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Alfalfa was a modern ship that combined both sails and steam technology. It had three decks and could accommodate over a hundred passengers.
A group of people had gathered at the head of the stairs leading to the upper deck.
Among them were the ship's passengers and sailors.
When Seth and Joyce arrived, they saw a man addressing the crowd wearing the standard boat-shaped cap of the era and a thick coat stained with blood. In his hand, he held a brass revolver with a metallic luster.
This was the captain of the Alfalfa, one of the heroes who had saved Seth and the others amidst the chaos.
If it hadn't been for the captain's foresight—quietly collecting a large amount of clean water and food and hoarding them on the lower deck when he noticed the chaos—people like Seth wouldn't have survived, let alone retained their strength.
"Those lunatics are already dying. They've reached their limit without water and food. But we are different, gentlemen. We have enough strength to fight."
"Now, we must charge forward, take control of the Alfalfa, and punish those lunatics! Only then can we hope to see land and return home!"
The captain tipped his hat with his revolver as he spoke, glancing across the crowd. His gaze passed over Seth and Joyce, and he nodded.
"Don't be afraid, everyone."
A gentle but courageous voice sounded, and Seth saw an inconspicuous man with a round, kind face.
He was about the same age as Seth, with an amiable temperament and a hint of shyness. He stood firmly beside the captain and spoke in an encouraging tone.
"We're doing the right thing! You know what these lunatics have been up to these past few days.
"They put bullets and swords in our friends, wives, and even our children!"
"They beheaded those innocent people who were kind, restrained and kept their senses. To this day, their heads are still hanging on the mast!"
"Crazies, criminals, murderers, villains! Tell me, gentlemen, do you have any pity for such people?"
People gasped heavily, their eyes red, growling like beasts: "No, they all deserve to die!"
Seth quite agreed. He felt his blood racing and wished he could rush up and kill those lunatics immediately.
"Tell me, do you want to forgive them?"
"No way!"
"Tell me, what are you going to do?"
Seth followed everyone and blurted out: "Fight, kill these lunatics!"
[Idiot! A bunch of idiots!]
Suddenly, Seth seemed to hear someone talking, retreating from the excitement, and looked around suspiciously.
He saw no one.
But he noticed that the people around him were in a strange state of excitement. Their pupils dilated slightly, their fingers trembled with excitement, their breathing was heavy, and their eyes shone with a frantic light.
They looked like a herd of beasts!
Seth shivered suddenly. He had been just like them moments ago.
Why?
Everyone seemed to have lost their reason. How was this different from those lunatics above?
Wait.
There is extraordinary power in this world. Could it be that some extraordinary factor is influencing their emotions?
Among us, are there extraordinary people?
At this moment, the captain roared in a low voice: "Then what are we waiting for? Follow me, and we will punish those lunatics!"
He took his revolver and was the first to rush up the stairs.
Including Joyce, the men screamed from their throats, their eyes bloodshot, and followed the captain with whatever weapons they could find.
In the crowd, Tris suddenly stopped and looked back.
Sensing his gaze, Seth raised his head and saw that the round-faced boy was equally excited but asked with restraint: "Mr. Seth, aren't you coming with us?"
"How can I not?"
Seth controlled his facial muscles, trying his best to widen his eyes and raise the corners of his mouth, showing a bit of madness.
"I'd love to kill those sons of bitches!"
He rushed past Tris.
He could not afford to be doubted. If an extraordinary person among them had caused this disaster, he had to be more careful. He warned himself in his heart and followed the others.
Before rushing up the stairs, gunshots, roars, and screams could be heard from above.
The battle had already begun.
Seth kept his body low, walking close to the cabin's wall. Using the wooden boxes scattered on the deck as cover, carefully avoiding stray bullets.
After confirming that no one was paying attention, he quietly entered the cabin and found a lantern in the spacious carpeted aisle.
He lit the lantern, and with its dim light, he saw the dark red blood dried on the carpet and walls in the corridor.
He did not participate in the battle but went deeper into the cabin, found a second-class cabin, and got in.
After closing the door, he sat down and put the lantern on the round table.
"This is crazy."
Putting his hand on his forehead.
"Don't panic," he told himself.
"You must carefully consider your countermeasures and prepare for the worst."
The worst-case scenario is that this madness and chaos affecting the whole ship is due to extraordinary factors—a man-made disaster.
[Kill them all!]
[Kill everyone except us, and we'll be safe!]
[We can smash their heads, crush their brains, tear their bodies apart, gut them, and rip their guts out. Hahaha, isn't that a happy thought?]
[So, what are you waiting for? Act now, Li Zexi!]
In the dim light, the corners of Seth's mouth lifted little by little, the light casting mottled shadows on his face. He wiped his hand down from his forehead, and the corners of his mouth returned to normal.
"As a normal person with high education, I will not join the ranks of lunatics, no matter which side it is," he murmured.
However, stopping them is not realistic. I'm just an ordinary person, trying to fight against something that involves extraordinaries would be suicidal.
So, I'll pretend I don't know anything and try to protect myself until I disembark.
Suddenly, Seth was taken aback. A dark red liquid silently flowed in the lantern light at the edge of his vision. He stiffened, raised his head, and saw a slightly ajar wooden door.
Behind the door was a bedroom, and from the crack, dark red plasma slowly oozed out, spreading across the floor, invading the carpet, and reaching toward Seth.
There was a strange sound coming from the bedroom—faint and inhuman.
Looking at the crack in the door, he felt a strong sense of malice emanating from the darkness. He stood up gently, not daring to make any noise. Gripping the revolver tightly, he raised the lantern and stepped back.
Suppressing his curiosity and restraining his impulse, he avoided pushing open the half-hidden door, fearing it might trigger some hidden danger. He exited the room silently and returned to the cabin aisle. Only after closing the door did he breathe a sigh of relief.
But before his tense nerves could relax, someone called softly from the depths of the aisle, "Master Seth, is that you?"
Seth, already on edge, shuddered again. He quickly lifted the lantern, trying to see further. Unfortunately, the light's reach was limited; he could only see someone standing in the dimness ahead.
The person was also holding a lantern, which he casually placed at his feet. The lantern illuminated the ground nearby while hiding his upper body in darkness.
Suddenly, the person lifted the lantern, revealing a darker but familiar face in the light. The corners of his mouth were raised, showing eight teeth in a stiff smile.
"Jack?" Seth blurted out.
It was his valet. On the journey to Enmat Port, his father had arranged for him to be a personal servant to care for his daily needs and a bodyguard for protection. During the internal strife on the ship, the bodyguard sacrificed his life, and the servant was captured by the lunatics. Seth had thought Jack was dead, but here he was.
Only, something seemed very wrong.
"It's me," Jack said, maintaining that stiff, eerie smile.
"Master Seth, please come with me. I know a safe place."
Instead of stepping forward, Seth stepped back.
"I'm not going anywhere, Jack."
"The young master is still as willful as ever," Jack said quickly and anxiously, but his smile didn't change, making Seth's hair stand on end.
"Always refusing advice, always making up his mind, always self-righteous. Don't you know you're annoying? Seth Disraeli, you are a bastard! Scum! Bastard! Scum!
"Since the day you defiled Rachel, do you know how much I've wanted to kill you? No, killing you is too easy! I want to chop you up, feed your flesh to the fish, and throw your bones to the hungry dogs. You deserve to die like that!"
Of course, he knew who Rachel was—the maid harmed by the original Seth. He felt helpless, thinking he would have to clean up the original owner's mess in the future, and he wanted to smile.
Suddenly, Jack raised his other hand, holding a revolver.
Boom!
Jack's head jerked back, his forehead splitting open as the gunfire echoed in the hallway, sending blood and bone fragments flying.
Only when he saw blue smoke rising from the muzzle of his Snakescale revolver did Seth realize he had shot and killed Jack. His body had reacted faster than his brain. Was the original owner's marksmanship this good?
The scum aristocrat finally has something to offer. Seth smiled self-deprecatingly. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a cold white light flickering behind Jack, breaking through the air and pointing at him.
There was someone else behind the servant!