Locke was a cowboy.
And what skills does a cowboy need to master? Riding horses, cracking a whip, and herding cattle. Anyone who has watched a Western knows that with a flick of a wrist, a cowboy can accurately wrap a lash around a man's neck and drag him over.
So, Locke knowing how to throw a rope was perfectly normal.
As for his physical stamina? He had worked very hard in this life to maintain his physique. With a lean waist, eight-pack abs, and high endurance, was there anything strange about that? Gwen could provide excellent testimony regarding Locke's stamina.
Suddenly, a massive *BOOM* echoed!
The entire hull shuddered once more. A second later, screams and frantic cries drifted up from the space beneath their feet. Clearly, the grand hall—despite the black Captain's assurances of safety—had become a sealed slaughterhouse because of its enclosed nature.
The group stood by the railing, listening to the screams coming from all directions below. Their expressions were complex. If they hadn't moved just now, they would have been among those voices.
Locke believed that even in death, one should hold their fate in their own hands. He chose his own way to go, rather than following someone else's plan for his demise.
"Let's go," Locke said, pulling his gaze away from the rapidly rising seawater. He took the flashlight from Connor and shined it down the inverted corridor to their right. "Through here, we can hit the crew corridors. Use the service elevators there, and we're out."
`Current Mission Multiplier: 85x!`
Locke saw the multiplier jump and raised an eyebrow. Good grief. In the system's eyes, this life-or-death escape counted as "leisure and entertainment"? Powerful. Very powerful. Locke felt a bit caught between laughter and tears.
Cindy and Kahn hugged each other briefly before following Locke. Gwen supported Pepper, whose ankle seemed strained. She watched Locke's back, seemingly comforting Pepper but also convincing herself: "We'll definitely get out."
Pepper nodded, watching the three leading the way. "I believe you."
However, the path to the service elevators was completely blocked. The corridor was engulfed in roaring flames and littered with charred remains. Locke was speechless.
Dylan stood beside him and turned. "Is there another way?"
"Yes," Locke replied.
"Where?"
"Heh." Locke gave Dylan a small smile, then looked at Robert and the others. "Among us, who can't swim?"
Eight-year-old Connor looked around and cautiously raised his hand. "Me?"
Locke looked at him. "Can you hold your breath?"
Connor nodded. "Yeah, I can hold it for a long time."
Locke smiled. "Then there's no problem."
The women looked at each other, confused by the question. But they understood soon enough.
...
"Where are we?" several people asked as they followed Locke into a sealed, tank-like room that looked like a steel coffin.
"A ballast tank," Dylan explained. "It keeps the ship balanced by filling the space with water."
Maggie frowned. "How do we get out then?"
Dylan looked at Locke, who had a faint smile. He realized what Locke was planning. After a moment of silence, he said, "We let the seawater fill this room."
"What?"
"We're going to drown ourselves?"
"No, no, no!"
Robert, panting, pointed to a sealed hatch. "Once this is full of water, the pressure will allow that hatch to open. Then we can swim through to the other side." He looked at Locke. "That's the plan, right?"
Locke nodded.
Maggie hesitated. "Maybe we can find another way."
Locke's expression was flat. "This is the only way left. We're racing against the Reaper. If we delay, we die."
Actually, he had simpler ways. But those would require him to expose his powers. Unless it was a total emergency, Locke refused to use skills that would blow his cover. He wouldn't die, and Gwen wouldn't either. But the others? That was hard to say.
He didn't mind being a hero occasionally, but if being a hero meant exposing a secret that could bring him endless trouble later, he would consider it very carefully.
Again: Locke never considered himself a "good person," nor did he strive to be one. He was just himself—a unique firework!
"Do it!"
"Everyone, stand back."
Robert and Dylan exchanged a look and took a deep breath. Dylan stepped forward and began manipulating the water intake controls. Instantly, seawater began gushing into the tank. The ballast tank was transforming into a drowning chamber.
Locke took off his backpack and quickly poured out several underwater respirators. The women, who had been nervous, stared at the devices in surprise.
Locke handed one to Gwen. Meeting her flashing eyes, he smiled. "Found these on the way here. Pure coincidence."
'Found my ass.' These were from his inventory.
Stark Industries tech: underwater respirators designed three years ago. They used an "artificial gill" concept, filtering oxygen directly from water molecules through micro-holes and an oxygen-enriching device. A battery-powered micro-compressor then stored the oxygen in a tiny tank, allowing the user to swim freely like a fish.
As a professional assassin, Locke had used these to jump off bridges and swim to shore undetected. He was human, not a fish; he couldn't breathe underwater naturally.
"These are the 'lite' versions," Locke warned. "They only last about ten minutes. Use them sparingly."
Pepper Potts, the assistant to the Chairman of Stark Industries, stared at the product her own company made. A thought flashed through her mind: 'When I get back, I'm telling the tech department to upgrade the 'lite' version to thirty minutes... no, at least an hour.'
With gear in hand, the group's panic subsided.
Soon, the ballast tank was completely submerged. They looked like a school of fish, breathing through the devices and watching the hatch.
*BOOM!*
The hatch swung open. Pulled by the current, they surged through the tunnel and washed out into the crew-only area on the other side.
*Splash! Splash! Splash!*
None of them won points for their diving form, but they were alive. Locke floated to the surface and found Gwen. "You okay?"
Gwen shook her head as she treaded water. For some reason, she felt like they weren't in a survival horror scenario anymore, but a high-stakes escape room. Without the respirators, it would have felt like PUBG; with them, it felt like an adventure.
She saw Connor, who couldn't swim, having the time of his life submerged and blowing bubbles. She couldn't help but chuckle. Then she remembered the people drowning in the hall below, and her expression saddened. They made it, but so many others wouldn't.
Locke didn't say anything. He surveyed the area. "The next tunnel is underwater. Follow me closely. It's a bit of a distance, so watch your air."
He put his respirator back on, checked the battery, signaled to Gwen, and dove back down.
Three minutes later, they climbed a ladder and removed their masks, gasping. These "lite" versions didn't have much power.
Pepper looked at the device in her hand. "When I get back, I'm cancelling the 'lite' version and dropping the 'pro' version price to match it."
Everyone laughed.
"Which way now?" Dylan asked, hands on his knees.
Robert looked at Locke. "Yeah, what's next?"
Locke stood up, shining his light upward. He listened to the roaring of machinery nearby. "These are the stairs to the bottom of the hull. We go up, and we'll reach the very bottom of the ship."
The group shared a look of joy. The road to survival was almost at its end.
Soon, because the ship was capsized horizontally, they reached the final layer. But the propellers were still spinning furiously. There was no way through them.
Locke looked at Dylan. "Go to the control room. If you can't find the 'off' switch, reverse the direction and throw something in to jam the blades. Blow them up if you have to."
Locke handed his respirator—now at 30% battery—to Dylan. "Good luck."
Dylan took it, saw Locke's neutral expression, and gave him the middle finger. "If you stopped looking like you're expecting me to die, I might believe you were actually cheering for me."
Locke laughed. "I'll wait for your good news—"
Before he could finish, *Splash!* Dylan performed a "soulful" dive into the water.
***
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