When the white-haired man in black saw the two identical daggers, he was visibly surprised. It seemed he recognized the origin of these daggers. What puzzled him was how these two blades ended up in the hands of Sun Fatty and me. For a moment, things came to a standstill. The white-haired man didn't make a move toward us, and Sun Fatty and I didn't dare approach him either.
Roughly two minutes passed in this stalemate when we heard footsteps behind the white-haired man. A figure emerged and stood beside him. The figure was completely shrouded in darkness, making it impossible to see his face. But from the silhouette, we could vaguely tell he was missing an arm—only one remained.
The figure leaned in and whispered a few words to the white-haired man. Unfortunately, they spoke too softly for us to catch anything. After listening, the white-haired man gave a slight nod, then, without another glance at us, turned and disappeared into the darkness.
Sun Fatty shouted in the direction he vanished, "Don't go! Give us back our rat!"
I had to hand it to Sun Fatty—asking for the Wealth Rat back was one thing, but yelling "don't go" at that guy took some guts.
Just as Sun Fatty finished yelling, something small and furry darted out of the darkness toward us. To our shock, the white-haired man actually returned the Wealth Rat. It scampered right up Sun Fatty's pants leg and climbed onto his shoulder. But the moment it touched his pants, Sun Fatty's face contorted and he let out a string of pained "ow ow ow!"
He was standing right beside me, and the arrow shaft sticking out of his backside was still dripping blood. The pain had him soaked in cold sweat, and he kept hissing through clenched teeth. He tried, again and again, to reach around and pull out the crossbow bolt, but every time his fingers brushed the shaft, his whole body twitched in pain.
He couldn't bring himself to do it. So I helped him out.
As he hesitated for the umpteenth time, hand hovering near the shaft, I suddenly reached out, grabbed the bolt, and yanked it out before he could react.
"AAARGHH—!" Sun Fatty leapt over a meter into the air, clutching his butt. What came out of his throat wasn't even human anymore. He gasped, "Lazi… you couldn't have warned me first? Given me a second to prepare?"
Handing the bloodied bolt back to him, I said, "Come on. If I warned you, would you even let me do it?"
Now that the arrow was out, the pain was clearly less intense. But the wound was still gushing blood. Though it was just his butt, it bled like an artery had been hit.
I was just about to look for something clean to use as a bandage when the Wealth Rat squeaked a few times and leapt from Sun Fatty's shoulder to his coat pocket. It rummaged around for a moment, then emerged with a small shard of Dragon Gallbladder clenched in its teeth.
Then, in a move that was utterly mind-blowing, the Wealth Rat climbed onto Sun Fatty's lower back, wrapped its tail around his waistband, and dangled itself upside down. With its front paws, it pressed the shard of Dragon Gallbladder directly onto the wound on Sun Fatty's backside.
The moment the shard touched the wound, the bleeding slowed. A few seconds later, the bleeding stopped entirely—and more than that, the wound began to close, visibly, right before our eyes.
I was transfixed by the whole process. I'd heard Hao Wenming mention that this thing—whether it was called Dragon Gallbladder or Ghost Soul—was some kind of miraculous stone shard that could even bring the dead back to life. I wasn't sure about the resurrection part, but at the very least, this thing could absolutely stop bleeding and accelerate healing. That much, I'd seen with my own eyes.
Sun Fatty was twisting his neck, trying to look at his own butt, but couldn't see anything. "Lazi, can you tell me what the rat is doing back there? Why does the wound feel so cold all of a sudden?"
"He's giving you battlefield surgery," I replied.
Once he heard my explanation of what the Wealth Rat had done, Sun Fatty's eyes widened in disbelief. He gave his backside a little wiggle and realized the pain was gone.
By then, the wound had already scabbed over with a dark red crust. The Wealth Rat retrieved the shard of Dragon Gallbladder, licked off the blood, then hopped back onto Sun Fatty's shoulder. Once there, it spat the shard into his hand and began nuzzling its head back and forth in his palm like it was trying to curry favor.
Sun Fatty grinned from ear to ear. "If you weren't a rat, I'd swear brotherhood with you right now…"
Honestly, I had no idea what kind of good karma Sun Fatty accumulated in a past life to end up with a creature like this. Even Xiao Heshang was envious. And I had to admit—I was starting to get jealous too.
After carefully putting both the Dragon Gallbladder and the Wealth Rat back into his pocket, Sun Fatty turned to me and asked, "So, what now, Lazi?"
"What else?" I took my eyes off the pocket that held the rat and said, "We head back up and ask Hao Tou and Xiao Heshang what they think. But I'm guessing they're just waiting for Director Gao's backup to arrive. All the Bureau's phones are GPS-tracked. With coordinates, they'll be able to find us fast."
"Back up there, huh…" Sun Fatty's ears twitched. He looked up at the hole in the ceiling and muttered, "Lazi, not to be paranoid, but… doesn't it seem a little too quiet up there?"
Sun Fatty's warning brought me back to my senses—I suddenly felt something was indeed off on the deck above. Though I'd just yelled at them not to come down, based on the personalities of those three, they should've already sensed that something was wrong below. But now the deck above was eerily silent, and that unsettling feeling in my gut was growing stronger.
I pulled out the crossbow Sun Fatty had given me and quickly reattached the string, then loaded a bolt. He handed me the rest of the bolts he had gathered—around a dozen or so.
We didn't take the hatch this time. After a quick discussion, Sun Fatty gave me a boost. I reached up and grabbed the edge of the wooden opening above. It wasn't very high, but I wasn't sure if the planks would bear my weight.
I clamped the crossbow in my mouth and tested the strength of the wood with both hands. Sensing it was secure, I pulled myself up—upper body first—and quickly glanced left and right as soon as my head was above the floor.
The deck was empty. There was no sign of Hao Wenming and the others.
Without wasting a second, I swung my body up and climbed back onto the deck.
It was still shrouded in that faint mist. I held the crossbow and spun around slowly in a full circle, but there was no trace of the three. Just as I was about to call out, I heard Sun Fatty shout from below, "Lazi, see them up there?"
"They're not here! Dasheng, come on up!"
He hesitated for a moment, then called back, "Lazi, meet me at the hatch." A second later, I heard hurried footsteps from below, and moments later, Sun Fatty came running out of the hatch.
Looking at the deserted deck, he paced back and forth several times before turning to me, "Where are they?"
I frowned and replied, "It was like this when I came up. Let's look around. Maybe they found another way down and went to check it out."
Truthfully, I was just trying to comfort myself. On a ghost ship, people going missing could have a thousand different explanations.
We called out as we searched the entire deck but found no trace of Hao Wenming and the others. Eventually, near the spot where Sun Fatty had earlier chopped off a dried hand, we noticed something strange. There had been a large hole there, made when Sun Fatty sat down hard. But now, the deck at that very spot was completely intact—not a single broken plank in sight. Even the blood stains from the severed hand were gone.
Sun Fatty and I exchanged glances. The look on his face had turned serious. He tilted his head and thought for a while, then said, "Lazi, did you hear anything strange while you were below?"
"No, I was too focused on that white-haired guy. I was wondering why Hao Wenming and the others were being so obedient—they really didn't come down after I told them not to."
Noticing Sun Fatty's odd expression, I asked, "Dasheng, what are you getting at?"
He sighed and looked at me. "I heard something…"
My heart skipped a beat. "What did you hear?"
"I thought you heard it too," he muttered. Then he continued, "While that white-haired guy was talking to you, I heard Hao Wenming shout from above: 'Po Jun, go!' I thought they were about to storm down. I figured I could take advantage of the moment and shot an arrow at the white-haired guy. But after that shout, nothing happened—dead silence."
Hao Wenming told Po Jun to act? I tried to recall the sequence of events. The last to speak from above had been Po Jun, asking about Sun Fatty's whereabouts. After that, I didn't hear anything else from the deck. I went over the memory again and again, but I was sure—I didn't hear Hao Wenming shout anything.
"Dasheng, you sure you didn't mishear? If Hao Wenming really yelled that, why don't I remember it at all?"
Sun Fatty exhaled heavily and looked straight at me. "Then what about the sound that came from the deck afterward? Don't tell me you didn't hear that either."
"What sound?" I asked blankly. "Dasheng, be clear."
He scratched his head and stared at me. "You really didn't hear it? Right after I got shot in the ass with that arrow, there was this thumping sound on the deck above—like someone hammering posts into the ground. Slow, steady—like construction. I thought they were setting up a formation, so I waited for whatever was coming next. But after a few thumps, it just stopped. Then everything went dead quiet—like a graveyard."
"Like hammering posts…" I repeated the phrase under my breath. Still, nothing came to mind. The only thing that seemed remotely related was the brief shudder I'd felt through the ship at that time. But since we were on the sea, I hadn't thought much of it. Now, linking that moment to what Sun Fatty said, the ship's movement might have been caused by something far more unusual.
Seeing that I was still stuck on that sound, Sun Fatty said slowly, "Not to be that guy, Lazi… but is your Heavenly Eye still working properly?"
I didn't need him to say it—I'd already been thinking something was off. Earlier, when the shriveled hand almost pulled Sun Fatty through the floor, I hadn't sensed anything beneath us, not even a trace. I should've seen something. And just now, in the hold, I couldn't even see that white-haired guy clearly. The lighting was dim, sure, but my Heavenly Eye should've pierced through all that. Even the weird sounds Sun Fatty heard—I got nothing. Was something blocking my vision?
"Lazi, I'm right, aren't I?" Sun Fatty looked more dejected than me.
I glanced at his face, twisted with worry, then suddenly had a thought. "Dasheng, if my Heavenly Eye is blocked, what about yours? Seems like it's working fine."
He blinked. "Now that you mention it, I think it is. It's never been as sharp as yours, but I have been picking up things lately that you didn't."
"You're not thinking I'm gonna rely on you, are you?" Sun Fatty caught on instantly, his expression full of disbelief. "You know better than anyone in the Bureau—my Heavenly Eye's ranked near the bottom. Don't count on me for that kind of work. My specialty's gambling with luck."
I waved a hand and said, "Come on, Dasheng. No need to be modest now. Just the two of us left—you can show your true strength."
"Only cowards are modest! And only bastards avoid the spotlight!" he yelled. "Do I look like the modest type? Hell no—I'm the poster child for being loud and proud!"
I wasn't in the mood to argue. "Fine, we'll settle your ego later. For now, use that 'specialty' of yours."
"What specialty?" he asked, puzzled. Then his face lit up. "Wait—you mean my luck? Lazi, what are you planning? Come on, spill it first."
Through clenched teeth, I said, "We're going down." Then after a pause, I added, "Hao Wenming and the others should still be somewhere on this ship. No matter what, we have to get them out. Dasheng, my Heavenly Eye's out of commission. That means you're leading the way."
Sun Fatty didn't argue. Especially when the Wealth Rat in his pocket perked up the moment it heard "going down." It poked its head out and squeaked excitedly at me.
Still, Sun Fatty raised a valid concern. "Lazi, what about that white-haired Wu Rendi lookalike? If he does attack, even the two of us together might not be a match."
I shook my head. "If he'd wanted to, we'd be dead already. I think it has something to do with the short swords we're carrying. Did you notice how his expression changed when he saw them?"
Sun Fatty thought for a moment. "Mine was Wu Rendi's originally. And yours, if I remember right, was passed down from him too."
He paused here, then looked at me, eyes narrowing in realization.
"Could it be that those two old guys—"