On the wasteland railway track, a train is being targeted by snipers. Three minutes ago, Xuan Lan was just a passenger waiting to die at platform zero - the water here cost a human life, and bullets were cheaper than bread. But no one knows that his brain can release a strange "mental pollution" that drags all living creatures into the illusion of unilateral crushing within a 20-meter radius. When the gang boss put the muzzle of the gun against his forehead and asked him to kneel down with a sinister smile, Xuan Lan lightly snapped his fingers. The next second, the boss was kowtowing crazily into the air, while Xuan Lan had already picked up his gun and pointed it at the dozens of stunned people in the carriage. "Don't move." He blew the ash from the gun. "From now on, this car is under my control. If you resist, I will let you see your mother climb out of the coffin."
