The night was deep, the vast ocean undulated with waves, reflecting the shimmering moonlight. A cargo ship sailed forward under the night, stable, heavy, and slow. The lights on the ship flickered, silent and devoid of any human shadows, a strong smell of blood wafting away with the wind, appearing extremely eerie.
Inside the cockpit, Tiger Girl stared coldly at three pilots, her peripheral vision occasionally glancing at the corridor until that familiar figure approached, finally allowing her to breathe a sigh of relief. It was Little Lang who entered; after an intense battle, Jackson was nowhere to be seen, which greatly irritated Little Lang. He returned to search, leaving no room or corner unchecked, yet Jackson was still unfound. Little Lang approached with a cold face, glaring at one of the pilots like a ravenous wolf and asked, "Who is the captain?"
"I am." A middle-aged man said in a deep voice, his eyes filled with worry as he looked at Little Lang.
