Chapter 51

Chapter 51: Sea Without Light Part 51

“Lan Lan? Lan Lan!” Shu Xueyao repeatedly said into the communicator, “Please respond! Lan Lan! Please respond!”

There was silence within the communicator.

“When I lost the heartbeat data of security officer Lan Lan, I heard metallic sounds striking against the body,” Captain Adam said. “In situations where an officer may be in danger, we can activate first-level alert.”

Adam’s programming was set to report three times in case of no response, before informing the rest of the team and other collaborating groups. This was because during missions, many people could easily cause communication interference by being on the same channel, which could confuse and disrupt interactions. Typically, only in urgent circumstances would they communicate across different channels and groups in real-time.

No one expected this mission would have complications; they had all assumed the danger came from pirate groups roaming the sea. Who would suspect the people on the Kraken? The Kraken Freight Company had numerous collaborations with the Federation Government, so the Investigation Bureau wouldn’t need to carry out maritime escort duties otherwise.

“Initiate first-level alert,” Shu Xueyao said, making a signal for Wei Xin and Liu Kangyun to begin their operation. They hurried down the corridor.

The artificial intelligence server room of the ship was located two levels below the deck, which was heavily safeguarded with only one entrance needing biometric verification from the captain to enter, found on the upper deck in his office. There were no ways to access that entrance directly from the second level underground.

“First-level alert has been initiated. The alert will be sent to all task executioners’ communicators,” Adam said. “The Eleventh Squad has acknowledged Captain Shu’s mission invitation and is preparing to board the ship.”

“Jiang Ming,” Shu Xueyao said, “How is your situation? Can you meet the Eleventh Squad on the deck?”

“Everything is normal here,” Jiang Ming’s voice echoed through the communicator. “I am at the lookout point and able to provide support.”

Shu Xueyao replied, “Be cautious and avoid acting alone. Watch out for hidden adversaries.”

Footsteps echoed through the empty corridor; the metal floor produced heavy sounds each step, as if pounding their hearts.

Wei Xin remained calm amidst the chaos.

“Aiyah…” A voice suddenly came from the communicator. It was obviously from Lan Lan, who seemed to be suffering. “I got hit on my head by a fallen steel sheet while repairing the machine room. I’m okay now.”

Wei Xin slowed her steps, while Liu Kangyun sighed in relief.

“Hell, you almost scared me to death!” Jiang Ming’s voice came through, “I thought you were dead!”

“There’s some misfortune,” Lan Lan said with a bitter smile, “But I’m alright.”

“Lan Lan,” said Shu Xueyao, “Are you sure you’re fine? Where is the captain?”

“The captain just left the machine room to go to the circuit breaker room to open the spare power source. The machine room is currently without power,” Lan Lan replied, “I really am fine.”

“Security Officer Lan Lan, please confirm if your life-monitoring equipment is still present?” Adam asked, “I cannot detect your heart rate or physical status.”

“It’s still here… Ah!” Lan Lan paused, “It’s broken. Wait, the captain is coming!”

“Good heavens, what happened! There’s blood on your head!” Captain Adam’s warm and concerned voice came through, “Come quickly, I’ll take you to the medical room for treatment!”

“Phew… looks like the machine room can’t be repaired tonight,” Lan Lan said, “Captain, I need to go to the medical room first. You guys get some rest.”

“…go.” Shu Xueyao responded.

A moment of silence passed through the communicator, and Shu Xueyao showed a contemplative expression.

“The voice recognition analysis is complete; it belongs to Security Officer Lan Lan. Personnel confirmed,” Adam switched to a separate communication channel, isolating Lan Lan.

Liu Kangyun fully relaxed herself, “It was just a scare. We can deactivate the alert…”

“Not yet, please listen to my analysis before concluding,” Adam continued, “The voices in the communication channel undoubtedly belong to Security Officer Lan Lan and Captain Adam, but audio analysis shows Captain Adam is speaking towards the communicator rather than from afar, which doesn’t align logically.”

Adam could distinguish if a teammate was speaking directly into the microphone or from a distance by the sound volume and vocal tone.

This could be difficult to discern by human ears, but the AI could analyze and differentiate these details from audio.

“Lan Lan is lying?” Wei Xin murmured softly, “The captain hasn’t left, he’s right next to him. He even speaks straight into the communicator.”

“If the captain had indeed left, his voice would gradually become smaller and quieter from far away as per the audio clip, but there’s none of such detail in the audio,” Adam explained simply. “Therefore, I cannot confirm the deactivation. As a team member, Lan Lan would not lie to his comrades. Upon comparing recorded communication audios of Lan Lan, his tone does not match his usual habit. Hence, it was not Lan Lan, but someone else, who was speaking into the communicator.”

“Carry on with the original plan,” Shu Xueyao said.

“…Affirmative,” Jiang Ming’s grave voice came through the channel.

Liu Kangyun lowered her head, gripping her weapon tighter.

The fate of Lan Lan was unknown to them, and as teammates, they were more anxious than anyone.

“From now on, the communications channel dedicated to Security Officer Lan Lan will be shielded off. I’ll timely inform teams of any updates. The Eleventh Squad has already secured ropes for boarding. Assistance will be imminent,” Adam said.

The communication with Lan Lan didn’t relieve tensions within the Seventh Squad, instead heightening their alertness.

Who other than Lan Lan spoke into the communicator? How did he manage to mimic Lan Lan’s voice so accurately? Did the real Lan Lan meet his demise?

Captain Adam clearly wasn’t acting normally—what was his motive?

Projected atop the visor of their helmets lay a blueprint of the Kraken, every zone visible at a glance.

Now, they had two goals: first, confirming the fate of Lan Lan; second, investigating the entire ship.

To access the machine room, they needed to descend from the lower deck to the captain’s office above. With Adam’s support, overriding authentication to unlock the machine room doors should be feasible.

Wei Xin and her two teammates rounded the corner into a residential area for crew members. Close to where they rested in collective dormitories with four people per room.

Their sleeping quarters were behind the crew’s residence, having already passed through earlier when descending into the lower deck. The captain had informed them that most crew members would likely be asleep at this time of night.

“We’ve made such a racket running, yet nobody woke up to check,” Wei Xin stopped after sprinting for a distance, “This is strange.”

Shu Xueyao and Liu Kangyun realized something peculiar as well and cautiously slowed their pace. Holding their weapons together, they pushed open the door to the crew rooms.

With a loud bang, the door swung open revealing an empty interior. Wei Xin redirected her firearm to kick open the next door, finding still nothing but emptiness inside. Splitting up, they kicked open several more doors, each found deserted. The crew seemed to vanish without a trace, leaving the residential area desolate.

“Where did everyone go?” Liu Kangyun’s back was dripping cold sweat, “We were quite certain we saw people earlier!”

“Bang! Bang-bang!” One of the doors suddenly emitted a tapping noise, all other doors remaining silent.

“I believe the danger is behind this door,” whispered Wei Xin, “This door gives me a different feeling.”

Together, the trio gathered closely, guns cocked and readied.

Moments later, the knocking ceased.

“Let’s open it,” urged Shu Xueyao.

Wei Xin replaced the pistol with an assault rifle from her back.

Advancing, Wei Xin kicked, and the door flew open, revealing a torrent of dark red tentacles pouring from the doorway, some coiling around Wei Xin’s legs!

These tentacles bore hooks resembling fishhooks, secreting a viscous liquid capable of dissolving materials. Even the bulletproof gear worn by the Investigation Bureau was useless, as the hooks swiftly slashed Wei Xin’s thigh, tearing it into bloody strips.

Wei Xin, with her tactical boots rubbing on the ground, quickly braced against the doorway to prevent being pulled in further, shooting at the creatures. Her advantage with team support enabled her to face the danger without being alone. Shu Xueyao unhesitatingly shot the tentacles, momentarily deterring them, while Liu Kangyun retrieved a micro bomb from his waist, igniting and throwing it inside.

A micro bomb provided to the Investigation Bureau had an explosion radius of around two meters, ensuring minimal risk to themselves if handled correctly.

“Close the door!” Liu Kangyun pulled the handle, blocking the doorway. His forehead strained visibly.

Wei Xin, Shu Xueyao, and her other teammate struggled to pull the door shut, tentacles twitched frantically against the edges.

Immediately afterwards, explosions rumbled within the chamber, hurling them back and collapsing them on the floor due to the shockwave. Tentacles convulsed, lifeless.

After seconds of stillness, the deformed door shuddered, clattering to the ground, revealing horrors beyond.

Dark red limbs burst from torn human torsos, bodies nearly unrecognizable due to extreme deformation. Several corpses littered the space, shriveled completely drained of nourishment. The creature had already transferred hosts multiple times.

“Red Spine Hunters are aboard?” Liu Kangyun exclaimed from the ground, horrified. “And it’s in its growth phase, even larger than our samples!”

“Looks like a Red Spine Hunter but this appears mutated version. Those tentacles, they aren’t supposed to have hooks?” Shu Xueyao staggered as Wei Xin supported him. He coughed, gasping, “Adam, notify the others! There are unknown xenoforms aboard Kraken!”

Wei Xin suffered the mildest injuries, though minor gashes from hooks were healing, her brow singed from the explosion healing as well.

Her face grim, “Is Adam someone from the secret cult? Is he a Heterogeneous Blooded? Why else would he hide a Red Spine Hunter here, even target Lan Lan? Could there not be more creatures aboard?”

Wei Xin scanned the tightly sealed doors carefully, muscles tense with a mounting sense of pressure from within.

“You must verify if Lan Lan is alive before exiting the lower deck. We might need to retreat to the escort vessels before then,” Shu Xueyao said, “If we stay any longer, we may face more dangers. Ensure his safety.”

“I advise you not to do so, Captain Shu. The probability of Security Officer Lan Lan surviving is under fifty percent. If survival odds are less than half, you shouldn’t risk checking,” Adam suggested gravely, “Every fleet commander and deputy minister have been notified of current situations; orders were immediately given for expedited departure of all teams from Kraken. Return to the deck, Seventh Squad, and wait for the Eleventh Squad’s rendezvous for evacuation.”

Adam’s words sounded like those of a human, simulating human thinking; however, his mechanical voice and cold judgments continually remind others it’s an AI. It reasons logically, always prioritizing rational choices. At times, it would suggest abandoning a comrade.

Just as Captain Shu Xueyao was about to give his decision, his communicator crackled with an unfamiliar male voice:

“Shu Xueyao,” the man said, “Head to the deck immediately. This isn’t a suggestion, it’s an order. I am commanding you by authority to withdraw.”

“Deputy Minister?” Liu Kangyun identified the voice.

“…Yes” Shu Xueyao paused before forcing his words out, “Withdraw.”

“I’m going to the kitchen freezer,” Wei Xin continued loading her weapon, “Tang Guan specifically left a note indicating something abnormal in the freezer. I need to know what it is—it must be important.”

“No human encounters since our journey began,” Liu Kangyun raised a brow, “Where’s that crewman holed up?”

“Dunno,” Wei Xin retreated toward the kitchen, “But he’s not here.”

The kitchen was nearby where they previously passed through but were too rushed to inspect. Now, with Adam’s low estimate of Lan Lan’s survival and the Deputy Minister’s order to withdraw, she seized this opportunity to inspect the kitchen freezer.

Locked doors required action. A shot rang out, breaking the lock, then a swift kick opened the portal.

The kitchen devoid, cooking utensils meticulously arranged, yet hygiene standards were abysmal, a foul scent of spoiled food permeated the area, littered with discarded packaging.

Wei Xin dashed to the freezer. Thankfully, it was padlocked, opening without resistance.

Ming Cloud and Shu Xueyao followed suit, noticing a plume of frost as the door opened. Wary, they raised their guns.

Exhausted from the harrowing encounter, focus intensified.

A pungent odor mingled with icy air. Wei Xin barely held back from vomiting.

“Ting…”

A skull covered in frost rolled out from the freezer door. Impacting the floor with a clear sound, frozen stiff.

Wei Xin stepped back, eyes wide.

Once the freezer’s door fully opened, revealed a snowy catacomb concealing heaps of cadavers.

Dozens stacked into small mountains. Solidified bloodstains reddened the floor, dripping icicle-like formations.

Examining outfits, these were unmistakably seamen from the Kraken.

Expression fixated, Wei Xin numbly shifted her foot, knocking over another head.

Groomed beard, rugged face, Caucasian features…

“Captain Adam!” Liu Kangyun cried aloud.

Part of the captain’s corpse was here… who interacted with the Seventh Squad after boarding?

One Adam died; could another exist elsewhere?

“Withdraw!” Shu Xueyao’s teeth gritted out.

No words necessary; Wei Xin and Ming Cloud bolted, resuming their mad dash.

Just before reaching the main deck access, Liu Kangyun slipped, sliding down. Shu Xueyao stumbled, Wei Xin nearly losing balance on an oily surface.

The deck was slick, slippery fluid trickling down, coating vast stretches of flooring.

“Oil!” Wei Xin recognized.

Such substance onboard was usual but faint. Now the stench was intense, oil beneath their feet.

Peering upward, the access stairs to the deck were mysteriously locked.

Trapped here!

Overhead, footsteps sounded on the deck.

Click, ignited, a lighter fell.

Fire engulfed oil! Flames spread rapidly. Most worrying, Shu Yexiao and Liu Kangyun crashed onto the oil and were now covered in it.

Yet,凭借经验他们在摔倒瞬间迅速爬起并向后撤，避开了火焰点燃的瞬间。

他们两人望着烈焰，表情极度沮丧。哪怕是一秒钟的延迟，他们就会变成全身着火的火球。

“洗手间有水！快去！” Wei Xin迅速说道。

无需提醒，Shu Xueyao和Liu Kangyun立刻冲向洗手间。

滚滚的浓烟升起，让他们呼吸困难。幸好走廊全为金属结构，火灾蔓延需要时间。然而，即使这样，金属反射和传导的热量让周围的热量更加难耐，更何况燃烧产生的烟雾使他们随时面临窒息。

Wei Xin扯下浴室的帘子，打算将其浸湿披在身上，却发现打开水龙头没有一滴水。

“该死的！”一向不骂脏话的Liu Kangyun爆了粗口,”洗手间里没有水！那个混蛋把水闸拉了？！”

“厨房里有一个饮水机，还剩半桶矿泉水，足够用了。” Shu Xueyao冷静地说。

Wei Xin绕了一圈，找到了一桶拖把水，“厨房太远，用这个！将帘布拆下来浸泡在水里！”

他们用湿透的帘布裹在身上捂住口鼻，回到走廊，望着熊熊燃烧的火场。

“用炸弹炸开那玩意儿！” Liu Kangyun取出腰间的微型炸弹朝楼梯间扔去。

炸弹精准地投掷在楼梯口的挡板上，在接触楼梯的下一秒就发生了爆炸。

轰隆一声剧响，挡板完好无损。

Liu Kangyun崩溃了：“这玩意儿怎么会这么坚固？！”

“Kraken的设计之初进行了各种防暴测试，以抵御海盗等非法武装袭击。理论上甲板大门可以承受火箭助推的冲击而不变形或破碎，” Adam说，”建议大家转移到空气充足的区域等待救援，携带的武器不足以打开这道门。”

Jiang Ming急迫的声音通过他们的耳朵，“不要慌！我们已经到了，正在尝试打开甲板大门，请你们退后远离。”

Wei Xin剧烈咳嗽，尽管穿着厚实的战术靴，依然感觉到地板上的热度。

她并未慌乱，因为在阴影穿梭的加持下，可以穿越空间的阻碍。

但是Shu Xueyao和Liu Kangyun却无法逃脱。

作为队友，作为一个想长期在调查局工作的人，Wei Xin不能做的太过分，这是她的生存之道。

既然其他队友已经在甲板门外了，她可以再等一等。不到万不得已的境地，她绝不会暴露底牌。