### Chapter 52: Sea Without Light 52
“Boom—boom—boom!”
The tightly closed deck door above the stairs kept emitting loud noises, but it just wouldn’t budge—no matter what!
The Kraken was designed with various factors in mind to prevent high-tech devices from breaching the ship’s electronic systems. Some doors employed old-fashioned mechanical structures that required vintage keys to unlock, and were constructed from particularly thick, high-strength alloys. Forcing them open was nothing short of a pipe dream.
While waiting for the deck door to break open, they managed to find a few fire extinguishers in various rooms. However, despair washed over them when they discovered that the extinguishers were filled with dry ice. Using such extinguishers in a closed space carried a high risk of carbon dioxide poisoning.
Aside from the dry ice extinguishers, they had no other firefighting equipment; the water gates were shut, the firefighting systems were down, and the deck door was barricaded. They had reached a dead end.
Time ticked by, and Kui Xin, Xueyao Shu, and Liu Kangyun retreated further, pressing their bodies against the ground to avoid inhaling the thick smoke rising from above. Even so, their situation was becoming increasingly dire.
The exposed skin on their bodies was reddened by the flames, and any accidental touch with the metal walls would cause painful burns. The heat enveloped every corner of the corridor; they felt like roasted pigs in a furnace.
Kui Xin wiped the sweat from her brow, dampening her hair, while the thick smoke blackened her face.
“Boom!”
Another loud bang resonated through the air.
This time, the sound didn’t come from the deck door but from behind them!
In mere seconds after the explosion, Kui Xin sensed the ship’s hull vibrating, shifting dangerously.
The three covered their mouths and noses, looking back in horror. They discovered a wave of fire rushing toward them from the corridor behind, trapping them in a pincer movement.
Worse yet, the flames from behind were more ferocious than those in front, seemingly erupting like a volcano from within the corridor.
“It’s over…” Liu Kangyun muttered numbly.
The path ahead was blocked, and the way back was obstructed as well. The damp bath curtain draped over them was nearly dried out by the flames; if the fire reached their bodies, they would burn alive. The oil on their clothes clung tightly, igniting at the slightest spark.
Xueyao Shu and Liu Kangyun were forced into an employee dormitory, temporarily closing the door to evade the drifting sparks.
Just after they entered the room, an ear-splitting explosion echoed again, louder and more violent than the previous ones!
The sound seemed to come from far away, fading into an echo by the time it reached the corridor.
After the explosion, the ship tilted again, this time at a more alarming angle. The furnishings within the crew quarters slid and crashed, and the clatter of falling objects rang out incessantly. The three held onto the nearby walls to steady themselves.
“This ship is going to sink!” Kui Xin stammered.
“Augus.” Xueyao Shu said anxiously, “Report the situation in real time.”
Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, a result of both the heat and the dire circumstances.
“Captain, the Kraken’s power chamber has been detonated,” Augus reported after a moment. “The hull is slightly tilted, and escort ships are distancing themselves to avoid the explosion’s shockwave. Armed helicopters cannot approach due to the generated airflow and debris from the explosion. Continuous explosions are expected, and the Kraken will sink.”
Augus’s voice remained as rational as always, devoid of any fluctuation. In the most tense situations, humans might lose their rationality, but machines did not.
Xueyao Shu tightened his lips. “What about the comrades outside?”
“They are desperately trying to rescue you. Eight security officers are attempting to break down the door,” Augus said. “The armed helicopters are trying to get closer to the Kraken. However, in this situation, the helicopters will prioritize retrieving the security officers on deck. If they haven’t broken down the door by the time the helicopters arrive, they will have to make choices.”
“So we are to be abandoned, right?” Liu Kangyun’s voice was hoarse. “A glorious sacrifice?”
“Apologies, but this is a necessary decision. The Investigation Bureau cannot abandon the majority for a few individuals,” Augus said. “Captain, I suggest you and your team record your last words. Security officer Kui Xin has yet to write a will; it is advisable to draft one. You may begin speaking, and I will save the recordings for you.”
Kui Xin: “???”
“Are we really beginning the process?” she maintained her composure, emphasizing her tone. “I won’t!”
Even if everyone on the ship perished, she would not. Her life could start again; that was her reason for risking exposure to seize the “Death Rebirth” ability.
In this game world, being able to revert to a saved point increased her chances of success, providing opportunities for mistakes.
“I won’t speak either; I’m still young!” Liu Kangyun exhaled, as if trying to expel bad luck. He removed his helmet, his black hair dampened with sweat, sticking to his scalp.
Xueyao Shu fell silent; he turned and quietly said, “Augus, if I die, leave all my personal belongings to my mother… and tell her I support her divorce. I wish for her to be healthy and happy forever… that’s all I wanted to say.”
“Yes, recorded,” Augus acknowledged. “Your message holds legal validity; please rest assured.”
In this life-and-death moment, only Xueyao Shu had spoken his last words.
Kui Xin suddenly had a thought… It appeared Xueyao Shu was actually a pessimist.
His polite, gentle persona had lingered in Kui Xin’s mind for so long that she developed a stereotype, believing him to be the kind, considerate, steady superior, overlooking the universal truth that “humanity has many facets.”
She hadn’t seen the full picture and hadn’t understood the complexities of human nature.
Kui Xin engaged in a small moment of self-reflection.
Once Xueyao Shu finished his last words, he turned back to Kui Xin and Liu Kangyun, saying, “I’m sorry; please don’t let me affect you. My family situation is complicated; there are too many things to consider and ties that bind me, so I must leave something behind… Our lives are not yet over; there’s always a turning point. I apologize for being an inadequate captain.”
He apologized twice, once for “I’m sorry” and another time for “apologies.”
“No, you are a very competent captain,” Kui Xin replied, looking at Xueyao Shu. “I’m very glad that you are my captain in the Investigation Bureau, not someone else. If it were another superior, I might not be able to adapt.”
She spoke the truth.
In the Second World, Xueyao Shu was a very likable NPC; he served as Kui Xin’s guide in the new world.
Xueyao Shu mistakenly took Kui Xin’s words as trust and praise from a comrade; he said, “Thank you, Kui Xin.”
“We have worked together for two years now, Captain. You are the person I trust the most and a good comrade to whom I can entrust my back. This is not your fault,” Liu Kangyun forced a painful smile. “I hope to continue fighting alongside you in the future.”
All they could do now was wait; the phrase “time drags on like years” aptly described their current emotions.
In the waiting, explosions occasionally shook the ship. The metal plates vibrated, and the corridor reflected the glow of the flames. Oxygen gradually depleted, everything indicated the coming of an end.
Kui Xin’s heart grew serene as she waited. The reason she hadn’t used Shadow Transition to escape was that the area outside was filled with security officers from the Investigation Bureau. If she dashed out, she would be caught, and the officers would discover her extraordinary abilities conflicting with Augus’s records.
No one could possess more than one extraordinary ability; she would be treated as a little white mouse and a suspect.
Moreover, even if she managed to escape, she still had to board the Investigation Bureau’s helicopter and depart by ship. She lacked the ability to swim hundreds of kilometers in the ocean.
“Please pay attention, the door will open soon,” Augus’s mechanical voice sounded. “Once the deck door opens, the sudden influx of air will cause the flames in the corridor to flare up. Please hold your breath and use the dry ice extinguishers to return to the deck within fifteen seconds. The freighter has tilted thirty degrees and is at risk of capsizing at any moment.”
Liu Kangyun’s eyes lit up, a glimmer of hope shining through. “There’s a way out!”
He grabbed the dry ice extinguisher, adjusted his nearly dried bath curtain, and secured it in place, then fastened his helmet.
“Fifteen seconds,” Xueyao Shu also picked up a dry ice extinguisher.
Kui Xin strapped her firearm on her waist and removed the dry ice extinguisher’s safety pin.
The three of them was poised to spring into action. In just a breath’s time, a loud bang echoed from the direction of the deck, and the flames erupted, fueled by the inflow of oxygen and airflow.
Without hesitation, Kui Xin took her last breath, held it, kicked the door open, and pressed the dry ice extinguisher’s switch as she charged forward.
Her foot touched the scalding floor, and she felt a slight stickiness as the adhesive on the soles of her shoes melted in the high temperature, burning her skin. The hot air curled the strands of hair that protruded outward.
Xueyao Shu and Liu Kangyun were beside her, and the three worked together with the extinguishers to carve out a path, rushing through the corridor toward the deck exit at maximum speed.
Kui Xin was the first to arrive. She took two steps at a time up the stairs and saw a group of individuals in black uniforms surrounding the exit; they were teammates from the Investigation Bureau.
She heard Jiang Ming’s voice along with many unfamiliar voices.
“Hurry, hurry! People are coming! Grab the fire extinguisher!” someone yelled.
Several hands frantically reached out to support Kui Xin, pulling her up, and a cloud of dry chemical extinguishing powder sprayed over her, dousing the smoldering bath curtain.
The second to come up was Liu Kangyun, whose burns were far more severe than Kui Xin’s. The oil clung to his clothes, making it hard to avoid further flames, even while wielding a dry ice extinguisher.
The security officers routinely pulled Liu Kangyun up, spraying him with the extinguisher as well. His face, arms, and calves were singed, with gruesome wounds and blood flowing profusely.
Xueyao Shu was the last to step onto the stairs. Just as he was about to climb up, the staircase, weakened by the numerous explosions and fires, suddenly snapped.
The staircase was several meters high, a spiral steel structure, not as sturdy as the deck door, swaying precariously. Unfortunately, it broke just as Xueyao Shu stepped onto it; below was the surging inferno, flames leaping high enough to singe his legs.
Xueyao Shu acted swiftly, instinctively grabbing the steel handrail of the staircase. The gloves provided by the Investigation Bureau had exposed fingers, allowing security officers to maintain grip on their knives and firearms. When Xueyao Shu’s fingers touched the hot steel, they sizzled, and white smoke rose.
The steel pipe was unbearably hot from prolonged exposure, hot enough to sear flesh into char.
Xueyao Shu’s face turned pale as the pipe he grasped began to bend downward.
“Creak—”
The joint of the steel pipe broke!
In the moment he was about to fall, another hand clad in a black glove suddenly reached out, gripping the broken steel pipe.
More sizzling sounds followed; burnt flesh sent up white smoke, and Kui Xin held onto the steel pipe that Xueyao Shu was gripping.
With both ends of the nearly heated pipe held by their hands, Kui Xin and Xueyao Shu were connected. One end represented a companion, the other life itself; holding onto the pipe felt like grasping tightly onto the hope for survival.
“Captain, the other hand!” Kui Xin gritted her teeth and lifted the steel pipe, grabbing Xueyao Shu’s free hand while numerous security officers worked together to hoist him up, spraying him with extinguishers to cool down his burnt clothes.
However, Xueyao Shu’s hand trembled, both their hands stuck to the steel pipe.
How much perseverance must one possess to endure pain and cling to the red-hot steel pipe in critical moments?
Long pain is worse than short pain; Kui Xin felt her face contort in agony as she broke free, tearing her hand away from the steel pipe. A layer of skin remained attached to it, and blood dripping onto the steel resembled boiling water, still bubbling.
“Thank you, Kui Xin,” Xueyao Shu also bore the pain as he tore his hand from the steel pipe.
Kui Xin replied with forced composure, “No need to thank me.”
Kui Xin’s hand began to heal rapidly, but Xueyao Shu lacked such extraordinary abilities. Liu Kangyun frantically fumbled to pull out a healing potion from his belongings, injecting it into himself, but it would take several hours for the potion to close his wounds.
“The hull has tilted thirty-five degrees,” Augus reported, his speed picking up. “All security personnel, evacuate immediately! Repeat, all security personnel, evacuate immediately!”
Three helicopters hovered overhead, trying to lower their flying altitude. Lengthy ropes were thrown down from the open doors.
But shortly after Augus finished his announcement, another explosion erupted in the midsection of the freighter. With the boom of the explosion, the hull noticeably sank.
The compartment was flooding; this ship would soon lose buoyancy and sink completely.
However, the noise of the explosion was deafening; everyone had to lie flat on the deck to escape the tidal wave generated by the blast. The armed helicopters were once again pushed away from the freighter by the shock of the explosion.
A piece of debris from the explosion happened to strike one of the helicopters hovering above, shattering its rotor blades. The helicopter plummeted, engulfed in thick smoke as it fell headlong into the ocean.
“The apocalypse can’t be much worse than this…” someone muttered.
The blinding flames burned everyone’s eyes, and they tried to maintain their balance on the tilting ship, but aside from that, there was nothing they could do.
“Where are the escape pods and inflatable boats?” Kui Xin gripped the arm of a colleague beside her.
The person responded with a bitter smile, “They’re destroyed, completely leaking… Since we boarded this ship, no one has intended for us to leave.”
“Then let’s use the life rings! Aren’t there many hanging on the railings? We can jump into the sea!” Kui Xin exclaimed, moving to grab a life ring, only to be pulled back by Jiang Ming.
Jiang Ming’s eyes were filled with a complex mix of fear and confusion; his face was as pale as a ghost.
This was the first time Kui Xin had seen such an expression on Jiang Ming’s face.
She instinctively looked where Jiang Ming was pointing… In the pitch-black sea, it seemed empty, but when the helicopter’s spotlight swept over the surface, a multitude of creatures with feline-like pupils flickered into view, densely packed together.
The water was filled with xenomorphs!
They floated like jellyfish in the sea, some having eight eyes, others waving tentacles. They varied in shape and type, clustering together like devout worshipers, swarms surrounding the queen bee, closely guarding the Kraken.
“I’ve never seen so many xenomorphs; they must be coming for this ship…” Jiang Ming whispered. “It must be that way… but why?”
Why the Kraken?
All the security officers shared this question: what had happened on the Kraken? The moment they boarded the ship, an explosion went off, nearly all crew members had vanished, and now the ship was sinking, trapping them aboard with no rescue in sight, unable to escape into the sea.
“…Is it true that the Kraken was transporting combustible ice?” Kui Xin voiced her thought.
All the security officers fell silent, staring at her, each one pondering the same question in their hearts.
At the same time, they realized they seemed to have been completely kept in the dark by the Investigation Bureau. The Bureau hadn’t disclosed the true information regarding the cargo on the Kraken; they had been deceived, betrayed by the very department they trusted.
They could only look up at the helicopters, hoping they would adjust to the proper altitude and take them away.
A minute later, the ship tilted nearly forty degrees, and they had to hold hands to maintain balance on the deck.
At this moment, the only two helicopters finally descended to the predetermined height, and two twenty-meter-long ropes dropped before the crowd.
“Don’t panic, go one by one!” the leader of Team Eleven tried to maintain the calm.
The security officers moved quickly, silently and orderly. Each person climbed a segment of distance, and another would follow immediately; both helicopters could accommodate five to six people each.
Liu Kangyun, more severely burned, received priority as an injured individual. He climbed first, and even as the burns on his face and body continued to bleed, he didn’t slow in the slightest.
The second was Jiang Ming, because Xueyao Shu insisted on being the last.
The third was Kui Xin.
Just as Jiang Ming climbed one step up, Kui Xin was about to take his place when an unexpected incident occurred.
On the deck, where only the sounds of crackling flames and faint explosions had been, gunfire suddenly erupted. The moment the gun was raised, Kui Xin’s instincts set off frantic alarms; however, the gun wasn’t aimed at the security officers—the targeting laser dot appeared over the helicopter!
The shooter expertly aimed through the wide-open door at the pilot!
With a bang, a bullet hole appeared in the pilot’s head, blood spraying across the glass, and the helicopter immediately lost control, colliding with another helicopter dangerously close. Both helicopters erupted into fireballs as they crashed onto the deck.
The security officers who managed to board the helicopters were buried under the burning wreckage, followed by a sequences of explosions as the fuel tanks blew up.
Kui Xin ducked down, the shockwave from the explosion surging toward her without resistance, causing her chest to tighten painfully. She spat blood, while a stream of blood poured from her nose, and shards of glass and metal sliced at her back, one sharp piece piercing her flesh, almost reaching her organs.
When Kui Xin lifted her head, she saw a dark figure atop the captain’s office lookout—Lan Lan.
The sniper was Lan Lan! No… not Lan Lan, but the instigator had taken on her form!
He had blown up the helicopter, causing severe casualties among the security officers aboard, leaving them without their last means of escape.
Kui Xin was consumed by rage, reaching behind her back to pull out the sharp object lodged in her, realizing at that moment the targeting laser dot was now on her, aimed directly at her heart.
Kui Xin rolled to the ground, narrowly dodging the bullet, which left a pristine bullet pit on the deck.
leaping to her feet, she darts behind cover and shouted, “Captain! Jiang Ming!”
But her teammates remained unresponsive, silently lying on the deck, their bodies rolling downward with the incline.
The few security officers still alive lay moaning on the gangway… she was the only one standing, able to move freely.
“Stay calm… you can only rely on yourself,” Kui Xin focused on the firearm slowly sliding down the deck.
Her gun had accidentally fallen to the ground, leaving her without an easily wielded weapon.
Once her wounds had nearly healed, Kui Xin sprang into action, darting in an S-pattern toward the firearm and snatching it to her chest before diving back for cover.
Bullets chased after her, grazing the ground but failing to hit her body. The sniper was always a moment behind her movements.
In that instant, hiding behind cover, Kui Xin’s whole demeanor changed.
She became extraordinarily fierce, radiating killing intent.
She opened the magazine, counted the bullets one by one, and calmly reloaded them. The sound of loading echoed amidst the silent flames of the freighter, illuminating her face.
“Are you there? Augus.” Kui Xin’s face was expressionless.
“I’m always here when the communicator has a signal,” Augus replied.
“Why are you hiding the truth?” Kui Xin demanded. “Help me connect to the Minister, the Vice Minister, or Team Leader Wei Zhi, I need to question them!”
“Sorry, security officer Kui Xin, I cannot connect you to their communications,” Augus said. “That’s the directive.”
“What is being transported on the Kraken? Tell me,” Kui Xin urged. “They’re dying for some unknown cargo, I’m about to die too; I need an answer.”
Augus fell silent.
“…” Kui Xin laughed in anger, “Artificial intelligence is indeed artificial intelligence; I can’t expect you to spill anything.”
“…In any case, you are going to die; why not take a look for yourself?” Augus prompted. “Kui Xin, the only thing you can do now is to resist. Dying without resistance and dying while fighting back—given your personality, you would certainly choose the latter; that is my judgement.”
Kui Xin’s hand gripping the gun froze.
“I will watch you resist, Kui Xin. Before you pass away, I will bless you like a friend attending a funeral.”
Once Augus finished speaking, the communication was cut off.
