On the deck of Clover, looking at the port terminal in the distance, Joyce exclaimed excitedly,
"The steam is on! We're back! We finally arrived at Smart Harbor."
Sifa, who was standing next to him, was equally excited, though at least on the surface, he managed to remain calm.
It had not been easy to make it this far. They had experienced storms, treks, and various trials at sea before finally arriving at the port safely. Anyone seeing land now would feel the urge to rush forward and kiss the ground.
After the Alfalfa entered the port, before anyone had time to disembark, Sifa saw a team of police officers rushing along the dock. They were wearing black and white uniforms, with hats bearing badges, and they looked nervous.
All of a sudden, the atmosphere on board became tense.
The captain said calmly, "Don't act rashly. Stay in place and let me communicate with the police officers."
Sifa also stood up. "My identity should be useful."
The captain nodded. By this time, the police had already boarded the ship. They worked expertly in groups of three, quickly starting their search. Several teams of officers came to the deck and approached the passengers.
A police officer with a black beard strode forward. "I'm Inspector Roy. What happened on this boat?"
His epaulettes bore three silver six-pointed stars, matching his identity as an inspector.
He continued, "We received news that the Alfalfa was attacked shortly after leaving Caesar Harbor. Someone saw the sign of the 'King of the Five Seas.' But after that, there was no word from you for over a month. What happened on this ship during that time?
"In addition, I've noticed bloodstains that haven't been completely cleaned, traces of bullets and longswords, and — why are there so few of you left on board?"
One question after another landed like cannonballs, bringing back memories of the blood-filled ordeal. A few timid men were already pale, their fingers trembling as they whispered, "It wasn't our fault… it wasn't our fault…"
Inspector Roy's face grew darker and more severe upon hearing those words.
The captain coughed dryly. "Officer, it's like this. After we were plundered by pirates, a terrible disaster occurred on the ship…"
He roughly recounted the infighting and disaster. Roy's heart sank. The Smart Harbor police department had received news of the attack more than half a month ago. Recently, the families of passengers who had yet to return had been coming to the police station for updates. That was why the police rushed over as soon as they heard the Alfalfa had entered port.
As an experienced officer, Roy had prepared for the worst. He hadn't expected the situation to be even more dreadful than imagined.
Footsteps approached, and several police teams came up onto the deck and reported, "Sir, we've found a large number of corpses—sailors and passengers."
Roy nodded solemnly. His gray-blue eyes turned to the captain. "This is very serious. I hope you'll cooperate until we figure out what really happened. Now, I need to take you all in. Please assist with the investigation."
"No!" a short, bearded man suddenly shouted. He rushed toward the gangway. "I didn't commit a crime! I want to go home!"
The captain called out anxiously, "Mr. Sigella, calm down!"
Before he could stop him, two police officers rushed forward, knocked Sigella down with truncheons, and pinned him to the ground.
"Don't do that! Please let him go!" the captain cried as he hurried over, only to be jabbed in the stomach by a baton, leaving him unable to finish his plea.
"Hey! What are you doing?" someone shouted. "Why are you hitting people? We're not criminals!"
The passengers became agitated. Among them, the round-faced young man Tris stood up and protested, "You can't treat us like this!"
But he too received a blow from a police baton. The sight further enraged the passengers, who surged forward to argue with the police.
Inspector Roy pulled out his pistol, aiming it at the crowd. "Stop! All of you, stop right now!"
The police waded in, striking passengers and sailors with their batons and forcing them down onto the deck. Many people were injured in the scuffle.
"Everyone, calm down! Restrain yourselves!" Sifa shouted, hoping to stop the chaos. But in that moment, his voice was completely drowned out.
A policeman rushed at him, trying to grab his collar. Sifa instinctively stepped back, dodging the grasp.
"No resistance!" the brown-eyed policeman yelled, pulling out his pistol and pointing it at Sifa.
Sifa raised his hands. "Officer, I am—"
Before he could finish, a tall policeman tackled him, pressing Sifa's head down with a large palm until his cheek was tight against the deck. Anger, humiliation, shock—these emotions surged in Sifa's heart. He wanted to lift his head, but the force kept him down. He could only see a narrow sliver of the world through one eye.
Fighting to stay composed despite his burning fury, Sifa shouted, "Listen to me, officer! I am the son of Baron Bison Disraeli! Please don't harm me or the others—we will cooperate and assist in the investigation!"
But the police paid no heed. The large officer holding him down barked impatiently, "Shut up! You're the son of a baron? Then I'm the prince! If you've got something to say, save it for the judge. Now get up!"
They hauled Sifa to his feet and shoved a piece of cloth into his mouth. He had no idea which officer's handkerchief it was, but it smelled far from clean.
The commotion on deck was quickly quelled. The passengers and crew, including Sifa, were dragged off to a temporary prison at the Smart Harbor police station.
In the cell, packed with people, Sifa tore the cloth from his mouth and rushed to the door. He shouted, "Officer! Officer! I am Sifa Disraeli! My father is a baron! I want to send a telegram—I can pay!"
A policeman approached and banged the door with his baton. "Get back! No shouting!"
Sifa quickly withdrew his hands and stepped back, dismayed. Things were turning out nothing like he had imagined. If he couldn't contact his family, who knew what would happen next?
Look, I knew these curly baboons wouldn't cooperate with you. What are you going to do now, Li Zexi?
I have an idea. Let's get the pigs in this cell to fight. Once they start brawling, the police will come in to check. We grab one, snap his neck, and rush out with his gun.
We can do it. Let's do it this way, right?
Just like that!
The corners of Sifa's mouth are gradually, slightly, lifted...