parentshiftbook Chapter 660 The Attack on the Ghost Ship
Chapter 660 The Attack on the Ghost Ship
Inside the underground "illegal clinic" of the used bookstore.
Jieming stood in front of his work, with twelve sealed metal test tubes neatly stacked before him.
The liquid inside the test tubes was a deep amber color, shimmering slightly under the light, like some kind of highly purified essence. Each test tube was labeled with a number, a date, and a rune mark designed by Jamin himself.
That was his "signature," indicating that he had improved the batch of medicine.
Harding stood opposite the workstation, hands behind his back, his gaze sweeping over the test tubes, his expression calm, but a hint of barely perceptible satisfaction flickered in his eyes. Dirk stood slightly behind, holding a portable testing device, sampling one of the tubes. The device's screen displayed a green data stream; all indicators were within safe limits and significantly higher than similar products on the market. "Twelve tubes, all optimized according to your requirements," Jemin said, placing the tubes one by one into a specially designed metal transport case, sealing it, and pushing it towards Harding. "The success rate is slightly higher than the last batch, about six percent higher. Furthermore, the side effects of failure have been reduced, concentrating on fever and drowsiness within the first twenty-four hours after injection; no signs of organ damage have been observed."
"Impressive, your skill level far exceeds our expectations."
Harding nodded, took a flat metal box from inside his uniform, and pushed it in front of Jemin.
The box was slightly larger than the palm of his hand, and there were no markings on its surface, but Jemin immediately sensed a faint energy fluctuation emanating from within. "There's less material this time," Harding said apologetically. "The prophet sent from headquarters will arrive in a couple of days. The association's current focus is entirely on internal investigations and responding to potential contingencies. Most of the resources have been allocated to support those key areas, and the quota available for collaborative researchers has been significantly reduced."
Jemin opened the box, inside which were several strange fragments neatly encased in resin, and a sealed container wrapped in velvet. His all-seeing eye wasn't activated, but by touch alone, he could roughly determine the grade and quality of these materials. Two hazardous fragments, five dangerous fragments, and in the sealed container… a complete dangerous-grade strange creature. Although the quantity was less than the previous two times, the quality was still high.
Especially that complete, dangerous-level monster, which is a rare commodity with a price but no market on the black market.
It's safe to say that as an official organization, even in times of scarcity, their supply far exceeds that of the so-called underground black market.
"I understand." Jemin closed the box, placed it beside his work, and said calmly, "At times like these, the association's resources must prioritize internal operations. I can wait."
Harding looked at his expression, a hint of scrutiny in his eyes.
He had seen too many collaborators who would complain, haggle, or threaten to terminate the partnership when resources were cut. But Jemin didn't say anything extra; he simply accepted it calmly and continued doing his own thing.
This attitude either stems from genuine indifference or from having sufficient confidence in one's skills.
Harding thinks it's both.
"After this is over," he said, his voice lower than before, as if afraid of being overheard by someone who shouldn't, "the association will reassess the resource allocation for collaborative researchers. At that time, a large number of materials and data can be approved. I will also help you get those internal research files you applied for before."
"Thanks in advance." Jemin's lips curved slightly, revealing a smile.
Dirk put the detector away, turned around, his gaze lingered on Jemin's face for a moment, and then looked away.
His feelings for Jemin were always complicated.
After all, this person's origins are unknown, but his skills are ridiculously high, and being with him always gives Dirk a strange feeling that he has forgotten something.
But Harding trusted him, and the association's legal department had approved the cooperation agreement, so he, as a field agent, had no right to say anything.
"You need to be careful during this time." Harding walked to the top of the stairs, glanced back at Jemin, and said, "If the mole doesn't want to be exposed, he'll definitely cause trouble before the Prophet arrives. We've received intelligence from several areas, and the frequency of various strange events has increased significantly in the past few days. We can't rule out the possibility that someone is deliberately creating chaos to divert the association's attention."
Jemin nodded. "Understood."
Harding and Dirk went up the stairs.
Footsteps echoed a few times in the bookstore on the first floor, followed by the sound of a wooden door being pushed open and then closed.
Standing in the underground "black clinic," Jemin looked down at the metal box containing materials on his workbench and tapped the lid lightly twice with his fingers.
Suddenly, his eyes subtly twitched.
His gaze pierced through the ceiling and landed on the distant sky.
That direction is... the port.
Jemin's mental energy sensed a strong energy fluctuation, indicating that something had "intruded" into the area from the outside. Then, a loud explosion came from afar.
Rumble...
A series of muffled explosions came from the direction of the port. Several kilometers away, the sound traveled through the thick fog and buildings, becoming muffled by the time it reached the old town.
But even in that ambiguity, there was a frequency that instinctively made people uneasy.
Immediately afterwards, Jemin’s keen senses picked up on the faint scream.
It was the sound of a massive mix of individuals, the screams surging in from the direction of the port like waves, one after another, but many were so brief that they were immediately drowned out by some louder sound.
They blend together to create a kind of background noise that makes your scalp crawl.
Harding and Dirk hadn't gone far when they also heard the explosion on the street.
Dirk's communicator exploded the moment the loud bang rang out, a sharp buzzing sound coming from the device on his uniform waistband.
He grabbed the communicator and pressed the answer button.
"The port is under attack! The port is under attack!" The voice on the other end of the communicator was almost shouting.
The background noise was a mix of explosions, shattering glass, and a low rumble, like the sound of a massive object moving. "It's a ghost ship! It's appeared from the sea! It's huge, like a cruise ship! Requesting backup! Repeat, requesting backup!" Harding's expression changed the moment he heard the words "ghost ship."
After all, the ghost ship mystery is one of the most troublesome types of mystery in this dimension.
These eerie beings are rare; they don't remain stationary but move around and actively hunt humans, making them highly aggressive. Moreover, due to the eerie nature of these ghost ships, their appearance is rarely isolated; they are usually manipulated by someone behind the scenes.
"Location!" Harding had already started running towards the port, with Dirk close behind.
"Port No. 3 Pier! It's crashing into the pier building! It's going too fast, ordinary firepower can't hit it at all... Boom!!!" Hearing the explosion from the other end, Harding hung up the communication.
"Watch out, there's a strange attack! Be careful!"
Harding called out to the bookstore behind him, then turned the corner with Dirk and disappeared at the end of the cobblestone street.
Jemin's mental power re-emerged, and his consciousness, like an invisible giant eye, hovered above the harbor, overlooking everything that was happening below.
Pier 3 has descended into complete chaos.
And the ghost ship that suddenly emerged from the thick fog—Jeremy's mental power has now captured its entirety.
It was larger than any cruise ship Jemin had seen before his journey, its black hull emerging from the thick fog like a giant beast rising from the deep sea.
The ship's surface was covered in rust, as if someone had used rust to paint, drawing distorted, screaming faces on its hull. Its movement defied all the laws of physics.
The massive ship, after crashing into the dock, miraculously turned with incredible agility, its bow swaying like a snake, snapping a cargo crane in half.
The broken steel frame collapsed with a roar, crashing onto the dock and kicking up a cloud of rubble and dust.
Then it rushed ashore without hesitation.
The keel at the bottom of the ship dragged across the ground, making a screeching metallic scraping sound, and gravel was crushed into powder beneath the hull.
Although it was clearly a ship, its speed on land did not decrease at all, and it rushed towards the port warehouse area.
And everyone who gets close to it... or rather, everyone who gets close to it will be sucked onto the ship.
Jemin's mental power clearly "saw" that process.
A dockworker was hiding behind a shipping container, at least fifty meters away from the ghost ship.
He only peeked out halfway before his body was grabbed by an invisible hand, his feet lifted off the ground, and he was dragged towards the black cruise ship.
He struggled and screamed in mid-air, his hands frantically clawing at the air.
His screams stopped abruptly the moment he was sucked onto the ship.
The man's vital signs completely disappeared from Jemin's perception, as if he had never existed.
Similar scenes were playing out simultaneously in every corner of the dock.
It's daytime now, the busiest time of year for workers at the port.
Faced with this sudden attack, a large number of victims were sucked away.
Many people tried to escape, but the ghost ship was too fast; it moved faster on land than a car.
Like a giant black bird flying close to the ground, it flew from east to west, from south to north, leaving behind only empty docks and scattered goods in its wake.
Harding and Dirk rushed to an open space on the outskirts of the old neighborhood.
We were still about five kilometers away from the ghost ship, but we could already clearly see the huge black silhouette moving through the thick fog.
Harding stopped, took a deep breath, and pulled his hands out of his pockets.
Eye of the storm.
He no longer suppressed his strange power.
A gust of wind surged from around his body within seconds, spreading outwards from him.
Dirk was pushed back a step by the wind, but quickly regained his balance and grabbed Hardin's shoulders with both hands.
The storm swept them both up from the ground and carried them at great speed toward the ghost ship.
The distance of several kilometers was shortened to tens of seconds by the force of the storm.
Jemin's mental energy always followed them.
He saw Harding constantly adjusting the angle and intensity of the storm during his flight so that he would be in the optimal attack position when he reached the ghost ship. This man's combat experience was indeed extensive, and his control over the eye of the storm far exceeded the level he had demonstrated in the abandoned factory.
Inside the harbor, Harding and the ghost ship collide head-on.
The eye of the storm opened in an instant.
Dark clouds surged from Hardin's body, instantly covering an area hundreds of meters above the ghost ship.
Lightning churned in the dark clouds and then poured down like a torrential rain, each bolt striking the ghost ship's deck with pinpoint accuracy.
The surface of the ghost ship cracked from the lightning strikes.
The rusty metal plates were blown open, revealing the inner walls underneath that seemed to writhe like living things.
After failing to capture the two inside its body, the ghost ship emitted a burst of energy that spread outward from inside the ship.
The shockwave pushed aside the surrounding air, creating a brief vacuum, within which Harding's storm experienced momentary turbulence.
Dirk released his grip on his shoulder, and the Shadow Serpent's threads shot from his palm, wrapping around a broken mast of the ghost ship.
The silk thread begins to corrode the moment it touches the mast, black lines spreading downwards along the mast, leaving fine cracks on the metal surface wherever it passes.
The ghost ship reacted quickly.
Its hull suddenly swung, flinging the mast and Dirk's silk thread away.
Dirk tumbled through the air a few times before being caught by Harding's storm.
The two sides only exchanged blows for a few moments, and most of the buildings near Pier 3 were already destroyed.
The warehouse collapsed, the crane broke, and the containers were scattered everywhere like building blocks.
Further away, at the edge of the dock, in an inconspicuous shadow, a man was crouching behind a shipping container.
His clothes were very ordinary, and his hat brim was pulled low, obscuring his face.
The man's breathing was rapid, as if he had exhausted himself.
To outsiders, he looked like an ordinary person who had just escaped from the chaos, but his eyes were not looking in the direction of the ghost ship, but in another direction.
That's the direction the Psychics Association is heading.
Jemin's mental power instantly grasped the man.
The man spat, and his spittle landed on the gravel on the ground, where it was quickly covered by dust.
He reached behind his ear and pressed a small communicator, then whispered something.
"The Psychic Association arrived faster than expected. The eye of the storm has already engaged the ghost ship. I'm on the east side of Pier 3, and my position is temporarily safe. Requesting backup."
There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the communicator, then a deep voice came through:
"...The retreat...has been completed."
The man said nothing more, turned off his communicator, and silently slid out from behind the container, moving along the wall in a direction away from the battlefield. His movements were light and quick, and he always remained in the shadows cast by the buildings, never stepping into the light.
Jemin's mental energy followed him, watching him cross three streets, climb over a wall, and get into the back seat of a black sedan parked in the shadows.
The car started silently and disappeared at the edge of the harbor.