Zhang Haiyan withdrew to the original gap. He took a deep breath and removed his military uniform, leaving only his shorts, which were soaked in blood. The shards of pottery had embedded themselves into his flesh, and it would take time to extract them. He moved a bit, feeling intense pain, but it didn’t hinder his mobility. He believed in He Jianxi’s words; at this point, he thought that although He Jianxi often got into trouble, his luck was truly remarkable. He began to suspect that He Jianxi was a divine protector sent by heaven, who would turn into a wisp of smoke and laugh heartily once the situation was resolved.

If there were a dozen people in this cargo hold, it would at least prove a few things. First, there were more assassins on the ship than he had anticipated. What he had roughly discovered in the scattered seating area and third-class cabin was only part of it. Second, this cargo hold was a trap for counterattacks.

He wasn’t worried about Miss Dong in a one-on-three situation, but no one could possibly handle a dozen opponents at once. Historically, the only person who had won against a dozen was himself. However, Zhang Haixia did not look back fondly on that instance; it had been a series of small wins at the gambling table. While there was a chance, relying on such odds would never provide a second opportunity.

That was why Miss Dong was completely off the radar. She had already stepped into the trap; what she needed now was self-preservation, not pursuit. He certainly had to help Miss Dong; whether he was going to hijack the ship or escape in a lifeboat, he could not let those who killed his colleagues at the Nanyang Archive win. Otherwise, the entire ship could be blown up to cover up evidence of the plague.

But he also didn’t have complete confidence. In fact, he was an unexpected variable in the plans of both the assassin and Miss Dong. Even if he and Miss Dong had a tacit understanding, in this cargo hold, having two against one was of little use.

However, He Jianxi’s presence changed things. If Zhang Haixia were there, he would be able to sense many smells. At that moment, Zhang Haixia would surely have moved slowly with Zhang Haiyan, approaching those emitting scents one by one in the darkness, two against one, taking them out one after another. But He Jianxi lacked that kind of tacit understanding. To be honest, these assassins were quite capable; many found it difficult to adapt to Zhang Haiyan’s method of killing, which often involved timing. In the dark, if a strike missed, it would be hard to kill the opponent instantly.

Moreover, since the other side was a trap, there must be ways for them to coordinate in the dark. If he couldn’t quickly eliminate the opponent, after three or four exchanges, he would be surrounded and killed.

Zhang Haiyan’s mind raced like lightning. Years later, when a person named Wu Xie communicated with him, he would always point out that in various situations, he could use more sophisticated tricks. But Zhang Haiyan’s actions back then were more in line with his own sense of heroism.

Zhang Haiyan decided to give it his all. He counted the blades in his mouth with his tongue and felt his way toward the direction He Jianxi indicated.

Human body hair has the ability to sense nearby objects; the opponent’s body temperature, heartbeat, and breathing could be felt as long as the distance was close enough. Even if consciousness didn’t register it, body hair could still sense it. Zhang Haiyan had taken off his clothes, and amusingly, he used his body hair to perceive the airflow around him.

Soon, he sensed the first assassin in the darkness and immediately threw a blade in that direction.

He exerted all his strength to shoot out the blade, and to his embarrassment, just as he rushed forward, lights suddenly illuminated from four directions. These weren’t the lights of the cargo hold; they were magnesium lights, not the kind used for photography that last for a second, but ones that could remain lit for 20 seconds, used for signaling at sea.

The intense white light nearly blinded Zhang Haiyan, while the assassin across from him had already prepared, keeping his eyes closed. At that moment, he suddenly opened them and saw a naked man rushing toward him. The two engaged in combat instantly, and after three exchanges, the light went out again.

The rapid flashing had nearly left him blind. He didn’t know what was happening, but the light suddenly came on again. Zhang Haiyan realized this was the assassins’ tactic: controlling the flashing lights in the dark space. When the light was on again, Zhang Haiyan couldn’t see, but the assassin could. The assassin quickly circled behind Zhang Haiyan. Zhang Haiyan dodged sharply but collided directly with a cargo box he couldn’t see, sustaining internal injuries, and the box toppled over, spilling its contents.

The light went dark again. Zhang Haiyan’s eyes felt a bit better immediately, and he closed them, looking for a place to run. However, in that moment of confusion, he lost his direction again and crashed into the cargo. The heavy box fell and shattered, and he rolled into the spilled cargo.

When the light turned on again, he squinted and took off his glasses, wiping the lenses with his blood. The light improved significantly. The assassin didn’t pounce immediately; instead, he glanced around and suddenly noticed that the cargo he had knocked over wasn’t cargo at all but human corpses, their faces turning blue, seemingly treated with preservatives.

A familiar smell of disinfectant wafted through the air, the same kind he had smelled on the coral reefs of Panhua. Were they hiding the missing Nanyang agents here?

Zhang Haiyan needed to steady himself, quickly diving into the cargo. Shadows of people were visible everywhere, and he didn’t know how Miss Dong was doing. When the light dimmed again, Zhang Haiyan pushed against the cargo container, trying to make it difficult to walk on the ground, whether he could see or not.

When the light turned on again, Zhang Haiyan had already knocked over a dozen cargo boxes. Not all the boxes contained corpses, but there were still six or seven. This corner of the cargo hold was in disarray. Assassins were rushing toward him from all sides, stepping on the cargo. Zhang Haiyan had adapted to the light; he licked the blade and decided to fight desperately. At that moment, he suddenly saw a corpse in front of him.

He was momentarily stunned; he recognized the face of the corpse—it was Zhang Ruipu’s face. How did he end up on the ship, and why was he dead?

Then he saw another corpse next to Zhang Ruipu. At first, he didn’t react, but then he looked again. His blood ran cold, and his mind buzzed. He shouted out loud, “Zhang Haixia!!!!!!!!!!”