Shrouded Seascape-Chapter 1108. Pirates

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Chapter 1108. Pirates

"It should be possible. I... can try, but if birth becomes death and death becomes birth, then the world will be in chaos," Lily said, sounding troubled. She was afraid that her ability would harm the humans in the Subterranean Sea.

Charles looked down at the ground and remarked, "Perhaps compared to the surface world, we're in chaos at the moment. I believe we're just restoring the real timeline to its correct state."

Some knowledge about time rapidly drilled into Charles' brain, drastically reducing the countdown until his ascension to a true god.

However, Charles decided not to throw them away. The knowledge he had just obtained was very important to him, as it was related to his destined future. He had just discovered a way that could allow him to escape with the others.

"Lily, time is not immutable. It is not absolute. It is relative. Different frames of reference will elicit changes to time.

"Your line of thought was a bit too narrow when you said that you'd only take us away. We should think of doing something bigger. Perhaps we might be able to send both the Subterranean Sea and the reason behind the upcoming apocalypse back to the distant past."

***

At the same time, several modified and dilapidated fishing boats took advantage of the silence and the darkness of the Indian Ocean to approach a huge cargo ship in the distance.

"Hey, Hamar! Don't point your gun at your comrades. Damn it, you're lucky you're my nephew; otherwise, I wouldn't have brought you here," said a tanned middle-aged man with his face covered by a black veil. He sounded exasperated.

Hamar shuddered and lowered his trembling hands clutching a gun. Today was his first day on the boat. Being nervous was unavoidable. His comrades cast a gloating look at Hamar.

Hamar stared at the cargo ship in the distance. The cargo ship was so huge that it was like a floating mountain. Then, he looked down at the dilapidated fishing boat beneath him and felt worried.

"Uncle Jerry, is this really okay? I'm a bit scared."

Jerry pressed down on Hamar's head, making him crouch even lower. "Don't be such a coward. You're afraid of something as trivial as this? I thought you wanted to obtain a laptop for your little Isha at home?"

Jerry's words reminded Hamar of the latter's neighbors. As far as he could remember, those people never returned from their endeavors with empty pockets.

Hamar took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm not afraid at all!"

"Great. Anyway, a ship of this size only has a few dozen crew members, and they can't watch over such a large ship spanning hundreds of meters. Hopefully, there are a few more Americans this time. Hehe, Americans are the most valuable."

"Isn't America really strong? Is it really okay for us to take their people hostage?"

"So what? Why would we be afraid of them?! Actually, it doesn't matter which country they're from; we call the shots out here. They don't count for shit!" Jerry exclaimed. An old pirate like Jerry had long figured out the thought process of the leaders of large countries.

They couldn't possibly dispatch the U.S Navy to save just a few Americans, right?

Jerry concluded that such a decision would be incredibly wasteful; the outcome wouldn't even be able to cover the fuel costs of saving a few American citizens.

After all, the ransom was only going to be tens of thousands of dollars, while dispatching the Navy could cost tens of millions or even hundreds of millions.

Even a child would know what decision was the best.

More importantly, people as poor as them and were desperate enough to risk their lives were a dime a dozen in a poor place like Somalia. Even if one were to kill a batch of them, another batch would quickly reappear.

In other words, killing them was a meaningless endeavor.

Therefore, most countries would obediently pay the ransom, and that was it...

And just like that, these modern pirates would make a killing.

The cargo ship was slow, and the fishing boats quickly pulled up to its side.

"Don't just stand there! Hurry up and move! Throw the grappling hooks! This ship doesn't have any water cannons! It's a fat piece of meat! Perhaps we might even find some women for you to have some fun with!"

With a swoosh, several ropes flew out and wrapped around the railings.

Hamar followed his uncle Jerry and climbed up.

Soon, more than ten people finally reached the deck, but the ship had no lights. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

Even the bridge was dark.

Hamar swallowed hard and remarked, "Uncle Jerry, something feels wrong."

"What's wrong? You think this ship is an aircraft carrier or something? The crew of ships like this are just folks working for a wage. They're also very timid. Threaten them with a gun and they might even piss themselves!" Jerry replied. Raising the chipped, semi-automatic gun in his hand, he slowly made his way into the cabin.

The others stayed silent and carefully followed after their leader.

There were lights in the cabin, but there weren't any people.

Leaving two people at the door just in case, the others conducted a sweep, searching the rooms one by one with their guns in hand. They meticulously looked for anyone, especially Americans, who were definitely hiding at the moment.

Every single room was opened one by one.

Just then, Hamar stopped. He turned to his uncle and signaled that there were voices within the room ahead of him.

Everyone carefully pressed their ears against the door. The voices in the room were getting louder and louder; it sounded like they were chanting something in an unknown language without any consonants.

The other party seemed to be chanting some kind of hymn in this language. The eerie tone made them feel very spine-chilling when they heard it.

"Iä! Iä! futar! Ugh! Ugh! Iä futua cf' ayak 'vulgtmm, vugtlagln vulgtmm! Ai! Shub-Nigath!..."

"Don't be scared. Our prophet will protect us. There has only ever been one true god," Jerry said. He then took the lead and charged over with his gun.

He kicked the door open and was instantly struck by a wave of rust. The smell of blood pervading the room was so thick that it seemed tangible.

It was absolutely fetid.

However, what was unfolding within the room stupefied Jerry more than the smell of blood. He froze instantly upon clapping his eyes on what was going on.

There, beneath the dim candlelights, was a group of people clad in black robes. They were kneeling while devoutly chanting an incomprehensible prayer toward a mural of a giant flesh tree.

Jerry trembled, realizing that he was in big trouble. He had no idea what exactly was going on, but he knew one thing for sure—he was in big trouble.

The chanting abruptly stopped, and the group of people in black robes turned toward Jerry at the same time. Jerry finally discovered that all of them were wearing gas masks.

The next second, everyone, including Jerry, went limp, feeling utterly devoid of strength. The colorless and odorless anesthetic gas had engulfed Jerry and his group at some point in time.

The terrified Hamar had just turned around to run away, but he only managed to take two steps forward before collapsing to the ground along with his other companions.

He couldn't move or speak, but he could see.

And the fact that he could still see made the experience even more terrifying for Hamar.

The people clad in black robes walked over, and like picking up dead pigs, they dragged them into the room filled with the thick smell of blood.

Unable to move, Hamar could only watch helplessly as his uncle was dismembered alive with a golden dagger.

They arranged his uncle's bones, skin, and flesh into a concentric circle with some strange patterns in between. Then, Hamar came face to face with his own fate. He was thrown into the embrace of his dismembered uncle.

The chanting started again.

Soon, murmurs that plunged those hearing them into a frenzy reverberated throughout the room. The murmurs and the chanting of the people in black robes seemed to be resonating—resonating with something in the ocean.

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