Pierce stood in the middle of the empty cabin. The air still held the faint warm fragrance of a young girl.
The silence lasted for dozens of seconds before one of them finally could not bear it any longer. His Adam's apple bobbed as he spoke in a dry voice. "We've been guarding the door the whole time, never left even one step. The porthole was locked from the outside too, and the patrol team outside kept watch and confirmed it was never opened. We didn't hear any strange sounds inside, and no one was seen entering or leaving—until, until you came and opened the door—"
He could not continue.
That was the truth—a living person had simply evaporated into thin air inside this heavily guarded cabin.
"Idiots!" Pierce forced the words through gritted teeth, his voice low and hoarse. "Could she turn into air and flow out through the keyhole?!"
He spun around sharply, his chest heaving as he tried to use fury to suppress the growing panic in his heart.
Rigerif's disappearance was not merely the loss of a vital "asset." If they could not find her, his reckless gamble to seize control of the Far North amid this chaos was destined to end in failure.
The old man beside him interjected, "As for the guests—although the final farewell ball has temporarily appeased them, the ship has already docked. Once they realize they still cannot disembark, I'm afraid—"
Pierce shook his head. "No need to stop them. Arrange a reliable team to guard the gangway. Officially, they are there to see the guests off. In reality, they will inspect them. Everyone leaving must be carefully checked—their faces, builds,"
"Personal belongings. As long as she hasn't turned into a fly and flown away, she has to pass through there."