Oh, you’re talking about that old East‑side tunnel, the one that used to carry the yellow freight trains before the whole line got rerouted? Yeah, that’s the one. They say it was built in the 1940s, right after the war, and a few guys were sent down there to dig out a storage cavern for the city’s wartime supplies. But because the war ended and the plans changed, the tunnel was abandoned, and nobody ever finished the vault. Now the locals whisper that the vault was never sealed—just a rusty iron door left open, and inside, supposedly, are stacks of gold bars, old war maps, and a whole bunch of weird artifacts that the city council tried to hide. Some say you can hear faint metallic clinks when the wind goes through the cracked bricks, like a secret choir of coins singing. Other folks swear they’ve seen flickering lights and ghostly figures in the corridor when the city’s lights are off. And here’s the kicker: every once in a while, a bunch of teenagers, or maybe a group of urban explorers, try to sneak in after midnight, and they end up finding nothing but broken tiles and a pile of old newspapers. But the stories keep growing—like, they say the vault’s door was forged from a special alloy that melts at night, so the rumors go that if you wait until midnight, you’ll see the door’s rust turning into silver. But honestly, most of this is just a mix of old train stories, some pranksters, and a lot of imagination. Still, if you’re into haunted tunnels and hidden treasure, you’ve got to see it for yourself, right?