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In the sleepy town of Wanganui, the morning sun cast a golden hue over the rumbling freight train as it passed under the old iron bridge. The train, marked with the number 9360, was a familiar sight, its rhythmic clatter a comforting reminder of the town's connection to the world beyond. A weathered sign, urging caution, stood as a silent guardian, watching over the tracks where stories of countless journeys began and ended. As the train disappeared into the distance, the town resumed its quiet hum, the promise of adventure lingering in the crisp morning air.