The bald young man's yacht set off first.
When there were many people, the decisions they made were often more reckless and foolish. Many people were unwilling to speak up, so the more active ones were able to seize the initiative.
But shortly after the bald young man's yacht started moving, someone suddenly pointed behind them. "They haven't moved. We can't move either."
"Hmph, idiot. They haven't moved because there's only one strong man on their boat, while we have six. Even if they rush ahead and get the supplies, we'll just take them from them," someone else said.
"In that case, we can send two people over to seize their boat and force them to lead the way."
"FUCK, why didn't you say so earlier?" The bald young man had just gone around an iceberg when he heard this and cursed furiously.
"I was too frozen to think of it just now," the man said sheepishly.
"Hmph." The bald young man began backing up.
The sea was full of icy water. Swimming over was absolutely impossible; even winter swimming enthusiasts would have to bow down.
Because yachts could ram into things and move away—they weren't banners on a racetrack.
"They want to steal our boat!" The Red-Faced Strongman saw through the bald young man's intentions at a glance.
He immediately started the yacht, preparing to evade them.
The Drone hovered in midair, watching the show unfold.
As it watched, it offered commentary.
"Hahaha, humans truly are an inferior species. Even at the brink of life and death, they still think about fighting among themselves. Didn't I tell you that you only had half an hour? Five minutes have already passed."
"Hahaha!"
Hearing this, the bald young man stopped backing up and angrily continued forward.
He had actually forgotten that