Go!
Before the one-eyed deep one could start to suspect anything, Lynch decisively stepped over the gunwale and onto the small boat.
A gentleman does not take too long to exact revenge.
No, a gentleman should not wait past the night; if someone slaps you, you should slap them back as soon as possible, preferably twice as hard.
This was Lynch's style, and he was willing to take some risks for it.
Even if these people knew Walker, they couldn't be very familiar with him. As long as he was careful, there was a high chance of fooling them.
Besides, if it were someone else, they would certainly be terrified to sail deep into an enemy lair, but Lynch had Call of the Water on his side. His mobility in the water was no less than that of a deep one, and with his lurking ability, he didn't panic at all.
...
Perhaps he was still a little panicked, a lot panicked, but he had already come this far; he couldn't just give up now.
All in.
He surreptitiously tapped his telepathic conch to bid a temporary farewell to Miss Valente. Although the target wasn't too far away, he estimated it would exceed the conch's two-kilometer communication range, so from now on, he was on his own.
He had six bottles of flame oil left, enough to create a small to medium-sized fire, and six rounds of each type of special bullet, so he wouldn't be afraid if he encountered enemies immune to physical attacks. Since it was past midnight on June 12th, the start of a new day, his necklace of phase defense had successfully reset, giving him another three seconds of invincibility.
Added to that were a few bottles of red potion said to stop bleeding and pain when poured on wounds, a few satiety capsules he had taken once before, three cigarettes of soul-returning grass, and a torch of light acting as a flashlight. Lynch suddenly realized that ever since he woke up, his supply of such miscellaneous items had never run dry, and they were only increasing.
Wasn't it supposed to be about maintaining a man's dignity and refusing to be a kept man at all costs?
Could it be that these things only have a zero and an infinite number of occurrences?
A tapping sound came from the conch, as gentle as Miss Valente's diligent reminders. For some reason, Lynch suddenly felt a sense of relief, just like when he saw Officer Angel blocking the way in front of him.
Huh? Am I being a bit shameless?
【Well, you noticed that too?】
‘You don't have to answer, really.’
【Because, I have always been here.】
‘I...’
Lynch was almost choked by his own goddess. He rolled his eyes and withdrew his thoughts. The small boat beneath him had left the shore and sailed into the vast, dark sea.
Although it was a rowboat, it was quite fast. The port receded at a speed visible to the naked eye, and soon only a patch of lights remained, illuminating the dark night sky and the sea surface under the reflection of the crimson and silver moonlight.
"John straightened mother's head, George pieced together mother's bones, William stitched mother's flesh, Peter stuffed mother's organs, only little Jack, he stole and ate mother's liver~~~"
On the dark sea, the one-eyed deep one's eerie singing echoed, chilling the soul in the vast ocean. Lynch, however, paid no attention, standing quietly on the small boat while leaning on his cane.
Saying more leads to more mistakes; avoid exposure.
As he sang, the deep one suddenly let out a strange laugh: "Walker, Walker, the slave owner Davis was very angry about what happened last time. Just wait to be torn into pieces by him, hehehe."
Last time? What happened?
He would definitely mention it later, so he might as well probe for information first.
Lynch immediately put on an act and used his tactics, saying vaguely: "What happened last time has nothing to do with me."
"Nothing to do with it? Such a massive operation, and you didn't even notify us in advance, letting that detective run wild, almost getting Davis killed at the port. Your city government must have gained plenty of benefits from top to bottom afterwards. And now you say it has nothing to do with you? Hehe, do you think Davis will ever believe you again?"
Hiss, you might as well just say my name. So, did the past me cause trouble for the future me?
Lynch intentionally snorted coldly, puffing out his chest and ignoring the one-eyed deep one. The other party didn't notice anything wrong and kept muttering to himself, occasionally humming that eerie tune.
After rowing for about another fifteen minutes, the lights behind them grew further away, while a huge shadow vaguely appeared on the sea ahead. As the boat approached, Lynch discovered it was a large ship.
The pitch-black wooden hull, two or three stories high and dozens of meters long, loomed overhead like a small mountain. The sails on the deck were already down, leaving only the forest of masts pointing toward the night sky.
The steam engine at the stern was already extinguished, but thin black smoke still rose from the thick, long chimney. The strong smell of coal smoke could be clearly smelled from dozens of meters away, even more pungent than what he had smelled at Chairman Grant's factory.
On the open sea, the massive hull loomed like a mountain, full of pressure. No light emanated from the ship, and it was silent, as if the entire vessel were dead, appearing quite eerie.
Silence; only the sound of rowing echoed repeatedly in the darkness.
"Glug, glug."
Nothing could be seen in the darkness, only a strange bubbling sound suddenly arose. Although small, it was particularly distinct on the silent sea.
The sound went from small to large, from far to near, getting clearer and clearer.
Lynch stood tall and still, his expression calm, but his pupils had constricted and his fingers gripped his cane tightly.
Just as his fingers tightened completely, the bubbling sound stopped abruptly, and even the sound of the rowing water ceased. The black ship, the black sea, the black night; everything around returned to silence.
Is it over?
The thought had barely flashed through his mind when, in the next moment, with a splash, several huge water columns shot into the sky. Then, several pitch-black, thick tentacles covered in suckers broke through the water, dancing wildly against the night sky beside the black ship.
Damn it. If it were the night I first transmigrated, I would have already been scared to tears.
Actually, my legs are a bit weak now, and cold sweat has broken out.
"Giggle, giggle, the Ranger officer is scared again. Didn't wet your pants, did you? Hahaha."
Laugh all you want, you idiot. In any case, it's Walker who's losing face, what does that have to do with me, Lynch Levive?
Lynch snorted coldly and turned his head away. He then saw these tentacles climbing up along the hull like vines, going all the way over the gunwale. Two of the tentacles, as if they had eyes, stretched all the way to the side of the small boat.
"Please, the slave owner Davis is here to welcome you personally, Officer Walker." The one-eyed deep one stopped laughing and pointed at the approaching tentacles with a malicious face.
He just said 'again,' which means I have been on this ship before, and I also used this method. Although it seems dangerous, as long as I don't expose my identity, I shouldn't be attacked.
Quickly clearing his thoughts, Lynch gritted his teeth and stepped onto the tentacle.
The tentacle was quite thick, no narrower than the boat he had been riding, covered in uneven suckers, and the surface was covered in translucent mucus, which was quite visually striking.
Lynch endured the nausea, holding onto the tentacle with his hand to maintain his balance, thinking about throwing away his gloves as soon as he got home, while being lifted onto the deck by the tentacle.
Once on deck, a chill crept into his heart.
Twenty or thirty people stood in shadows on the silent deck.
These people looked like humans, dressed in ragged sailor clothes, standing motionless on the deck, staring silently at Lynch who had just been lifted up.
The same posture, the same expression, the same lack of emotion in their eyes; they looked like a group of puppets without souls, appearing incredibly eerie in the darkness.
This must be the parasitic control that the slave owner Davis is known for.
Looking at the deck behind them, many tentacles were already winding and crawling, leaving behind trails of disgusting mucus. On a mast further away, although no flags were hanging, a few long-dried corpses were suspended. A few seabirds perched on top of the corpses, staring at Lynch as he boarded with eerie eyes.
Looking at such a strange ship, Lynch immediately associated it with a pirate ship.
These people were likely the true alien pirates, and the one who was actually colluding with the pirates, colluding with Davis—a fugitive wanted by the Lande authorities and recognized as such by the twelve major gods churches and the seven great kingdoms—was actually one of the official powers of Rhine City.
Lynch felt he had touched upon a very dark side, and he didn't know if this world was originally this dark. However, his brain was still spinning rapidly. Those puppet-like sailors suddenly moved and surrounded Lynch.
His hand was already touching his pistol, but Lynch didn't act rashly, quietly waiting for the sailors' actions.
Soon, they lined up on the deck in two rows, forming a passage that revealed the hatch leading to the cabin. And every sailor's eyes were staring straight at Lynch, which was hair-raising.
Just then, a low piano melody sounded from within the cabin, entering Lynch's ears like an invitation.
Rate on N.U.
