On the television screen, a throwing knife buried itself precisely into a pirate’s heart, splashing a dark red stain across the display.
“Full marks!” Beelzebub shouted, jumping up from the sofa with her arms raised. She looked like the most fanatical spectator in a theater box, cheering for her favorite protagonist.
Popcorn crumbs fell from her fingers, looking like a shower of cheap gold in the dim light.
Lilith’s gaze, however, did not linger on the screen. She sat upright, her crimson skirt spreading across the sofa like a pool of congealed blood.
“Have you heard that fable,” she suddenly spoke, her voice low, “about the North Wind and the Sun?”
Beelzebub’s movements froze. She slowly turned her head, the exaggerated smile not yet fully faded from her face, though surprise flickered in her eyes. “Strange. I thought you always looked down on these… little stories humans make up.”
“A traveler was walking in the bitter winter.” Lilith ignored the teasing and continued. Her voice was calm. “The North Wind and the Sun made a bet to see who could make him take off his cloak.”
“The North Wind blew violently, trying to use the freezing cold to force his submission. But the traveler only wrapped his clothes tighter.” She paused for a moment. “And the Sun simply shone with warmth. It wasn’t long before the traveler unbuttoned his cloak himself.”
The room fell into a brief silence, save for the muffled sound of waves coming from the television.
The surprise on Beelzebub’s face gradually morphed into a comical realization. She cocked an eyebrow. “Aha! So you’re saying that you are the Sun? That you always have a way to melt a heart with warmth?” She drawled her words as if she had heard a preposterous joke. “Lilith, darling, have you forgotten what we actually are?”
Lilith watched her quietly, taking in the blatant sarcasm in Beelzebub’s eyes. Then, she shook her head.
“No.”
“I am simply saying that as long as the target is human, whether it is the crude oppression of the North Wind or the gentle temptation of the Sun…”
“There is always a way to touch his deepest weakness and make him, eventually… choose to yield.”
“The only difference is,” she turned her gaze back to the screen, “which role you choose to play, and what price you are willing to pay for that submission.”
“Oh, then let me wait and see.” Beelzebub returned her attention to the screen like a loyal fan.
***
The dice settled, and the echoes faded into the sea breeze. The four people sat back down around the square table, the insignias on the backs of their hands still radiating a slight warmth. To a Beyonder, the battle just now felt more like a warm-up—an efficient, crushing victory. However, as Jiang Ming rubbed the cooling barrel of the Raven Gun, he knew this was only the prologue. One magazine was empty, and only three throwing knives had been recovered. In these treacherous waters, every consumable could be the key to future survival.
“It is the next person’s turn to draw an event.” The Secret Keeper’s voice came flatly as the mask turned toward Elvia.
Elvia bit her lower lip, her slender fingers reaching toward the deck to pull a card. The moment the card flipped, dark red writing surfaced over the texture of the old, brownish paper:
[Event Card: The Dying and the Dead]
The Secret Keeper took the card, his voice spreading out like a chant. “The voyage continues. Amidst the infinite deep blue, you spot a lone boat drifting with the waves. The vessel’s silhouette is tiny, yet you can vaguely see a curled-up human figure upon it—is it a living soul, or a mere wreck? You may choose to approach and investigate, but the sea waits for no one. The price of delay might be a missed tide, or perhaps drawing the gaze of something deeper. Of course, you may also sail straight past, leaving the riddle to the ocean.”
As the words fell, three sets of eyes landed on Jiang Ming’s face almost simultaneously. Lillian’s gaze was as still as a deep pool, Elvira’s was as steady as a shield, and even the most flighty, Elvia, pursed her lips as she waited for a decision.
They had already come to view him as the backbone of the team.
That trust was heavy, making Jiang Ming’s shoulders tighten slightly. He was never used to carrying the fate of others, but now, the reins had been handed to him.
The sea breeze passed through the mast, letting out a low moan. The distant silhouette of the boat bobbed between the waves like a speck of dust about to be extinguished.
Jiang Ming closed his eyes and took a breath. The Spirit Source Heavenly Wind hummed low in his veins, sensing the subtle vibrations in the surrounding airflow. There were no omens of danger, but there were no promises of peace either.
This was a gamble; every step swayed the scales. But if one did not dare to face even the unknown right in front of them, how could they reach the end?
He opened his eyes, his gaze cutting through his hesitation.
“Approach, slow down, and stay alert. Elvira, watch the hull and the perimeter. Lillian, prepare to handle any potential illusions or curses. Elvia, sense for signs of life, whether living or dead.”
He stood up, his hand resting on the railing.
“This isn’t a game,” he whispered to the vast ocean and the three people behind him. “So, we have to treat every step as if it’s our last.”
The waves pushed the Argo forward, slowly closing in on the lone boat. As the distance narrowed, the mottled hull and tattered sails became clear. The curled-up figure on the boat remained motionless, looking like a tombstone that had long since solidified.
Between the sea and the sky, there was only the sound of wind, the waves, and their tightening breaths.
The ship began to draw alongside the small boat. As the figure became clearer, Jiang Ming found the clothes the person wore increasingly familiar.
It was a man wearing the uniform of the Order Bureau. At this moment, his eyes were tightly shut.
“The life signs are very weak,” Elvia said, biting her lip. In her perception, there was almost no difference between him and a corpse.
The Argo sliced through the deep blue silk of the water, slowly nearing the lone vessel.
When the distance shortened to 30 yards, the color of the seawater became strange.
It was a thick, oily, dark green that carried a faint stench, looking completely out of place against the clear surrounding blue. The small boat bobbed with the waves, its hull covered in barnacles and erosion marks as if it had been drifting for decades. The figure huddled upon it was wrapped in a tattered, dark uniform, unmoving.
“Life signs… very weak, like a flickering candle in the wind.” Elvia closed her eyes to concentrate, the pale gold Branch Insignia on the back of her hand glowing slightly. “But… he is indeed alive. It’s just… there’s something else in the water around him… something very cold, and very… hungry.”
Jiang Ming’s gaze was sharp as a hawk’s as he scanned the dark green water. The traits of a Truth-Piercing Archer gave him a beast-like intuition for abnormalities. “Elvira, prepare for a surprise attack.”
The moment he spoke, that patch of dark green water exploded!
Several dark figures burst from the water, dragging up foul-smelling spray. They had torsos similar to humans but were covered in slippery, dark green scales. Their fingers were webbed, and their heads were elongated, with split mouths filled with rows of fine, sharp teeth. Their eyes were a murky yellow, devoid of any reason. Clutching rusted bone spears or daggers crafted from coral, they let out raspy, inhuman howls and lunged straight for the Argo’s railing!