Deep Sea Embers

Belazov had completed his inspection of Dagger Island and overseen the research work, and now it was time for the military representative to leave.

Near the trestle in the bay area of ​​Dagger Island, Professor Myerson, who came to see him off in person, raised his head and looked at the "Haiyan" which was preparing for departure.

The sailors are boarding the ship, the port management personnel are checking the procedures, and the priests in robes and holding incense burners are walking around the cables, shaking the incense in their hands, and praying for the mechanical part of the ship .

Today is a fine day for setting sail.

Standing on the pier, Belazov watched batch after batch of sailors return to the Haiyan, turned to Professor Myerson and said, "Professor, I am very impressed with your research work, but I still need to remind— —The progress of the project on Dagger Island is slow, and some people in the city-state can't sit still."

"The order I received is to understand the various properties of the submersible under the premise of safety, try to decipher its material composition, and try to understand the mechanism of its appearance in the next stage," the old professor said calmly, "Now we It is advancing according to the schedule. If the bigwigs at the government affairs hall really have ideas, they can try to find out the blueprints left by the Frost Queen to make No. 4 or even No. 5 submersibles—send someone directly It is much more convenient than scraping samples every day in the laboratory."

"They won't like your reply—but I'd be happy to convey it to you," General Berazov laughed. "They won't have the guts to make submersibles, and it will make their expressions even more serious." Wonderful."

Professor Myerson shrugged, then fell silent for a moment, and said in a somewhat complicated tone: "Although I'm joking, to be honest, I'm also quite worried about the progress of this matter."

Bellazov didn't speak, but calmly looked at the old professor who had experienced the "queen period".

"Scraping samples day after day and analyzing their physical and chemical properties is certainly an essential part of the formal research process, but you have also seen that what we can analyze from those samples is really limited," the old professor sighed. "Even if we do open that hatch one day, I'm afraid we won't get any more secrets from the submersible—the real secret is not here, General, you know what I mean."

"...below a thousand meters, professor, your thoughts are a little dangerous."

Myerson sighed: "I thought a soldier like you would be more inclined to those dangerous ideas than a scholar like me."

"My duty is to protect the safety of the city-state. This mission makes me more inclined to act cautiously and conservatively," Belazov said lightly. "So, you also intend to restart... those 'diving equipment'?"

"Actually, you want to say 'restart the Abyss Project'?" The old professor smiled and shook his head, "Don't worry, I'm not so reckless, but there is an unavoidable fact here— -The whole thing is under deep water, and a replica of the diving bell in the lab can't solve any puzzles, maybe we should really consider a 'backup plan' - not necessarily active diving , but in case a ninth or even a tenth replica surfaced, we should at least have some means of dealing with it."

"...I will convey your suggestion to the Office of Government Affairs," Belazov pondered for a while, and exhaled softly, "Until a clear order is issued, the project in the secret room will proceed as usual."

The old professor nodded: "Thank you."

Haiyan left.

The steam-powered fast boat splits the gentle waves, leaving a beautiful wake that continues to spread on the boundless sea. The steep and winding coast of Dagger Island slowly recedes in the field of vision, and is gradually hidden in the depths of the common mist in the northern seas. .

Belazov on the deck withdrew his gaze from the island, turned around and walked towards the captain's cabin.

Although Dagger Island is not far from Frost Island, it is still a few hours' flight. During this boring journey, he needs to sort out his thoughts and think about how to report to the city-state managers about No. 3 The submersible thing—and what to say about the advice Professor Myerson gave at the end.

The Abyss Project... This old case half a century ago has left such a profound and terrifying impact that it has gradually become a kind of taboo without thinking, but now that new replicas have begun to emerge from the deep sea, I am afraid it is true We should take a more proactive response.

A sailor was waiting near the captain's cabin, nodding to the general and reporting: "The steam core is operating normally, and we will arrive at Frost No. 1 port in four hours."

Belazov glanced at the somewhat unfamiliar sailor and nodded slightly: "I need to rest for a while, don't bother me if I have nothing to do."

"Yes, General."

Belazov returned to the captain's cabin, sat down at the desk, and heaved a sigh of relief when he heard the low mechanical sound coming from the depths of the floor under his feet.

We'll be back on the island soon.

He collected himself, opened the desk drawer casually, and took out the notes that had been placed in the dark compartment of the drawer in advance.

There was nothing unusual about the trip to Dagger Island, and the return journey went smoothly, but some procedural matters still cannot be omitted. This is an order and a duty.

After opening the notebook, the first sentence above came into view:

"Even if everything is normal, you must confirm your sanity and judgment. Even if there is nothing suspicious around you, you must verify the following content"

Belazov flipped the pages of the book, performing a series of operations extremely skillfully.

The sound of turning the pages of the book kept ringing in the room——

"You are left-handed, confirm this now..."

"Recall a color, then turn to the next page...should be blue or black."

"Keywords, dagger, imagine, and confirm whether the picture in your mind matches the picture on the next page."

"Your name, Belazov, try spelling it in the margin on the next page."

"For this departure, the entourage has been streamlined. There are only 32 people on board—including yourself. If there is an obvious deviation in personnel, roll call will be carried out immediately."

"The deputy brought in this time is Benjamin Yorton, who has a burn scar near his right eye."

Belazov flipped the pages of the book over and over again for simple memory confirmation or subconscious repetition, but suddenly, his movements stopped.

His eyes fell on the last sentence of the note on this page.

"There is a burn scar near the right eye..." Belazov repeated these words silently, and an inexplicable doubt floated in his mind.

right eye?

He slowly closed the notebook, put it back into the secret compartment, stood up calmly, and pushed open the door of the captain's cabin.

"Benjamin!" he called the adjutant's name.

A middle-aged officer quickly opened the door from a nearby room and came to Belazov.

"General?"

Bellazov looked at Benjamin's face.

In the middle of the face is his eye, one and only one.

A vague sense of disobedience was beating in his heart, and Bellazov told himself rationally that there seemed to be something wrong with what he saw, but a hazy curtain seemed to cover his thinking, and he didn't know what went wrong , and feel that everything is reasonable.

This slight deviation in consciousness gradually made the general more and more vigilant. He stared at Benjamin for a long time, trying to find the source of the discord in his heart, until the adjutant's voice came to his ears again: "General? What happened?"

"...Benjamin, how many eyes should a person have?" Bellazov asked suddenly.

The adjutant suddenly froze, as if he had lost his mind before this question. Seeing this situation, Belazov immediately said: "Forget about this question, just ask casually—you go back to the room to rest first, and I will go downstairs have a look."

The adjutant blinked, although he was puzzled, he still nodded: "Yes, General."

The one-eyed human named Benjamin returned to the room, looking normal. Belazov looked at his back, heaved a sigh of relief, then turned around and walked quickly towards the end of the corridor.

He knew that he was still a little reckless just now - he shouldn't ask such a weird question to a person who seemed to be a little bit wrong when he was already suspicious, even if the other person was one of his most trusted adjutants.

But without the inquiry just now, he couldn't confirm whether the weirdness he vaguely noticed really existed.

Now, he confirmed it.

Something is not right on board, something... lurking and dangerous is on board.

He walked quickly through the corridor and came to the sailor's mess.

The canteen was full of sailors, and the soldiers watched the general appearing nervously in astonishment.

Belazov glanced at everyone here, then waved to them, and then quickly went to the bridge.

There are people here too.

There are also many people on deck.

The crew of the Haiyan was streamlined this time, and there were only 32 people at the time of departure.

The numbers are wrong, very, very wrong.

However, the "everything is normal" thinking is still jumping in my mind, as if I am fighting against the contradictory facts that have been put on the surface.

Belazov stood on the stairs leading to the mechanical cabin, watching the downward ramp with a calm expression.

The torn consciousness is fighting, but he no longer needs to care about the detailed differences between the two consciousnesses.

There are still more than two hours before arriving at Frost Island.

The ship is sailing straight towards the city-state.

He took a light breath, and walked towards the deepest machinery compartment of the ship.