In the dead of night, under the gaze of the searchlights, only a faint white mist could be illuminated.

The seawater writhed like a monster, constantly caressing the hull, its hungry tongue licking, raising waves of spine-chilling water sounds.

Sailing at night felt like navigating through Hell.

The grandeur and splendor of the daylight turned into a sinister and terrifying oppression at night.

Yet on the deck, a bonfire had been ignited, a scene of jubilation.

The shattered pieces of furniture were piled together, doused with gasoline, and erupted into roaring flames, lighting up the dark faces filled with joy.

It was as if they were in a frenzy.

People with guns slung over their shoulders sang merrily; food, snacks, raw meat, and flour scavenged from the cabins were put together haphazardly, stuffed into their pockets, then into their mouths.

Some compared their jewelry in the firelight, distinguishing gold and silver, while others marveled at unfamiliar electronic devices, clicking their tongues in wonder.

It was as if it were a New Year celebration.

Gifts and offerings fell from the sky, so generous.

In the flickering firelight, those shadows cast within the mist sketched out bizarre figures, as if wriggling monsters were dancing.

A scene of jubilation.

But below deck, in the chaos of the cabins, it felt like a prison.

Only cries and moans were heard.

Wailing, praying.

Drip, drip, drip...

Blood dripped down from between fingertips.

Throughgoing wounds, blood gushed like a spring, continuously spurting out, dyeing the makeshift bandages torn and pressed against the wounds, the white coats turning crimson.

Among the disheveled prisoners, the person lying on the ground was already dying.

"Doctor Yu, stop wasting your effort."

The emaciated captain lowered his eyes, staring at the dying first mate, "Put him out of his misery."

The doctor turned a deaf ear.

Mechanical, pressing down, his fingers already pale.

A choking voice sounded, mixed with gasps, and on the other side, the crew was still resuscitating, but no more sounds came.

Dead.

"Excessive blood loss, heart stopped." The woman kneeling on the ground raised her head; the remaining blood still stained her glasses, unfortunately, it didn't cover her dim eyes.

Yu Shu was momentarily dazed, then turned back: "What about CPR?"

"It's no use." The female doctor slowly shook her head.

Yu Shu fell silent.

Lowering his head, he watched the injured person in his arms gradually grow pale.

His expression twitched once, and again, until he couldn't hold back the scream.

He yelled at the soldiers laughing and smoking outside the cabin door, "I am a doctor! You can't do this to us! I'm here to save you, I'm here to save you!"

He suddenly climbed up, staggered forward, pounding on the glass, shouting repeatedly, "I'm a doctor! I'm a doctor! I need my medical kit, tweezers, and sutures... I beg you, just..."

But no matter how he shouted, those people just grinned, smoked, and glanced at him, speaking in some dialect. Until Yu Shu rummaged through his pockets.

"I have money, money!"

He found his wallet, threw out the long-useless credit cards and IDs, and pulled out the last few Federation currencies, pleading, "I'll give you money, I still have..."

The man's eyes outside the door lit up instantly, finally, he pushed the door open.

He glanced at Yu Shu's expression and reached out.

"Money, sutures, tweezers..."

Yu Shu repeated over and over.

Suddenly, that person seemed to understand, nodded in realization, took the money, and turned back to wave to his companions, showcasing his spoils.

Then, he suddenly turned around, swung up the gunstock, and smashed it into his face.

Bang!

Yu Shu stumbled to the ground, his sight darkening. The soldier pocketed the money, raised his gun, seemingly furious, yelled in that dialect, occasionally kicking, with the muzzle pressing against his face.

The captain beside him was in a panic, hurriedly raised both hands, trying to explain in that dialect, pleading, until the aggressor snorted coldly.

The door finally closed.

From start to finish, the soldiers outside the door watched this scene mockingly, laughing heartily.

As if they were watching a monkey being beaten.

Only the captain sighed, helping him up, "Give up, Doctor Yu, these guys, they're all mad dogs, at seven or eight, they took drugs and carried guns to kill, they don't even see their fellow as humans, let alone themselves... Why would they care who you are?"

Yu Shu staggered to his feet, dazed, like a walking corpse, step by step returning.

Looking at the dying injured person.

His lips moved slightly.

"Don't be afraid, the sect won't abandon us."

He instinctively comforted, reassured, "Soon, very soon..."

"Doctor, doctor... I'm... so cold... so uncomfortable..."

The injured from blood loss panted, coughed violently, convulsed, struggling to breathe.

Unable to speak anymore.

Yu Shu remained silent, his fingers twitched once, and again.

Abdominal injury, open pneumothorax, blood loss.

Without immediate surgery, the patient, even if not dead from blood loss, would die painfully in prolonged suffocation, slowly choking to death.

Those vacant pupils, looking at him, reflected a plea.

Lips moved silently.

As if praying.

Yu Shu closed his eyes, not daring to look again.

But in the silence, his hands trembled, lifting his own hand, gently placed it on the injured person's neck.

Just... press here... just... for a little while...

Cut off the blood supply to the brain, trigger shock, even a painless and peaceful death.

And so, there were no longer any coughing sounds.

When Yu Shu opened his eyes again, all that was left was a corpse in his arms. He shook it once, and again, but never got any response.

So, he finally understood what he had just… done.

"Ahhhhh—ah!!!!"

The face twisted in agony finally shattered; he cried, roared, and charged at the door like a madman, screaming, "Fuck you all, you bunch of shit, fuck you! Did you hear me? Come, kill me! You trash should spend a lifetime in Hell! In Hell!!!"

No one understood a thing.

Even if they did, no one would care.

Hell?

Wasn't that kind of thing everywhere from the start?!

"Don't feel guilty, Doctor Yu."

The captain sighed, moving the sailor's corpse aside, sighing again, "Going quickly is a good thing… we are the ones in the worst situation."

"Aikonzo… that general who came to power recently in Punabantu's coup, he's an absolute lunatic, covered in tumours from who knows what disease.

Took so many drugs he fried his brain, believes in the Great Food Sect, eats anything."

He paused, his expression grim, "It's said he personally cut off the last president's head and ate his brain raw. Because he thought eating his enemies would give him power, make them never rise again, and steal their lifespan to live forever."

"The people under him, they're all like that…"

"Does that work?" the dazed male nurse couldn't believe it, "Is that guy an idiot? Does he really believe that?"

"You better pray it doesn't work."

The captain crushed the last cigarette in his pocket, chewing on the tobacco, a mocking expression on his face, "In this world, there are Chosen Ones, why wouldn't he believe?"

In the dead silence, everyone fell into silence.

"Doctor Yu, you and your wife are good people, you shouldn't suffer this fate, I can give you a quick one." The captain lowered his voice, speaking softly, "Trust me, falling into their hands is worse than death."

The female doctor stiffened, muttering subconsciously, "The cult, the cult wouldn't…"

"Those guys don't even know when they'll die, they live a day to earn a day, why would they care about the cult?" The captain shook his head, "If they can't get money from the cult, you won't survive, and if they do, they'll silence you too…"

A clamor arose.

A group of people suddenly burst down, and someone seemed to be shouting something as they rushed into the cabin, dragging everyone who was alive out, kicking and beating them, urging them outside.

Everyone was dazed, bewildered, not understanding what was happening.

Only the captain's expression gradually convulsed.

"What did they say?" a crew member asked in a low voice.

"Those guys… they… changed their minds!" The captain's voice trembled, "Just now their general called and said, they don't want the ransom anymore… told them to finish us off neatly, leave no loose ends…"

Suddenly, cries and screams spread out; in the chaotic crowd, someone attempted to escape but was mercilessly shot dead by soldiers holding guns.

In the end, everyone was brought onto the deck, pushed to the edge.

A gun-scarred officer glanced at them, his eyes cold, yelling something in their native language, as if reprimanding them. Then, in rough Empire language, he repeated:

"Despicable foreigners… you are all… disguises of the devil… poisoning us, defying the great god's guidance, the great general will punish you… purify you… grant you the glory of ascending to Heaven… now, pray, to the great god and its worldly avatar, our General!"

He leaned in, staring at the far-left, that dazed, trembling crew member, telling him, "Pray!"

The crew member was baffled, his lips quivering, unable to react.

Bam!

A gunshot rang out.

The crew member fell back into the sea, disappearing from sight.

Only the dull sound of water remained.

Then, the gun-wielding officer moved to the next person, examining their face, "Pray…"

Bam!

A second gunshot, another body fell into the sea, disappearing from sight.

Yu Shu turned his head, gazing blankly into the pitch-black sea.

In a daze, he seemed to hear singing in the distance, so distant.

And corpses, like hallucinations, in the rolling waves, body after body, drifting from afar.

Rotting, swollen, broken, drifting with the tides.

Singing from the sea.

Floating against their direction, slowly drifting past, going to places they couldn't reach.

He suddenly envied those hallucination-like bodies, even in death, those faces bore a release and serenity that he might never touch in his life.

Maybe, there wasn't much difference for everyone, after death, they might appear as happy as this.

Perhaps?

"Pray—"

A gun barrel pressed against his face, but he didn't care at all.

He simply finally shifted his gaze, looking at that seemingly stern and solemn face, yet, for some reason, he felt no fear.

He even wanted to laugh.

"Prayer won't work, there's no heaven."

Yu Shu shook his head, telling him in Empire language, "You and I will both end up in Hell."

"—Including your general as well."

Bam!

The furious officer pulled the trigger, among the loud noise, a scream rang out.

But it was not Yu Shu who fell, but the officer.

His arm was shattered, the hand holding the gun fell to the ground amidst a spray of blood.

In terror, he twitched, crawling around, staring blankly at his wrist and hand, shouting something, Yu Shu couldn't understand the native language, but he understood the word 'Ayi Ba'.

Those local patients often used this word to address him, full of gratitude, perhaps it meant 'doctor'.

Unfortunately, there were no doctors anymore.

Facing the suffering, for the first time in his life, he slid his hands into his pockets, feeling refreshed.

Before death approached, he chose to turn back, looking once more at the sea.

But there were no corpses in the sea anymore.

As if everything that had just happened was merely a hallucination.

There was no death either.

The hallucination had abandoned him, moved far away.

In that moment, it dawned.

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