With newfound urgency, he set out to scavenge for supplies. Every rustling leaf, every distant groan, sent shivers down his spine, but Rishang's focus was unwavering. He needed to survive, not just for himself, but to find any remaining family, any sliver of hope in this desolate world.
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Fueled by the desperate echo of his nightmare, he searched for essential tools like food, water, and weapons. Each step carried the weight of his newfound purpose: to endure, no matter the horrors that lurked in the shadows. However, the vivid memory of his dream shifted as he woke fully alert for the first time in days. A curious sensation filled the air, not the promised smell of intelligence, but a faint aroma of ramen. He chuckled, dismissing the phantom scent as his nose playing tricks. "The air smells like ramen," he muttered, "but where's the intelligence?" Then, a sudden realization struck him: "It's me! The only source of intelligence in this forsaken place!"
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This realization, coupled with the distant rumble, sent a jolt of excitement through him. He followed the sound, not to an intelligence, but to a sight that filled him with unexpected hope: a moving train, rolling down a lonely railroad.
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He scanned his surroundings, trying to pinpoint the approaching train's origin. He bent down, feeling a subtle tremor in the ground, stronger on his left side. The evidence was inconclusive. "Never mind," he muttered, "I'll use my own method." He whipped off his hat and flung it skyward. As it descended, he gracefully followed its arc, his body pivoting towards its leftward landing spot.
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With newfound direction, he sprinted towards the anticipated track, hoping to catch the train before it vanished. His intuition proved correct. A door on the last carriage hung open, offering a gateway to salvation. He leaped aboard, a wave of warm air and the faint aroma of coffee washing over him. Inside, rows of neat seats housed an assortment of passengers: some engrossed in books, others lost in the melody of music, and a few engaged in cheerful conversation. Their clothes were clean, and their complexions glowed with health, a stark contrast to his own weary demeanor. They seemed like inhabitants of a different world, untouched by the hardships he had endured.
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He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see a young woman smiling at him. She had long brown hair and green eyes. She wore a leather jacket and jeans.
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