Chapter 88: The Real Truth

The afternoon wind was cold and damp at the Sector Two deep-water shipping port.

Thick fog rolled off the ocean, covering the docks and tugboats. Four huge cargo cranes stood still along the pier, their gears wrapped in heavy iron chains and locked with padlocks.

And standing in front of the cranes were about four hundred dockworkers in stained canvas coats, muddy rubber boots, and wool caps, holding iron wrenches and pry bars.

A black armored car rolled over the gravel road and stopped near the pier.

Evren stepped out wearing an unzipped dark bomber jacket, a fitted black t-shirt, dark cargo pants, and black sneakers. Amber stepped out beside him in a navy coat, while Mikay followed with his digital tablet.

The crowd went quiet as Evren walked toward them.

A tall, broad-shouldered man with a graying beard stepped out from the front row. This was Chief Harbor Master Harlen.

"Chairman Evren," Harlen called out, crossing his thick arms. "I’m guessing you came down here because the cranes aren’t moving."

"I did," Evren said, stopping a few paces away.

"We know you bought the port yesterday at City Hall," Harlen said. "We heard you dropped a billion dollars to buy Prescott’s foundries and shipping lines. But buying the deeds doesn’t mean you bought the men who work here. We’re not moving a single crate."

"And why’s that?" Evren asked.

"Because Lord Prescott hasn’t paid anyone on these docks for three months," Harlen replied, trying to keep the anger in. "Eight hundred workers haven’t seen a paycheck for ninety days. Our families are living on dry bread. The power company cut off heating to our homes last week, while Prescott’s son was throwing stacks of cash around high-end casinos."

Harlen pointed at the four giant cargo ships idling out in the bay.

"Those freighters out there are carrying tens of thousands of tons of refined ore," Harlen continued. "If you have a billion dollars to buy foundries, you have the money to pay the men who keep this port running. Until every dollar of back pay is in our hands, this harbor stays locked down."

Amber looked at the shivering workers in the front row. Two older men were leaning on metal pipes, their faces pale from exhaustion.

Mikay leaned close to Evren. "Boss, Prescott diverted the entire harbor operating fund into an offshore account three months ago to pay his private mercenaries. They haven’t been paid since the start of winter."

Evren nodded once.

He walked right past Harlen, stepping up to the front row of dockworkers. He looked at a middle-aged crane operator whose hands were cracked from the cold, then turned back toward Mikay.

"Mikay, what’s the exact figure?"

Mikay checked his tablet. "Eight hundred workers across all shifts, Chairman. Three months of unpaid wages plus overtime comes to six million dollars."

"Clear all three months right now," Evren ordered calmly. "Add a fifty percent Welcome Bonus on top for every worker. Then register all of them and their families into the Apex Foundation for full medical coverage, starting today."

The entire pier went dead silent.

Harlen stared at Evren, completely stunned. "What... what did you just say?"

Mikay held up his tablet, generating the encrypted payment QR code linked to the port’s payroll registry.

Evren pulled his phone from his pocket, scanned the screen, and confirmed the wire.

BEEP.

[APEX MARITIME PAYROLL CLEARED]

[TOTAL DISBURSEMENT: $9,000,000.00 USD TO 800 PORT WORKERS]

[STATUS: THREE MONTHS BACK-PAY + 50% APEX WELCOME BONUS SENT IN FULL]

At the same moment, Evren’s phone vibrated with a private banking update:

[ACCOUNT DEBIT: -$9,000,000.00 USD | REMAINING BALANCE: $10,596,197,542.50 USD.]

PING. PING. PING. PING.

Within seconds, cell phones started buzzing all across the pier.

A young docker pulled a battered phone from his coat. His eyes went wide as he stared at the screen.

"Look at this!" the young man shouted. "Eleven thousand, two hundred and fifty dollars just hit my account! The back pay... and the bonus! It actually cleared!"

"Mine came through too!" another worker yelled.

The young docker put the phone to his ear with shaking hands. "Sarah? Sarah, it’s paid! The new Chairman just paid all three months! We’re buying groceries and turning the heat back on tonight!"

Across the pier, the wall of angry men completely collapsed. Hardened dockworkers covered their faces with dirty hands, crying in relief. Men were laughing, shouting, and throwing their arms around each other.

Harlen stood frozen in place, looking down at his phone, then back at Evren. His iron wrench slipped from his fingers, hitting the concrete with a loud clatter.

"You paid it all," Harlen said in a shaky voice. "Nine million dollars... on the spot. You didn’t even ask us to take the chains off first."

"A man who works deserves to be paid," Evren said. "Your families shouldn’t have to beg for money they already earned."

Harlen wiped his face with his rough coat sleeve. He watched his men already grabbing bolt cutters to cut the chains, then stepped closer to Evren and lowered his voice.

"Chairman... since you’re our new boss now, I guess that the NDA we signed with Prescott isn’t valid anymore," Harlen said quietly. "So I can tell you the real truth. The unpaid wages were only part of the problem. There’s another reason we chained the cranes."

Evren looked at him. "What’s the other reason?"

"We’re scared for our lives," Harlen confessed, looking toward the misty water. "So... about ten days ago, our dredging crew was clearing silt along the outer sea trench when their sonar picked up mana tremors on the ocean floor. A low-rank underwater rift opened up in the middle of the shipping lane, and it started leaking monsters into the water."

Amber frowned. "An active rift in a public shipping lane? Why wasn’t it reported to the Guild Bureau?"

"Because Prescott had four massive freighters arriving this week with hundreds of millions in refined ores," Harlen replied bitterly. "A rift report would mean an emergency shutdown and weeks of safety checks. Prescott didn’t want to lose money, so he asked Inspector Miller from the local district bureau to fake the sonar report as routine underwater heat noise."

"Inspector Miller," Evren said in a cold voice.

"Yeah, that crooked bastard," Harlen nodded. "Two days later, three of our divers were attacked in the water. One lost an arm. The other two barely survived with shredded ribs. They’re still recovering in the clinic."

Harlen pointed toward two men in the crowd who had bandaged arms in slings.

"When we complained, Prescott sent armed enforcers to our houses," Harlen continued. "He forced every diver and crane operator to sign non-disclosure agreements, threatening to throw our families on the street if we leaked a word. He promised he’d hire private hunters to clear it, but he never did. He just ignored it and let the ore ships keep coming."

Harlen turned toward the fog hanging over the open water.

"Over the past week, that rift started swelling," Harlen said. "That mist isn’t normal sea fog. It’s mana fog leaking from the breach, and it’s spreading into the harbor."

Before Evren could respond, a deep, mournful ship’s horn bellowed from out in the bay.

HOOOOOOOOONK!

Inside the nearby harbor control shack, an emergency alarm started screaming over the console:

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

"Harbor Master!" a radio operator shouted through the open window. "It’s the fourth freighter, the Sea-Goliath! They drifted into the fog bank near the outer trench! Their emergency distress signal just fired!"

Harlen, Evren, and Amber rushed into the control shack.

Harlen grabbed the radio mic, slamming the channel switch. "Sea-Goliath, this is Harbor Control! Captain, what’s your status?!"

Loud static burst through the speaker, mixed with panicked yelling and gunfire.

"Harbor Control, we’re under attack!" a desperate voice screamed over the radio. "Creatures are climbing up the anchor chains and swarming the lower deck! Giant, barnacle-covered things with sharp claws... they’ve broken into the engine room! Water is flooding in! AHHH! THEY’RE AT THE BRIDGE!"

CRASH!

The sound of glass shattering echoed through the radio, followed by terrified screams and a thud.

Then, the line went dead. Only the hollow hiss of static came from the speaker.

Harlen stared at the silent mic with a pale face. "Thirty-two crew members on that ship... and twenty thousand tons of ore. They’re trapped in the fog."

Evren turned toward the door. "Mikay?"

"Right here, Boss," Mikay answered.

"Log an emergency S-Rank rescue to the Central Guild Bureau right now," Evren ordered. "Upload the Sea-Goliath’s distress signal to the central registry. I want an official timestamp logged on the main servers before we leave."

Mikay quickly tapped his tablet. "Filing it now, Chairman. Our S-Rank charter makes the emergency authorization instant. Central servers just locked the ticket under Docket 902."

"Good. Stay on the pier with Harlen’s men and keep the harbor secured."

"Understood. Be careful out there, Chairman."

Evren looked at Harlen. "Harlen."

"Y-Yes, Chairman?"

"Get your fastest armored boat ready in the water right now," Evren said, zipping up his dark bomber jacket.

"Where are you going, Chairman?" Harlen asked in shock. "That ship is crawling with monsters!"

Evren looked toward the dark fog rolling over the bay. "We’re going to get our ship back."