A door on the second floor opened silently.
The amber light from the hallway spilled onto the crimson carpet. On a corner wall, a damaged surveillance camera—its lens cracked into a spiderweb pattern—continued to stare down the hallway.
Yet, it was strange, exceedingly strange. This narrow corridor led toward the spiraling central staircase at the front and faced the closed captain’s cabin at the back. Within this long passage, it was completely empty and dead quiet—there wasn’t a single soul in sight!
Where had everyone gone?
Where was Mr. Liu? What about those bodyguards?
From behind the open door, a dark shadow stepped out…
“I think right now, there is only one most important thing to do: contact the police.”
Having reached a reluctant agreement, Ji Xun cleared the chaotic thoughts from his mind and spoke to the other two. He then turned his eyes toward Huo Ranyin. When Ji Xun and Meng Fushan had acted earlier, they hadn’t factored the police into their plans because the conditions to report or establish contact were lacking. But times had changed. Now, three people had died in succession on the ship, the vessel had lost power, and with Huo Ranyin—a police team captain—present, as long as they could successfully contact the police, the force would have more than enough reason to come aboard, search, and seize control. Everything would become much easier.
“Did you bring any back-up measures before boarding the ship? Like a tracker or something?”
“I did,” Huo Ranyin said. “Stuck to the bottom of the boarding gangway.”
“Good thinking,” Ji Xun evaluated.
“But there’s no signal on this entire ship,” Meng Fushan interjected.
“Correct. But that’s a problem that can be solved simply by shifting our perspective. Signal jamming has its limitations; it jams the ship, so we just need to leave the ship—”
Ji Xun stood up and pushed open the window.
A jagged streak of bright silver lightning ripped across the pitch-black sky like a swimming dragon, illuminating the world and lighting up the torrential rain that wove a dense curtain between heaven and earth.
Only after the lightning that slashed through the dark clouds ducked back into the sky did rolling thunder crash in, entering their ears alongside Ji Xun’s words:
“Under the cover of night, jump off the ship and swim outward—swim to a spot beyond the signal jamming zone. Use a phone and the location tracker to inform the police of what happened here and our coordinates.”
Ji Xun’s proposal was undoubtedly an out-of-the-box way to break the deadlock—simple and direct. The other two only pondered it briefly before agreeing.
However, things rarely go completely smoothly.
When the three of them left the room and cautiously made their way to the main exit leading to the deck, they discovered several white umbrellas appearing on the deck, where thin puddles of water had already gathered in the heavy rain.
Beneath the white umbrellas stood several dark figures.
They were bodyguards dressed in suits and armed to the teeth, surrounding Mr. Liu in the middle!
Without a doubt, while Ji Xun and the others were thinking of this solution, Mr. Liu—who had driven all the obstructive people into their rooms—had arrived at the exact same answer.
Not only that, but just like Ji Xun and the others, during this period of raging wind, violent rain, and tumbling sea waves, he was so impatient that he wanted to send people out to contact the outside world immediately!
Ji Xun poked his head out just a tiny bit, then quickly pulled it back. He gestured to the other two, first holding up eight fingers, then one.
Eight bodyguards, plus Mr. Liu.
Nine people in total. That meant every single person free to move around outside was right here.
Without needing further communication, they instantly knew what to do next. The trio left the area, went straight upstairs, found a suitable spot, peeled back a corner of the curtain, and turned on the phone taken from Ah Tang, aiming the camera downward to monitor the situation.
Rain poured down relentlessly, and a faint white fog rose over the churning sea.
Through the phone screen, Ji Xun and the other two saw several bodyguards place a large table upside down on the deck. They wrapped it layer upon layer with a waterproof tarp, then bound it securely with ropes—thus crafting a simple makeshift lifeboat.
Several bodyguards lifted the lifeboat and tossed it directly toward the sea. Under normal circumstances, they could have used the ship’s gangway, but with various equipment on the ship completely ruined, the gangway was no longer operable.
The camera on the phone couldn’t capture the sea surface below the deck entirely.
Listening to the booming thunderstorm and watching the white-capped waves surging high on the pitch-black sea, the three guessed how the dropped “boat” was faring… It didn’t look promising… because the wind and waves were simply too fierce. Mr. Liu’s bodyguards seemed to be arguing among themselves; no one moved immediately, perhaps requesting that Mr. Liu wait until the storm blew over before taking action.
After all, heavy rain, fierce winds, and rough waves—no matter how terrifying in the moment—would eventually pass.
The expectations of Ji Xun and his group miraculously aligned with those of the bodyguards below.
Unfortunately, Mr. Liu’s expectations were the exact opposite of theirs.
Surrounded by the crowd, Mr. Liu said something that couldn’t be heard upstairs, but it was surely some form of incentive or reward. Right after Mr. Liu finished speaking, one of the eight bodyguards suddenly stepped forward.
He put on a life jacket, tied a rope around himself, and then the remaining bodyguards held onto the rope, lowering him down bit by bit.
The man vanished from the sight of Ji Xun and the others little by little.
They had no choice but to start thinking: if Mr. Liu’s man successfully used the lifeboat to escape the signal jamming range, how should they deal with what comes next… Perhaps once this night passed, they would have to face Mr. Liu’s endless reinforcements.
Of course, they could also follow Mr. Liu’s example. Once the bodyguard who went down returned, they could likewise swim out to notify the police.
However, what if Mr. Liu and his bodyguards were cautious enough that, even after successfully calling for rescue, they stayed on deck in the rain to patrol back and forth, eliminating any last potential danger?
Besides, even if these people went upstairs, and even though the wind was howling and the rain was pouring, it was only nearly eight in the evening. The sky wasn’t dark enough to render everything invisible. If they risked going down, Mr. Liu’s men, as well as the people locked in their rooms, might spot them.
Once spotted, their situation would become extremely dire.
Ten nerve-wracking minutes passed. The bodyguard who had gone down reappeared on the deck. Not only did Mr. Liu and his men want to know the outcome, but Ji Xun and his group were also desperate for an answer.
Everything was faithfully captured by the phone’s camera lens.
Returning from the sea, dripping wet from head to toe, the bodyguard shook his head at everyone.
He failed?
The subsequent events confirmed this answer. Mr. Liu sent two more men down one after another, but judging from their various reactions after coming back up, they had failed as well.
The wind was too strong and the waves were too high; relying on a “lifeboat” hastily cobbled together from a table, these men simply couldn’t make it out of the signal jamming range.
This was good news, but at the same time, it was bad news.
It meant that while Mr. Liu couldn’t contact the outside world, it would be just as hard for them to do so…
The people below didn’t seem inclined to stay on the wind-swept, rain-drenched deck any longer; they began walking inward toward the cabin.
Before they could be bumped into, Ji Xun and the other two retreated ahead of time to an empty room on the third floor.
“Now…” Ji Xun started, “Wait a bit longer?”
“We can wait for the rain to stop,” Huo Ranyin said. “But it’s obvious that Mr. Liu is also anxious to contact the outside world. Once the rain stops, they’ll inevitably try again. We won’t be able to contact the outside world before them.”
“Do we really have to do it that way?” Meng Fushan blurted out out of nowhere.
Both of them turned to look at Meng Fushan together.
“There are three of us, and only eight of them,” Meng Fushan said meaningfully.
“Not ‘only’, it’s a full eight.”
“Three of those eight just came back from the sea and are shivering from the cold, and they still have to protect a dead weight.”
“They also have eight guns.”
“We have the entire space of the ship to divide, flank, and ambush them.”
“They have that too.”
“Let’s do it,” Huo Ranyin cut through their debate in one neat, decisive sentence.
Ji Xun slowly closed his mouth, holding back his counterargument.
He began to ponder Meng Fushan’s plan, and the more he thought about it, the more he felt that a three-versus-eight fight wasn’t actually that risky after all. How about…
Doing it?
