Boarding the Ship

When Lin Qingzhou opened his eyes again, all he saw was pitch black.

The air was thick with a musty smell, mixed with the scent of machine oil and disinfectant.

Beneath him was a hard metal plate that pressed painfully into his back.

He pushed himself up to a sitting position, only to knock his head against something with a dull thud.

Reaching out to feel it, he found a metal rack stacked with several suitcases, their labels stuck on crookedly.

It took him a few seconds to realize what had happened. Zero's teleportation had dumped him into a storage cabin.

The space was packed with passenger luggage, with boxes of all sizes stacked from floor to ceiling, leaving only a narrow aisle in the middle.

A small, circular window high up on the bulkhead let in a few wisps of gray light. The entire space swayed slightly in a rhythmic motion, and the low, continuous hum of an engine drifted in from afar.

He was on a ship.

Lin Qingzhou crawled out from the pile of luggage and pushed open the rusted iron door.

A narrow staircase led upward, the handrail stained with damp water marks. He climbed the stairs, but when he pushed open the second door, he froze.

Before him was the central corridor of a luxury cruise ship. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a warm yellow glow across the polished marble floor.

The walls on both sides of the corridor were covered in dark-patterned wallpaper, with abstract paintings he couldn't understand hung every few paces.

The musty, oily smell in the air was gone, replaced by a faint scent of aromatherapy and the sound of piano music drifting from somewhere unknown.

He subconsciously looked down at himself. He was still wearing the same coarse, short tunic, stained with dust, blood, and scorch marks from the ruins. One sleeve was torn, and his pant leg was worn through at the knee.

With the warhammer strapped to his back and a magazine pouch at his waist, he looked exactly like a refugee freshly dug out of a battlefield.

Compared to the well-dressed people in this corridor, he probably didn't even qualify as a refugee.

Lin Qingzhou's mouth twitched. He quickly pulled a reasonably decent set of clothes from his storage Soul Tool and changed into them.

The piano music drifted down from the second floor, melodic and somewhat nonchalant; the person playing seemed to be in a good mood.

Lin Qingzhou looked up at the ceiling, then down at the floor beneath his feet. The ship had at least four levels; he was currently in the bottom-most cargo hold, used for storing luggage.

Above him should be several levels of passenger cabins, and higher still, likely the dining halls, decks, and observation lounges.

He had never been on a luxury cruise ship back on Blue Star, having only seen pictures online. Now that he was standing in one, every detail of the decor seemed to scream "expensive."

Standing at the foot of the stairs, the first thought in his mind wasn't "this ship is huge," but rather "how much must a ticket for this cost?"

The Federation Currency in his pocket was what remained of the wages he'd saved up from Mang Tian over the past few months, plus some cash he'd scavenged from the Evil Soul Master.

Roughly calculating, he had a few thousand. But he had no idea what the price range for a luxury cruise ticket was. If he didn't have enough money, he couldn't exactly pawn his warhammer to the captain.

There was no point in overthinking it. He headed up the stairs, pushed open the door to the second-floor corridor, and ran straight into a crowd.

The corridor was packed with people. Men in well-tailored suits and women in high heels stood in small groups on either side of the hall, chatting while holding stemmed glasses.

Waiters in white shirts and black vests wove through the crowd, balancing silver trays on one hand. A few young people passing by were using their communicators to take photos of the sea, their laughter audible from halfway down the hall.

Lin Qingzhou stood at the entrance of the corridor; the sense of dissonance was as if someone had thrown a lump of coal into a cream cake.

Yeah, very dissonant.

A waiter nearby noticed him quickly. A young man in his early twenties, wearing a standard professional smile, but the moment he saw Lin Qingzhou, that smile stiffened for a fraction of a second.

His gaze swept from Lin Qingzhou's disheveled face down to the warhammer on his back, his lips moving as if he were debating whether to call security.

"Hello."

Lin Qingzhou spoke first. He tried to make his tone sound calm and natural, as if having a face as battered as a refugee's while standing in a luxury cruise corridor were a perfectly normal thing.

"Sir... is there something you need?" The waiter's professional training won out, though his eyes were filled with the question: How did you get on this ship?

"I'm a passenger who just boarded," Lin Qingzhou lied without changing his expression. "I wanted to ask, are there any rooms left?"

The waiter blinked, staring at Lin Qingzhou for a long moment. The stiff smile had faded, replaced by an undisguised look of scrutiny.

His eyes scanned back and forth between Lin Qingzhou's rather plain clothes and his dirty face, his lips pressed into a thin line as he tilted his chin slightly upward.

"You didn't book a room in advance?" His tone was several degrees colder than before.

"I decided to board at the last minute," Lin Qingzhou said.

The waiter was silent for a few seconds, his eyes holding something unreadable. It wasn't simple contempt; it was more like the subtle hesitation of a rich person about to give charity.

Then he cleared his throat, his tone stiff, every word sounding as if it were being delivered through glass.

"Our rooms are assigned based on tickets. There are indeed a few extra vacancies, but for a supplementary ticket, each room costs two thousand Federation Currency."

Two thousand.

The tension in Lin Qingzhou's chest eased. Two thousand Federation Currency was a steal, considering the decor of this ship.

He had nearly ten thousand in cash on him; two thousand was well within his budget.

It seemed the tickets for this luxury cruise weren't as outrageous as he'd imagined, or perhaps this ship wasn't a top-tier luxury line after all, just one with decor designed to look intimidating.

He didn't show any expression on his face and nodded. "Fine, give me one."

Now it was the waiter's turn to be stunned. He had probably expected Lin Qingzhou to make excuses or just walk away, not expecting the other party to agree so readily.

His eyes lingered on Lin Qingzhou's face for two seconds, his expression softening slightly—no longer so stiff, though still tinged with suspicion. He held out his palm.

"Please present your identification card so I can process your check-in."

Lin Qingzhou pulled his ID card from his pocket and handed it over, then counted out two thousand in Federation Currency.

The attendant took the money, rubbed the bills between his fingertips to confirm they were genuine, and looked up at Lin Qingzhou. The disdain in his gaze faded significantly, replaced by a sense of inexplicable confusion.

A youth dressed in rags and stained with blood, casually pulling out two thousand in cash without even batting an eye—the combination was indeed rather strange.

Yes, in the eyes of this attendant, even the relatively decent set of clothes Lin Qingzhou wore was no different from rags.

However, professional training kept him from asking any questions. He efficiently completed the paperwork, retrieved a room key from behind the counter, and handed it over, his tone regaining a hint of courtesy.

"Your room is on the third floor, 302. The elevator is at the end of the hallway, turn right. Breakfast is in the second-floor dining hall from seven to nine. The swimming pool is on the top deck and requires an additional fee."

Only then did Lin Qingzhou have the time to ask the attendant a few questions. It turned out the main purpose of this ship was to travel from Eastsea City to Southsea City, located on the southern shore of Heaven Fight City.

The destination was acceptable enough, which kept Lin Qingzhou from complaining too much about how unreliable Zero was.

Lin Qingzhou took the room key, offered a word of thanks, and turned to walk toward the elevator. He could feel the attendant's gaze still glued to his back, likely still pondering what kind of background this strange passenger could possibly have.

But he did not look back, nor did he deliberately quicken his pace. Being stared at was something he had long grown accustomed to back in Proud Arrival City, ever since the day he failed to awaken a Martial Soul.

The moment the door to Room 302 opened, Lin Qingzhou stood in the doorway and was genuinely stunned for a moment.

The room was indeed luxurious; the decor could even be described as extravagant.

He had lived in his villa in Proud Arrival City for several years and had never stayed in a room this refined.

Lin Qingzhou tidied up briefly and walked into the bathroom. He wanted a wonderful shower to wash away all the exhaustion from his body.

When the hot water sprayed from the showerhead, he stood beneath the stream, closed his eyes, and remained motionless for a long time.

The hot water trickled down his hair, flowed over the healed wound on his shoulder and the scars under his ribs that had not yet fully faded, and finally swirled into the floor drain mixed with soap suds. Steam slowly filled the entire bathroom, coating the mirror in a layer of white mist.