Chapter 50: Sea Without Light 50
“This is the washroom. We flush the toilets with domestic wastewater, and the crew’s excrements go directly into the sea,” Anton introduced one by one. “This is the kitchen. Behind the kitchen is the cold storage, where most of the food is canned. We load enough for half a year’s worth at one time; fresh vegetables and meats are hard to preserve, so there’s only a small supply. Look over there—that’s the entertainment room.”
He stopped in front of a door with a dartboard hanging on it and pushed the door open with a smile. “Look, a mahjong table! We can play card games or mahjong here, and billiards and table tennis are also options. Next to the entertainment room is the gym, where the crew can work out. Sailing on the sea is too boring; we need to find some interesting things to do, or else… people could go crazy.”
When Captain Anton said the last sentence, his bright smile somehow made Kui Xin feel it was extremely… distorted.
“The environment here is pretty good,” Lan Lan said. “The facilities are all quite new.”
“Because our Kraken is a newly built freighter, the largest freighter in the world by cargo capacity,” Anton said proudly. “To ensure transport capacity, the crew’s rooms are arranged in the rear half of the ship, on the first layer below the deck. The rest of the freighter can be used to hold cargo. The cargo at the bow and stern needs to be balanced; otherwise, the hull won’t be able to maintain stability.”
Kui Xin looked around and asked, “How many crew members are on board?”
“There are forty-three crew members,” Anton said. “But there aren’t this many on board right now. Didn’t I mention that many of our crew members experienced vomiting and diarrhea due to food issues? I had them disembark for treatment when we stopped at the last city, leaving only twenty-two people, and counting you five, there are a total of twenty-seven.”
“Is it that hard to treat vomiting and diarrhea?” Liu Kangyun asked in surprise. “Only twenty-two people on such a large ship—how can you manage that?”
“Quite easy to treat; just a couple of days with IV fluids will do. However, our freighter company is pushing us hard on deliveries. We rested for a day at the last port city; we dropped off the crew and replaced the problematic food before leaving,” Anton said, scratching his forehead helplessly. “Now every member we’ve got on board has doubled their workload; they have to take on jobs that don’t belong to them.”
Jiang Ming frowned. “Isn’t that a bit too much from the company?”
“Actually, it’s alright. As long as the work is distributed properly and the freighter operates smoothly, there won’t be a problem. Many of Kraken’s systems are semi-automated, and the onboard AI can assist us in handling most things… But then bad luck struck! The AI malfunctioned, a component in the computer bay short-circuited, and the person who can fix computers on the ship has already disembarked for gastrointestinal treatment!” Anton said. “Plus, there are occasional armed individuals emerging at sea to rob passing ships—we live in constant apprehension… Fortunately, you all have come!”
“Wow, you guys really are cursed, aren’t you?” Lan Lan said, dumbfounded. “I’m a technician; I should be able to fix the onboard AI. The Investigation Bureau’s team has a doctor accompanying it, just on the escort ship next to our freighter; you can contact them directly if needed.”
“We won’t need a doctor for now; no one on board is sick at the moment,” Anton said. “Let’s leave the AI repair for tomorrow—I’m sure you’re tired from flying in by helicopter, so have a rest tonight.”
Lan Lan insisted, “We’ll fix it tonight. The AI is critical, and repairing it sooner will allow Augus to take over navigation of the ship as soon as possible.”
Anton paused. “Alright, then I’ll trouble you with it.”
“Tonight, two people will take shifts on the deck while the rest rest. We’ll rotate,” Xueyao Shu said. “It’s just past three in the morning; we can switch shifts at six.”
Kui Xin thought for a moment and said, “I slept a bit on the plane; I’m not tired, and I’m in great condition, so let me handle the night shift.”
“Really? Wasn’t it just a while ago that you said you had low blood sugar?” Lan Lan asked skeptically.
“I’m not that fragile. I just felt a little dizzy for a moment; I’ve already taken the medicine I carry with me. It’s all fine now,” Kui Xin said. “You can trust me with the patrol; I’m not the type to overexert myself.”
Xueyao Shu examined Kui Xin seriously, confirming her condition, then said, “No, you can’t take the shift tonight. As the squad leader, I believe your condition isn’t sufficient to handle the duty. You can rest tonight and take the shift during the day.”
“…Fine.” Kui Xin felt like she had shot herself in the foot; had she known, she would have picked another excuse. Why did she have to say low blood sugar?
Honestly, sleeping on the Kraken made Kui Xin very uneasy. She didn’t have a problem with changing beds; it was purely because the atmosphere on the Kraken was too strange for her to sleep soundly.
“I’ll take the night shift,” Jiang Ming said. “I’m feeling good; I also slept a bit on the helicopter.”
“I’ll join the night shift as well. Later, I’ll go with the captain to check the computer room to fix the AI,” Lan Lan said.
Xueyao Shu replied, “Alright, let’s arrange it that way for tonight. If there are any issues, let Augus know. He will inform me and the teammates on the escort ship.”
With the task assigned, everyone went about their duties—those who needed to rest rested, those who were to patrol did so, and those who had work completed their tasks.
Jiang Ming stepped down the steps to patrol the deck while Lan Lan followed the captain to the computer room.
Lan Lan said, “I’ll check the situation in the computer room first. If it’s not too serious, I’ll try to fix it tonight. Lao Jiang, you head out to patrol first; I’ll update you on the situation.”
“Alright, I’ll head up first,” Jiang Ming nodded.
Kui Xin had a separate room for resting. Xueyao Shu and Liu Kangyun’s resting quarters were next to hers.
Space on the ship was limited; the rooms did not have separate washrooms, so to wash up, one had to go to the washroom in the hallway.
Kui Xin took off some of her heavy equipment, left the resting area, and entered the washroom, staring vacantly at herself in the mirror above the sink.
The echoing heartbeat was definitely not her imagination; however, looking at Xueyao Shu and the others, they didn’t seem to hear those sounds at all.
Why was she the only one who could hear them?
“Augus,” Kui Xin called softly.
“I’m here,” Augus replied in her earpiece. “Please give instructions.”
“When we boarded the ship, did you catch any strange noises?” Kui Xin asked. “For instance, sounds emitted by living beings—any beings besides us?”
“I did not,” Augus said. “Through the equipment on the Seventh Squad members, I picked up the sound of waves, rotor sounds, and human heartbeats, but no sounds from beings other than you. Perhaps you can describe your confusion in more detail?”
“No, it’s fine. I guess I just misheard,” Kui Xin said. “A little ear ringing from the helicopter ride.”
“You can alleviate ear ringing through acupressure,” Augus suggested.
Feeling frustrated, Kui Xin rubbed her temples and said, “Alright, thanks for the advice.”
Augus: “You’re welcome; serving you is my duty.”
Three minutes later, Kui Xin walked out of the washroom. The moment she pulled the door open, her expression froze.
Standing straight behind the door was a person—a tall man.
He was pressed against the washroom door, and Kui Xin almost bumped into his chest when opening it.
His black hair was tangled, looking as if it hadn’t been washed for a week. He carried a strong smell of sweat, wore a wrinkled yellow checkered shirt covered in stains, and his waxy skin and scruffy beard made him look ill. His eyes were sunken with dark circles, and his face had deep tear grooves, suggesting he hadn’t slept for days.
His overall appearance was so terrible it was hard to imagine; he could have seamlessly auditioned for a horror film.
“What are you doing? This is the women’s washroom,” Kui Xin took a step back, reflexively reaching for the gun at her waist. “Are you a crew member? State your name.”
“I’m a crew member, my name is Tang Guan,” the man forced a stiff smile and offered a poor excuse. “Sorry to scare you; I wanted to use the washroom and accidentally came to the wrong one…”
As Tang Guan said this, he stumbled slightly, as if about to faint. He almost collided with Kui Xin, causing her to dodge hastily and step out of the washroom.
Tang Guan steadied himself by gripping the doorframe, then turned to glance at Kui Xin before quickly hunching over and walking away, not heading for the nearby men’s washroom.
Was this person ill? Kui Xin stood still for a moment, then regained her senses and walked back to her room, but after taking two steps, she noticed something unusual in her pocket.
She looked down and found a crumpled piece of paper stuffed in her combat suit’s pocket, the handwriting was quite messy, clearly written in a hurry.
“Check the kitchen freezer.”
Kui Xin’s heart raced, and her instinct led her to glance towards the direction Tang Guan had disappeared.
This note was left by Tang Guan!
She frowned in thought.
Tang Guan meant no harm; if he harbored any intense malice towards her, her inherent talent for Absolute Prediction would undoubtedly have kicked in.
An eerie atmosphere silently spread, enveloping the massive freighter, Kraken, in an inexplicable veil of horror.
Kui Xin stood in the corridor, pondering for a moment, then quickly returned to her room. Expressionless, she checked her ammunition and loaded the magazine, saying, “Augus, alert the captain and Liu Kangyun. There’s something off about this ship—tell them to hold off on resting and come check things with me. Also, inform Lan Lan and Jiang Ming to stay vigilant; it would be best if they joined us in action.”
Augus replied, “Understood. I’ve informed your teammates.”
In less than thirty seconds, Xueyao Shu and Liu Kangyun almost simultaneously pushed the door open.
They instinctively asked, “What happened, Kui Xin?”
“Let’s patrol the ship; we need to check every cabin,” Kui Xin said. “I just received a strange note from a crew member, and I hope you all don’t think I’m overreacting…”
She showed them the note in her hand, expression serious. “This place feels wrong; we must conduct a thorough check.”
Xueyao Shu and Jiang Ming exchanged glances and nodded. “Alright.”
“Augus, notify the team on the escort ship to be on standby,” Xueyao Shu said. “Have them send an additional squad to board.”
“Yes,” Augus replied.
After a brief pause, Augus suddenly said, “Captain Shu, we’ve lost contact with Security Officer Lan Lan. I attempted to reach her three times but received no response. Three seconds ago, I couldn’t detect Security Officer Lan Lan’s heartbeat.”
…
“Is this it?” Lan Lan said in surprise. “Did a fire burn the computer room? Why is the damage so severe? I thought it was just minor damage based on your tone.”
“The computer room components caught fire and burned this place,” Anton explained. “The fire suppression system on the ship was activated, so the flames didn’t spread.”
“That’s troublesome,” Lan Lan squatted down and opened her toolbox. “I’ll first see if I can salvage some data boards; the navigation data recorded on them is crucial.”
Lan Lan manually unscrewed the soot-blackened computer case with a wrench. The helmet was hindering him, so he temporarily removed it.
The electrical system in the computer room was also damaged, and he turned on a flashlight for illumination.
He didn’t notice Anton had circled behind him, holding a crowbar.
With a cheerful grin, Anton lifted the crowbar and said, “Thank you for your hard work, sir.”
Then he raised the crowbar high and struck down suddenly.
“Bang!”
Blood splattered onto the computer room.
