Charles and three others rushed to the cockpit, only to see dark red blood splattered everywhere, leaving the cockpit in utter chaos.

The one who should have been at the helm, Bandage, now lay on the ground like a rag doll savaged by a mad dog, miserably sprawled out. Aside from the many wounds all over his body, his right leg had been severed at the root and was nowhere to be seen.

Charles rushed to the battered Bandage, momentarily at a loss for what to do with his hands. After a two-second pause, Charles tore open the bandages on Bandage's face and placed his fingers under his nose.

Feeling the faintest trace of breath, Charles let out a slight sigh of relief. He quickly drew the black knife from his boot and placed it in Bandage's hand, hoping he could use the knife's healing power to cling to life.

"Anna! Don't just stand there, stop the bleeding, quick!"

Charles's shout snapped the panicked ship's doctor back to her senses. Eyes red, she nodded repeatedly and dashed out the door. "I... I'll go get the hemostatic forceps!"

"Don't give up, man, you'll be fine, just don't give up." The anxious Charles whispered encouragement into Bandage's ear.

A moment later, Anna ran back in, calling out in distress, "Charles, my medical kit is gone!"

Charles stared at Anna for a second, then quickly said, "Go to the captain's cabin, bottom of the cabinet, I have some medicine stored there! Dean, go get everyone here! Hurry!"

After a frantic scramble, the disordered cockpit now had six people standing before the unconscious Bandage.

Everyone's anxious eyes were fixed on Charles, seeking a sense of security. This only made Charles feel even more pressure, but at this moment, it was exactly when a captain was needed—he couldn't lose his composure.

"Anna, did you see what attacked Bandage?"

"No, the ship suddenly lurched and I fell to the ground."

"That thing is still on the ship. It will definitely strike again."

"But Captain, we've searched everywhere and found nothing. Could it be invisible?" Dean asked, frowning.

The monsters of the Undersea are bizarre and varied; invisibility is not even the most extraordinary ability.

"Unlikely. If it could turn invisible, there would be no reason to wait this long."

Charles knew he had to do something—he couldn't let his crew be attacked again. If this went on, the entire Mouse would become a steel coffin, burying everyone inside.

But in such a situation, knowing nothing, what could he do?

After thinking for a while, Charles pursed his lips and spoke: "Full throttle on the main engine, turbo to max. As long as we can get back to the Coral Islands as fast as possible, it doesn't matter if the Mouse is scrapped."

"Dean, take a team and lock all the hatches."

"Frank, move all the food from the kitchen that can be eaten raw to the engine room and the cockpit. Everyone else stays in these two places."

Since they couldn't find it, they might as well stop looking and just huddle together until they reached port.

"What about going to the bathroom?" Anna asked quietly.

Charles tapped the transparent glass in front of him with his finger. "Deck, facing out."

As everyone began to gather in the two designated areas, the atmosphere aboard the Mouse grew even more oppressive.

In the cockpit, Dean was at the helm, Anna was tending to Bandage in the hammock, and Charles, sitting on a stool, continued writing in his journal.

Inside the cabin, there was no sound except for the soft scratching of the pen on paper.

Chapter 12: It's All Fake

"My first mate was attacked by something and is now unconscious. The situation doesn't look good. With all those wounds, it's a miracle he's even alive. I don't know if he'll ever wake up."

Click. Charles capped his fountain pen and slipped it back into his pocket. With a helpless sigh, he flipped through his journal absentmindedly. When he saw the contents of one page, his breathing quickened, and for a moment, he regretted looking at it.

He snapped the journal shut and shook his head with a nervous chuckle.

"See something that made you happy?" Anna asked curiously from across the room.

Charles stared at her for a few seconds, then walked over to Bandage, took the black knife from his hand, and gestured for Anna to come outside.

"Aren't we supposed to stay together for safety? Why are we going out?" Anna asked as she stepped out of the cabin.

Charles cupped her fair face in his hands and kissed her gently. Anna's eyes widened slightly, as if surprised.

When Charles let go, Anna, her cheeks slightly flushed, lightly punched his chest. "What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?"

"Emily, we've been childhood friends since we were little. All these years, have you only ever liked me?" Charles leaned against the ship's wall, his expression calm.

"What are you talking about? Of course. Ever since you handed me that shovel in the kindergarten sandbox, I knew it was you." Anna snuggled up to him affectionately.

Charles gently put his arm around her, gazing into the darkness. "Emily, you’re such a perfect wife—beautiful, refined, loyal."

Smiling, Anna wrapped her arms around Charles's neck. "I love hearing these cheesy lines. Don’t stop, say more."

"Do you still remember which brands of lipstick you have?"

"Why are you asking that? It’s been so long, how could I remember?"