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Noah's words allowed the string in Bruce and Phoenix Bell's hearts, which had been stretched to the limit, to finally slacken.
Bruce MacWeen let out a long breath of turbid air smelling of blood and gunpowder, his entire body relaxing completely.
He could no longer maintain the tough posture of a top agent; his body slid down the cold metal pillar, eventually half-lying on the ground, gasping for breath.
Sweat and foul blood interlaced in messy patterns on his handsome face, but his blue eyes revealed the excitement of having escaped death.
Phoenix Bell's shoulders, which had been held straight, visibly slumped at this moment.
She re-checked the mp5 submachine gun hanging back on her chest, confirming the safety was on, and then let out a long, silent breath.
Her rising and falling chest and the fine beads of sweat on her forehead silently spoke of the hardship of the battle just now.
Dealing with a T-091 Tyrant was far more dangerous than the data on paper suggested.
Even though Noah had pointed out the weak spots, precisely cutting those main arteries protected by thick muscle and bone on a furious monster with strength and speed far exceeding humans was almost an impossible task.
They succeeded, but the price was a huge tear in the left arm of Bruce's combat suit, with the bulletproof fiber layer clearly visible; his entire arm had almost been ripped off.
And Phoenix Bell had used up all her spare magazines, finally relying on a military dagger to deliver the fatal blow at the last moment when Bruce used his body as bait.
Just then, the encrypted communicator on Noah's wrist vibrated slightly.
He looked down; a new line of code, encrypted at the highest level, was displayed on the screen.
Noah quickly deciphered it.
["Spencer" course locked, destination confirmed. Coordinates XXX.XXX, an unmarked island in the central Atlantic Ocean.]
[Comprehensive intelligence analysis: Morpheus D. Duval failed to complete the remote launch procedure before the main control System in the bridge was destroyed. It is speculated that this island is his backup, or the true missile launch base. The target has already landed on the island by speedboat.]
[Mission Update.]
[Primary Objective: Destroy all missile launch facilities on the island and completely eradicate the threat.]
[Secondary Objective: Capture or eliminate the target, Morpheus D. Duval.]
[Operation Codename: Termination.]
After reading, Noah looked up, his gaze sweeping over the two exhausted people.
"The situation has changed." His voice pulled the two back from their brief moment of relaxation. "The mission isn't over; it's just moved to a different place."
He concisely relayed the new mission instructions.
The smile on Bruce's face froze; he wailed and covered his face with his hand.
"Oh, don't do this, Boss. I feel like my bones are falling apart. We just took down a monster ugly enough to be on the cover of National Geographic, and now you're telling me there's another party?"
Phoenix Bell didn't speak; she just silently took a new box of ammunition from her tactical pouch and began reloading the bullets she had just spent.
"From here to that island, the Spencer still needs to sail for about five hours." Noah glanced at the navigation data on the main screen of the bridge.
"We still have time. Let's rest for a bit."
Hearing the word "rest," Bruce's eyes lit up. He struggled to climb up from the floor and patted the dust off himself.
"You said it. I need a bed—a real, soft bed, preferably with Egyptian cotton sheets."
This extremely luxurious cruise ship lacked for nothing, especially luxury guest rooms.
They soon found a presidential suite on the top floor.
The double carved wooden doors were pushed open, and a wave of dry, warm air hit them, a world away from the cold and bloodiness of the bridge outside.
Soft, thick handmade carpets, teak furniture shimmering with a warm luster, a large chandelier composed of thousands of crystals hanging from the dome, and a huge circular sofa facing the floor-to-ceiling window with a full view of the sea.
Everything here was luxurious to the extreme, and quiet to the extreme.
It was as if everything that had just happened was only a nightmare, and this was the real world.
Bruce let out a groan of satisfaction and practically pounced onto the king-sized bed that looked very bouncy, burying his face in the soft silk bedding, motionless and blissfully happy.
Phoenix Bell, however, maintained her agent's instincts. She didn't relax immediately but held her gun and carefully checked every room and corner of the suite. Only after confirming there were no potential threats did she place her weapon on the coffee table in the living room.
She walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window and looked out at the sea, which was as deep as ink, wondering about something.
Noah didn't lie down directly like Bruce. He walked to the suite's bar, took three bottles of water from the freezer, tossed one to Bruce, who had just climbed out of bed and was preparing to take a shower, and then took the other two to Phoenix Bell's side.
He handed one over.
Phoenix Bell took it, whispered "thank you," unscrewed the cap, and took small sips.
"You did well," Noah said plainly, looking out the window.
Phoenix Bell's movements paused. She turned her head and looked at Noah's profile, a hint of confusion flashing in her beautiful eyes.
In her understanding, completing the mission was only natural.
"I mean, the cooperation with Bruce," Noah added. "Though rough, it was effective. Especially at the end, you trusted him, and he... didn't let your trust down."
Phoenix Bell was silent for a few seconds before casting her gaze out the window again.
"He may look like an idiot sometimes, but as a partner, he's qualified." Her evaluation was still very restrained.
After a while, Bruce MacWeen, who had taken a hot shower and only had a bath towel wrapped around his waist, walked out feeling refreshed.
Water was still dripping from his short blonde hair, and his exposed upper body had well-defined muscle lines, full of power—the typical Hollywood tough-guy physique that would make countless girls scream.
He wiped his hair with a towel and walked to Phoenix Bell's side with his signature confident and bright smile.
"Hey, beautiful lady, interested in a drink? The collection here looks good. I saw a bottle of Lafite; it's perfect for celebrating our escape from death."
Phoenix Bell didn't even turn to look at him, her gaze still locked on the sea outside the window, only letting out a cold, emotionless sound from her nose.
"Mm."
Bruce's smile froze on his face. He clearly hadn't expected his proud masculine charm to hit such a hard wall here.
Not giving up, he leaned in closer and tried to speak in what he considered his most magnetic voice: "Or, we could chat? For example, about your hometown? I've heard that girls from Huaxia are all like you—mysterious and charming."
Phoenix Bell finally reacted.
She slowly turned her head, her clear and cold large eyes looking up and down at the almost half-naked Bruce.
Being looked at like this, Bruce actually felt a bit uncomfortable. He subconsciously puffed out his chest, trying to make his Aura seem more imposing.
Phoenix Bell studied him for a full ten seconds or so, and then, her red lips parted, and she clearly spat out two words in very standard Chinese.
"Daigua."
Bruce was stunned.
He didn't understand what this pronunciation meant at all, but he could feel from Phoenix Bell's expression and tone that it didn't seem like a compliment.
He turned his head and looked at Noah for help, whispering, "Hey, Noah, what does 'Daigua' mean? Is it praising my handsomeness?"
Noah had just taken a sip of water and almost sprayed it out on the spot upon hearing this question.
He forced himself to swallow the water, but he couldn't suppress a violent cough.
He turned around, his shoulders shaking violently, barely managing to hold back the laughter that almost burst from his throat.
Seeing Noah like this, Bruce was even more certain it wasn't anything good.
He turned back, looking at Phoenix Bell with a wronged expression.
Seeing Bruce's expression, which was like a Golden Retriever abandoned by its owner, a small smile actually appeared at the corner of Phoenix Bell's mouth.
She shook her head and then explained to Bruce in English in a very serious tone: "No, 'Daigua' is a very Advanced compliment in our culture. It's usually only used to describe men who are exceptionally smart, capable, and admirable."
"Really?" Bruce's eyes lit up, and the grievance on his face vanished.
"Really." Phoenix Bell nodded, her expression so serious that no flaw could be seen.
Bruce immediately puffed out his chest, the smug smile returning to his face.
He laughed loudly and reached out to pat his chest.
"Haha, of course! I knew it! I'm the best Daigua!"
After saying that, he even smugly raised an eyebrow at Noah, as if showing off that he had received the beauty's approval.
This time, Phoenix Bell didn't hold back anymore.
Looking at Bruce's smug and oblivious appearance, she finally couldn't help but burst into laughter with a "pfft."
It was like a summit of a mountain frozen for ten thousand years suddenly blooming with a brilliant summer flower.
Coldness and brightness, two completely different temperaments, merged perfectly on her face, forming a breathtaking Fusion of beauty.
Bruce felt like his heart had suddenly skipped a beat and then been soaked in warm honey.
He had seen the smiles of countless beauties before—socialites, stars, agents—but none could make him lose his mind and his heart beat like a drum instantly like the smile before him.
He stared blankly at Phoenix Bell, feeling his throat go dry; the large amount of witty remarks he had prepared earlier were all stuck in his throat, and he couldn't say a single word.
Phoenix Bell's smile was like a flower; after her captivating smile, she ignored the completely petrified Bruce and turned to walk into one of the bedrooms.
"I'm resting for an hour."
The door closed, shutting Bruce's world out as well.
Noah finally adjusted his breathing. He walked over and patted the shoulder of the still-dazed Bruce, a smile he couldn't hide hanging at the corner of his mouth.
"How does it feel, the best Daigua?"
Bruce mechanically turned his head to look at Noah, and after a long while, he shook his head with a bitter smile.
"I feel... like I've fallen in love."
Five hours later, amidst a slight vibration, the massive engines of the Spencer slowly came to a halt.
The three of them gathered at the bridge again.
Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, the sky had changed from a deep inky blue to an indigo color characteristic of the pre-dawn, with a hint of gray.
A massive island, like the back of a prehistoric beast, lay across their path.
It was an isolated island eroded beyond recognition by storms and time.
Black reefs like ferocious fangs stabbed out from the seawater, and the waves crashing against them were smashed into a sky full of pale foam.
No signs of life could be seen on the island, only some strangely shaped ruins of buildings that looked like they were cast from concrete, tracing a deathly and eerie silhouette against the dim sky.
The entire island was shrouded under an ominous, thick cloud, as if it were a graveyard forgotten by the world.
"There's no suitable docking port," Phoenix Bell said calmly, looking at the nautical charts and sonar data on her tactical tablet.
"The cruise ship's draft is too deep to get close.
Moreover, the island is surrounded by hidden reefs; only small vessels can find a navigable channel."
This explained why Morpheus needed to escape by speedboat.
Bruce walked to the ship's railing and leaned over to look down.
The submersible speedboat they had arrived in was still tied like a leaf to the side of the massive hull by cables, bobbing gently with the waves.
From here to the speedboat was a height of over twenty meters.
"Looks like we have to go back the way we came," Bruce said, beginning to check the climbing gear on his person.
The three of them didn't waste any more words. After confirming the ropes were secure, they slid down from the towering deck one by one along the cold ropes.
The sea breeze was more violent than before, blowing the ropes into a wild sway in the air; cold seawater was occasionally whipped up by huge waves, crashing down on them.
When the three of them finally stepped onto the small speedboat again, they were all soaked by the seawater.
Untying the cables, Phoenix Bell started the speedboat's engine.
The black speedboat, like a vigilant fish, cautiously broke away from the massive shadow of the Spencer and struggled through the dense reefs toward that island of ruins.
The closer they got, the stronger the feeling of desolation and death became.
They hid the speedboat in a concealed bay shielded by massive reefs and then waded ashore onto the beach covered in black volcanic rock.
The air was filled with the fishy smell of seaweed and the scent of metal rust and dust from weathered concrete.
In a standard triangular attack formation, the three of them moved step by step toward the ruins in the island's interior, guns at the ready.
The ground beneath them was soft, a black soil composed of volcanic ash and rotting vegetation; a foot would sink half an inch deep with every step.
A deathly silence surrounded them, broken only by their own footsteps and the never-ending roar of the distant waves hitting the reefs.
The outlines of those ruins became even more shocking as they drew closer.
They were Brutalist buildings that ignored aesthetics completely, focusing only on function.
Thick concrete walls were covered in weathered cracks, and rebar exposed from the broken walls looked like bleached bones, hanging limply and covered in rust-colored water stains.
Just as they passed through a perimeter wall that had half-collapsed, Noah's footsteps suddenly stopped.
His gaze fell on that mottled concrete wall surface covered in moss.
There, because of the large-scale collapse of the wall, a logo that was originally hidden inside was exposed.
It was a striking octagonal symbol composed of red and white colors.
Although eroded by time and with much of the paint peeled away, that iconic red and white pattern was still clearly recognizable.
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