyly:
"Sir, ma'am… would you like to buy some apples? They're big and sweet—I picked them myself."
Her voice was small, almost musical, echoing faintly through the cold cars.
When she reached Car No. 9—the one where Lucas sat—the system inside his mind stirred.
> [Modeling in progress…]
[Generating risk assessment based on host's strength…]
[The Little Match Girl of Fairy Tale Town: Intermediate Danger]
Lucas frowned. "An intermediate danger? She's just a little girl selling apples…"
Yet experience told him otherwise. Nothing on this cursed train was ever what it seemed.
In the compartment next to him sat Niya, a widow still numb from her husband's death, and her delicate daughter, Hathaway. When the little apple seller appeared at their door, Niya forced a gentle smile despite her swollen eyes.
"How much for one, sweetheart?" she asked kindly.
The girl sniffed, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand. "Just a copper coin, pretty lady!"
Niya hesitated only a second before pressing the coin into her tiny, frozen palm.
The girl's face lit up. "Thank you, kind lady! Here, take this one—it's the sweetest!"
Niya turned to her daughter. "Hathaway, here, an apple."
Lucas heard the sliding door open. He glanced over just in time to see Hathaway bite into the fruit.
> [Modeling...]
[Generating risk assessment based on host's strength...]
[Apple: Intermediate danger]
The girl's pale lips curled into a smile. "Is it sweet?" she asked.
Hathaway nodded innocently, chewing. "Very sweet."
The little match girl clasped her hands in delight. "I told you! My apples are the sweetest!"
Niya laughed softly through her grief. For a moment, the air in the carriage almost felt human again.
Then, Hathaway's body convulsed.
Her tiny fingers spasmed, the apple slipped from her hand and rolled across the floor. Her eyes widened, her mouth hung open in a silent scream. Her skin turned gray in seconds, her body shriveling like a withered flower.
The bitten apple came to rest by Lucas's boot.
> [A bitten apple: No danger]
"Hathaway!" Niya screamed. She fell to her knees, shaking her daughter desperately. "Wake up! Please—wake up!"
But Hathaway's eyes had already glazed over.
> [Passenger Hathaway's body: No danger]
The little girl stood there, clapping her hands gleefully. "So good! So good!" she chirped.
As Lucas watched, the frostbite on her cheeks faded, her pale skin turning rosy and warm.
> "She's absorbing their life force…"
Lucas's grip tightened around the knife. The blade glinted under the pale lights as his pulse quickened.
> [Risk increasing...]
[The Little Match Girl in Fairy Tale Town: Danger level rising beyond intermediate.]
"She feeds on warmth… through the apples," he muttered, rising slightly in his seat.
Passengers peeked through their compartment doors, eyes wide with terror as the reality set in. A few pointed trembling fingers toward the girl.
Niya cradled her daughter's limp body, her grief twisting into fury. Her voice cracked through the car.
> "You're a demon!"
The little girl only tilted her head, confusion flickering across her features. Then, with eerie calm, she turned to the other passengers and began again, her tone bright and cheerful.
"Big, sweet apples! Who wants to buy one? They'll make you feel warm and happy!"
One by one, doors slammed shut all along the car. No one dared to move.
The girl's face fell for a moment, disappointment flickering in her wide blue eyes. But then, just as quickly, she smiled again. "That's okay," she whispered to herself. "Someone will want them. Someone always does."
> Ding!
A metallic chime echoed in Lucas's mind.
> [System prompt: Player Lucas has triggered a side mission]
[Side Mission: Help the little girl sell all the apples before she freezes to death in the snow.]
[Reward: Unknown]
Lucas stared at the glowing text in disbelief. "A side mission…? Seriously?" he muttered. "And this time, they actually spelled out the goal clearly. Guess they were worried some players might exploit it."
His voice echoed through the broadcast channel, audible to players in every copy of the simulation.
The comment section exploded instantly.
> "Don't pretend you're innocent, Lucas! We know who breaks every rule to farm points!"
"Is it the players who are cursed—or the system itself?"
"If he really helps her sell the apples, she'll kill everyone on board!"
"The mission says 'sell'—not 'feed.' How's he supposed to do that when everyone knows they're deadly?"
The debate went on, unseen and unheard by those inside the train. Only the wind howled past the windows like a chorus of the damned.
Inside the car, Niya's grief finally shattered her reason. With a cry of pure anguish, she lunged at the little girl. "I'll kill you! You monster!"
But the child's strength was inhuman. She raised one small hand, and Niya was thrown backward as if struck by an invisible hammer. Her body hit the wall with such force that the steel dented inward.
> The impact left a perfect, human-shaped imprint in the wall.
The passengers gasped. Lucas's heart pounded. The girl's face darkened, her features twisting, veins crawling across her cheeks like black vines.
"You hit me," she hissed, voice trembling with rage. "You actually hit me! My mother never dared to hit me!"
Niya's courage crumbled. She scrambled backward until her shoulders pressed against the cold metal wall, nowhere left to go. The little girl's steps echoed as she approached, each one deliberate, her bare feet leaving faint prints of frost on the floor.
She raised both hands high, fingers curling like claws.
> "Wait—" Lucas's voice cut through the tension.
Every head turned.
He stepped out from his boxcar, his knife glinting faintly beneath the flickering overhead lights. His eyes locked on the child's, calm but deadly.
The girl froze, her face twitching between fury and confusion.
For a heartbeat, everything was still—the crying, the wind, even the sound of the train's engine seemed to stop.
Then came the distant sound of the whistle. The train would depart soon, carrying its cursed cargo deeper into the snowstorm.
Lucas exhaled slowly, his breath fogging in the air. "If the mission is to help her sell the apples," he said quietly, "then maybe there's a way to do it… without anyone else dying."
The girl blinked at him, uncertain. Her voice softened, trembling slightly. "You'll help me?"
Lucas didn't answer. He only tightened his grip on the knife, watching her every move.
> Because on this train, mercy could kill just as surely as a blade.
Outside, snowflakes whirled like ashes in a frozen storm.
Inside, warmth and death shared the same face—that of a little girl offering an apple.
> Ho ho ho… and there should be more later. If nothing goes wrong.
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