chapter 7

Chapter 7

After leaving the Elephant Park, I saw the sightseeing mini train.

Hehe, I wanted to drive it.

I asked Shan Yuan, “Can I drive this train?”

He said, “Technically, yes, but you don’t have this currency.”

I said, “Then I’ll just not pay.”

Shan Yuan rubbed his forehead. “Well… no one’s checking right now.”

[Million-follower travel streamer caught fare-dodging.]

[Haha… haha… haha… got you now.]

I went straight to the driver’s seat and started the train.

But the train kept getting heavier and slower.

I had a bad feeling.

Shan Yuan said, “A lot of tourists have gotten on.”

I wiped the sweat from my brow. “How many is a lot?”

“All six carriages are full.”

“What?”

I didn’t dare look back at all.

It felt like a cold wind was blowing behind me-truly scary.

Shan Yuan said, “They’ve paid you. Take it.”

I looked down and saw a pile of Spirit Money next to the steering wheel.

They really were generous.

A big pile of Spirit Money-enough to burn for my great-grandmother three times.

Creepy.

Really creepy.

I said, “Can I refuse? I’m scared.”

“Here, refusing Spirit Money is illegal.”

“…”

So unfair, not open for discussion.

I had to take it all and put it in my bag.

Shan Yuan said slowly:

“They’re not bad people. But since you’ve taken their payment, you have to drive well.

“Don’t look at your phone while driving.

“Don’t hit the giraffes in the park.

“Remember, tourists are your customers, and the customer is God.”

I put my phone back in my pocket and slowly drove into the giraffe park.

The giraffes stretched their necks to eat grass.

It looked very peaceful, very nice.

Until a giant figure appeared before me.

A giraffe lying on its side.

Giraffes can fake injury for compensation?

The tourists behind me started to stir, “Don’t spoil that scamming giraffe! Just run it over.”

I didn’t listen.

I turned the wheel and went around it.

The tourists behind me got unhappy, “If we say run it over, you run it over! The customer is God!”

Suddenly, a smell of blood filled the carriage.

I broke down and cried, “Sorry, sorry, I really can’t do it. My little sister was killed in a car accident. She was so little, lying in a pool of blood-she must have been so hopeless… sob sob… It was all my fault, I didn’t watch her…”

Tourist: “…I really should die again.”

An old voice came from behind:

“Little girl, don’t cry, it’s not your fault, it’s them pushing you too hard.

“I deserve to die! I deserve to die! Here, I’ll take off my head for you to play with as a ball.”

Me: “…”

Oh no, I overdid it.

I really don’t want to play with someone else’s head.

I kept wiping my tears, “You’re so kind, there’s no need, I was also wrong for not meeting your request.”

After that, the tourists behind me became very easy to talk to.

Some even offered to detach an arm to help me drive.

Or a leg to step on the gas for me.

It was truly creepy.

I refused them one by one.

As I drove out of the giraffe park, the carriages felt lighter.

My phone buzzed in my pocket: “They’ve gotten off.”