Six hours had passed, and the ship showed no signs of stopping. They had even made several stops along the coast for resupply, and once encountered a storm. If it weren't for Arthur's special abilities, allowing him to navigate away from the storm using information from the fish schools, this new ship would have been badly damaged long ago.
This fishing boat was not originally designed for deep-sea journeys; it was ant for fishing in the nearby and mid-sea regions. Traveling all the way from the California coast to xico was putting a significant strain on the vessel.
Finally, after about seven and a half hours, the ship ca to a halt. Schiller's complexion had turned sowhat pale. Leaning on the railings, he looked at Arthur and asked, "Have we really arrived?"
"We've reached the nearby group of islands," Arthur replied. "But we need to figure out which specific island it is. If you're feeling uncomfortable, you can rest inside. I'll go for a swim and find out."
Schiller nodded in agreent. Firstly, he couldn't swim, and secondly, even if he could, he didn't have the energy to swim now.
Grey Mist had ntioned that his seasickness was a psychological reaction. Grey Mist could forcibly control his stomach muscles to prevent spasms, but the discomfort would still manifest elsewhere, such as chest tightness and cold sweats. Even if Grey Mist could alleviate these symptoms, Schiller's mind would continue to tell him that he was feeling uncomfortable. So, he decided it was best to stay on the ship.
Superego had advised him to take a vacation, forbidding him from entering the Temple of Thought. In other words, seeking blessings from dream gods or even calling Lucifer Morningstar over wouldn't work. Death wouldn't even take him if he decided to jump into the sea to drown himself.
Schiller entered the only guest room on the ship. This room was probably intended for temporary rest for the crew mbers. However, it had a decent sofa bed, and he lay down on it, drifting into a drowsy state.
But soon, he was awakened by a commotion. He heard so strange-sounding Spanish, along with a few gunshots.
Schiller sat up abruptly, feeling the bed shake. It was evident that soone had boarded the ship. He stood up, holding his Umbrella at the door.
The people outside were speaking in Spanish, and Schiller could only understand a few words. They seed to be talking about the ship being new and in good condition.
Suddenly, a series of footsteps approached the door. The door slamd open, and a person carrying a rifle entered, muttering profanities in Spanish.
But as soon as he stepped into the room, a knife pierced his chest. Schiller retracted his Umbrella and looked at the person who had fallen to the ground with a furrowed brow.
Judging by the appearance of the Masked Bandits, they resembled xicans and possibly Caribbean Sea pirates. However, Schiller quickly identified them when he heard the people outside shouting the na of a drug; these were xican drug traffickers.
From their tone, it seed like they intended to take the ship back for drug transportation. Judging by the footsteps, they had likely entered the cockpit already. Schiller blinked to the end of the corridor, and one of the traffickers, seeing Schiller's figure, instinctively aid his gun and opened fire.
Now, Schiller was certain that these ruthless individuals were drug traffickers, as pirates usually kidnapped and demanded ransom. Drug traffickers, on the other hand, preferred to eliminate all witnesses on the spot.
Bullets couldn't penetrate Jormungandr's snake skin. Schiller opened his Umbrella to shield himself from the gunfire. After dispatching about five or six traffickers with swift knife strikes, he finally reached the cockpit.
Inside the cockpit, there were three more people. When they saw Schiller, they started babbling rapidly in Spanish. However, when Schiller killed the first person, the remaining two didn't imdiately shoot at him. Instead, they fired at the control panel in the cockpit.
After dealing with the remaining two traffickers, Schiller heard them cursing him before their deaths. Combined with their previous destruction of the cockpit, Schiller deduced that these traffickers might have mistaken him for an accomplice and wanted to sabotage his ship, preventing him from conducting business.
In this region, only this group of people would be so ruthless, and there might even be a U.S. Agent among them, deliberately trying to stir up conflicts.
Judging by their attire, Schiller guessed that this was a group of low-level lackeys from a drug trafficking organization who had stumbled upon this fishing boat and wanted to take credit for it.
Because their equipnt was not top-notch, they didn't have much valuable on them, and their combat skills were lacking. A few blinks and knife strikes took care of them. If they were well-trained ard drug traffickers, it wouldn't have been so easy.
The drug trafficking industry in South Arica was rampant, and it would have been impossible without so degree of tolerance from the U.S. Those elite drug traffickers had weapons comparable to the U.S. Army infantry. It was needless to say where they got them from.
Despite dealing with these traffickers, Schiller couldn't relax. The cockpit had been heavily damaged by their gunfire, and one of them had even shot the control panel with a shotgun. This small fishing boat wasn't a warship, so even a single shot could disable the controls.
Not long after, Arthur ca across the scattered corpses and the chaotic cockpit. He saw Schiller, who looked pale and weak, wielding an umbrella knife and ensuring that the traffickers were truly dead.
Standing outside the cockpit door, Arthur swallowed hard and muttered under his breath, "Is this the Professor from Gotham University?"
"You're back?" Schiller waved at him. "Co in. Take a look; they've made a ss of this place. Can the ship still be operated?"
Arthur was more concerned about the ship. He stepped over the corpses at the entrance and carefully examined the control panel. "It's going to be challenging. Most of the buttons here are malfunctioning. Let see if I can start it."
After so adjustnts, Arthur said, "No, it's not working. It seems that a particular circuit has been affected. I need to check the engine."
He walked out of the cockpit's door and returned after a while. "The ship hijackers are experienced; they didn't damage the engine, but they did ss with the engine's control system."
"Can you explain it more straightforwardly?" Schiller asked.
"In other words, they've dismantled the circuit for the vehicle's ignition switch, so the engine remains intact but can't be started," Arthur explained.
"Can you fix it?" Schiller inquired.
"I can, but we need materials. I can't conjure up wires out of thin air. Also, I just found the island where that person is stranded, and we need to rescue him," Arthur replied.
"Let's disembark," Schiller firmly turned to exit. "These people will likely catch up soon. We can leave the ship; safety cos first."
Arthur opened his mouth for a mont, gazing at the scattered corpses on the floor, unsure whose safety Schiller was referring to. Nevertheless, he followed Schiller off the ship. Stepping onto land, he cast a regretful look at the vessel.
Schiller's priority, of course, was Arthur's safety. The youthful version of Superman was still growing and didn't possess the peak powers he would have in his pri. Aquaman was even less formidable, even during his peak. This young version might not withstand bullets, to say the least.
Although he could beco nearly invulnerable once he entered the water, it was more likely that if he saw a group of nacing drug traffickers with weapons charging at him, he might beco paralyzed and forget that swimming was his expertise.
As the two stepped onto this island, Schiller scanned the surroundings, finding only coconut trees and seabirds. He asked, "So, how do we get to the island you ntioned?"
"Um... I can swim there..." Arthur began but saw Schiller's unfriendly eye contact and quickly corrected himself. "Never mind, I just spotted so good companions who can take you there."
Ten minutes later, Schiller watched a group of dolphins in the sea. He sighed deeply and turned to Arthur, saying, "Why do you think they can carry ?"
Schiller couldn't precisely identify the species of these dolphins, but their bodies appeared slender, not large in size, and lacked suitable surfaces on their backs for riding.
Dolphins ca in many different species, and perhaps the larger ones could carry people while the ones before them clearly couldn't.
Arthur pondered for a mont and said, "Wait here; let check again."
About half an hour later, Arthur returned, floating in the deeper waters, looking sowhat tired. Schiller shouted, "What happened? Did you swim far?"
"No! It's just that I had to..." Arthur hadn't finished when he was suddenly engulfed in a water spout and a massive black creature floated to the surface. It resembled a giant panda but was a killer whale.
"You can step onto the dolphins' backs first and then ride the killer whale. This fellow is big enough to carry you," Arthur explained.
Arthur swam back, whistling to bring the group of dolphins closer. They erged one by one, forming a staircase of sorts in the water. Schiller glanced around, sighed, and resignedly walked onto the sea surface.
Fortunately, with Grey Mist's control, Schiller had much better balance than most people. Though he didn't step firmly with every stride, and his shoes got wet, he managed to reach the killer whale's back without any mishaps.
The killer whale had a large dorsal fin, nearly 1.7 ters tall. It served as a great handle, and as the killer whale swam, Schiller found it much more stable than being on the ship.
Arthur swam ahead and said, "Finding a calm one wasn't easy. These guys are always mischievous and demand a lot of rewards for carrying passengers."
Holding onto the killer whale's dorsal fin, Schiller found it rather exhilarating. He gazed at the sea and asked, "So, what did you offer to convince it?"
"I had to play with him. Actually, I only communicated with him for about five minutes during that half-hour, the rest of the ti was spent playing with him."
When the killer whale surfaced halfway, it wasn't moving very fast, so Arthur swam ahead of it. He turned back, stopped, and touched the killer whale's head, saying, "This is a good one, just reached adulthood, but it's already quite large. It will grow into a massive one."
"I had heard that there are killer whales in the Gulf of xico, but I didn't expect it would be so easy to find them," Arthur continued swimming while saying, "Killer whales often appear in pairs or as family groups, so a solitary one like this is quite rare."
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Though the journey with one person on the killer whale's back wasn't fast, it didn't take long for them to reach the island Arthur had surveyed earlier.
This ti, without the dolphins to lead the way, Arthur went ashore first. He watched Schiller, still on the killer whale's back, and said, "The killer whale can't co to the shallow shore; it might get stranded."
"Sorry, Professor. You might have to swim this last bit," he added.
Then he saw Schiller disappear from the killer whale's back. The next mont, Schiller appeared next to him, completely dry.
Arthur widened his eyes and muttered to himself, "Is this the Professor from Gotham University?"
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