1931 The Grand Punk Railroad: Local by Ryohgo Narita

train built by a fortunate corporation that had been lucky enough to come through the Depression—could well be called a curiosity.
    Its basic build mimicked that of England’s Royal Train. All first-class compartment interiors were embellished with marble and similar materials, and the second-class compartments were built in a corresponding fashion.
    On a regular train, each carriage would have been divided into first-, second-, and third-class compartments. Ordinarily, the areas over the wheels, where vibrations were the fiercest, were kept for third-class passengers. However, on this train, the cars themselves were first, second, or third class: After the engine came three first-class carriages, then a single dining car, then three second-class carriages, one third-class carriage, three freight cars, and a car with a spare freight room and the conductors’ room. This was the internal breakdown of the train. Except for the dining car, all cars had a corridor on the left, according to the direction of travel, and it was possible to check the numbers on the door of each passenger compartment before entering. There was no freight car on this train; instead, there were three cars with spacious freight rooms. As usual, the corridors were on the left.
    It was an ostentatious nouveau riche train, one that prioritized design at the expense of functionality. The third-class compartments, which had been built in a perfunctory manner, actually seemed pathetic, and the flattened, sculpture-like ornamentation on the exteriors of each carriage made this even more striking.
    The train’s greatest distinguishing characteristic was that it was independent from the usual railway corporations’ operation. It was run by borrowing the rails from the railway companies and could truly be called a present-day royal train.
    Then came December 30, 1931. On this luxurious train, a tragedy unfolded.

    Several hours had passed since the train’s departure, and the surroundings were already wrapped in darkness.
    “How are you doing, newbie?”
    With his back to the landscape outside the window, the middle-aged conductor spoke.
    “Oh… Mm. I’m okay.”
    Giving a slightly delayed response, the young conductor looked up.
    Although they’d entered the middle stage of a long journey, it was the first time his more experienced colleague had spoken to him. Thinking this was odd, the young conductor examined the man’s face.
    Come to think of it, this was the first time he’d taken a good look at his face, period.
    The young conductor was a bit appalled by his own lack of interest. The face reflected in his eyes wore a smile that seemed somehow mechanical. It was as though the man was forcing himself to smile; it deeply warped the thin lines that had begun to be etched into his face.
    “I see… That’s good to hear. Sometimes, if you spend too long watching the receding landscape we see from here, it plants a terrible loneliness and fear in you.”
    “Oh, yeah, I know what you mean.”
    “All sorts of terrors lurk in this unease. In the dark or inside tunnels, it’s even worse.”
    “That’s right! You’re totally right! The other conductors tell scary stories quite a lot, and man, it’s gotten so I’m afraid to be alone at night!”
    The young man had latched on to the elder’s subject, and he began blabbing away about things he hadn’t been asked to discuss.
    “I tell ya, the other conductors are seriously mean. I keep telling them I’m no good with stories like that, but they say things about bee-men with talons, or how they keep hearing bells from empty passenger compartments…”
    For someone who was supposed to be “no good” with such things, his eyes shone very brightly as he spoke. His true colors—his desire to see scary things—showed vividly in his expression.
    “And then, let’s see… Stories about the Rail Tracer, and stuff.”
    “Hmm?”
    The older conductor had been traveling all around the country for a long