The captain lowered his telescope, his voice trembling slightly.
"Supreme God above, there are monsters on the island."
The air in the cockpit froze.
The first mate took the telescope, glanced through it, and lowered it. "A bunch of walking skeletons. Quite a lot of them."
The mechanic got to his feet, gripping his wrench. "Bones? How tough can bones be? We have guns!"
The navigator looked up, tears still on his face. "Can guns kill them?"
The mechanic said nothing.
He did not know whether guns could kill those skeletons either. After all, those things were already dead.
The captain's gaze left the island and settled on every face in the cockpit.
"Our supplies will not last more than a few days. If we don't land, we'll die out here. If we do, we still have a chance. The Supreme God will bless us!"
He opened the cockpit door and walked onto the deck.
The first mate followed behind, carrying a Magic Crystal Rifle.
The mechanic held a wrench, the navigator had empty hands, and the radio operator hugged the radio set.
The sailors emerged from the cabin. They were all Imperial soldiers and had received professional training.
The ship slowly approached the shore. When it was still several hundred meters away, the detection equipment began sounding alarms, and a string of red numbers flashed across the screen.
"Contamination levels have exceeded the limit." A scientist stared at the screen, his fingers flying across the keyboard.
"Radiation levels have exceeded the limit. There's also unknown energy. The instruments can't identify its type, but the concentration is extremely high—more than a hundred times above safety standards."
Several sailors went pale.
Some had already begun to feel unwell. They coughed, rubbed their eyes, or felt their skin itch.
A young sailor