Chapter 90: Hold Everything

The Sea-Goliath’s engine hum vibrated through the steel deck as the freighter slowly approached the harbor.

Standing along the water’s edge were the dockworkers... waiting.

When the massive twenty-thousand-ton ship glided past the outer breakwater with its navigation lights glowing amber, the crowd on the pier went completely wild. Men threw their wool caps into the air, shouting, whistling, and banging iron wrenches against the steel bollards.

On the bridge wing, Captain Flint stood with both hands resting on the railing, looking down at his home port with red-rimmed eyes.

Beside him, Evren and Amber leaned against the rail, watching the tugboats move into position.

"Throw the mooring lines!" Captain Flint barked down to his deckhands.

Thick ropes soared through the air, quickly caught by the workers below. The ship’s winches groaned as they pulled the massive vessel against the dock bumpers, settling it gently into its berth.

With a loud clatter of iron chains, the main boarding gangway lowered onto the concrete.

Evren and Amber walked down first.

Right behind them came Captain Flint and the twenty surviving crew members. Two deckhands supported the two wounded security guards, whose arms and shoulders were wrapped in clean white bandages.

The moment their boots touched the pier, the crowd surged forward.

"Captain Flint!" Harlen shouted, pushing through the front row of workers.

Harlen threw his thick arms around Flint, clapping the older captain hard on the back. "You old sea dog! When that radio went dead, we thought we lost you and the whole damn ship!"

"We were dead in the water, Harlen," Flint replied. "Those beasts broke the bridge glass. If Chairman Evren and Miss Amber hadn’t jumped on board and cleared the deck with their bare hands, none of us would be standing here."

Harlen turned toward Evren with deep respect. He pulled off his dirty cap and bowed his head.

"Chairman Evren," Harlen said loudly. "You paid our wages without asking for a single favor. Then you went out into that cursed fog yourself and brought our brothers home alive. From this day forward, every man in Sector Two answers to you."

The four hundred dockworkers roared their agreement, chanting Evren’s name so loudly it echoed off the metal warehouses.

A team of harbor medics pushed through the crowd with folding stretchers, immediately taking charge of the two wounded guards to move them to the port clinic.

"What about the cargo, Captain?" a crane operator called out.

"Twenty thousand tons of refined alloy ore, fully intact," Flint replied proudly. "Not a single crate damaged!"

Harlen turned toward the crane towers, waving his arm in a wide circle. "You heard the captain! Cut the engines on those tugs and power up the cranes! Let’s get this metal unloaded!"

Just then, the squeal of tires echoed down the gravel access road.

A black sedan with the gold seal of the Metropolis Guild Bureau screeched to a halt beside the pier, its red emergency roof light flashing.

The driver’s door flew open, and a middle-aged man in a dark tailored overcoat stepped out, clutching a leather briefcase against his chest. His tie was loose, his thinning hair was messed up by the wind, and sweat was dripping down his pale cheeks.

District Chief Inspector Miller.

Miller had been sitting in his warm office when Docket 902 flashed across the central network with S-Rank priority. The moment he saw that the Sea-Goliath had been rescued and the distress records were logged on the central servers, panic had seized him.

He had driven like a madman to the docks, desperate to bury the evidence before Central Internal Affairs arrived.

Miller pushed his way through the crowd of dockworkers, trying to look authoritative. "Hold everything!" he yelled. "Shut down those cranes! Cut the power right now!"

The crane operators ignored him, swinging another bucket of ore over the loading dock.

Miller marched straight toward Captain Flint and Evren, pointing a trembling finger at the ship. "As District Chief Inspector, I am placing this vessel, its cargo, and all operational records under Class-Three quarantine! All flight recorders, communication logs, and black boxes must be surrendered into my custody immediately!"

Harlen stepped directly into Miller’s path, crossing his massive arms. "You’ve got some nerve showing your ugly face down here, Miller."

Miller glared at the harbor master. "Step aside, Harlen! This is official Bureau business! Obstructing an inspector during an active hazard review is a federal crime!"

"An active hazard?" Harlen growled, stepping closer until his broad chest was inches from Miller’s nose. "Ten days ago, our divers told you about the rift, and you faked the report for Prescott! You told us it was routine underwater heat noise! Three men got ripped apart because of you!"

The surrounding dockworkers closed in, looking furious and clutching their iron tools.

Miller took a nervous step back. "That... that was an unverified preliminary reading! Now step aside before I call enforcers to clear this pier!"

"You don’t need to call anyone, Inspector," a calm voice cut through the noise.

Evren stepped past Harlen.

He looked down at Miller with flat, unbothered eyes. His hands were tucked in his pockets.

"Chairman Evren," Miller said, forcing a nervous smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "You’re new to Veridia’s maritime regulations. All these are just routines. My department will handle the investigation internally and ensure Apex isn’t held liable for any damages."

Miller reached out his hand.

Evren pulled his right hand from his jacket pocket. Resting between his fingers was the Voyage Data Recorder cartridge Captain Flint had ejected from the console.

Miller’s eyes went wide with desperation. He lunged forward to grab it. "Give me that..."

WHEEEEE-OOO-WHEEEEE-OOO!

A loud, dual-tone siren cut through the air.

Two gray SUVs with tinted windows and reinforced steel bumpers screeched through the harbor gate, sliding to a stop directly behind Miller’s sedan and blocking it in completely.

The doors opened, and four men in dark trench coats stepped out. Each of them wore the silver scale badge of Central Internal Affairs pinned to their lapels... the elite investigative unit that answered directly to Chief Inspector Flores.

The lead marshal stepped forward.

"District Chief Inspector Miller," the marshal said in a cold, even voice. "Take two steps back from Chairman Evren."

Miller froze. His face turned the color of damp chalk. "Marshal... this is my district! I am conducting an active quarantine review..."

"Your jurisdiction was suspended ten minutes ago by central order," the marshal interrupted cleanly.

Evren didn’t waste a second. He walked past Miller and handed the black-box cartridge directly to the Central Marshal.

"This is the official Voyage Data Recorder from the Sea-Goliath," Evren said calmly. "It contains logged transmissions from forty-eight hours ago. Inspector Miller rejected three emergency distress warnings, classified an active rift as geothermal noise, and threatened the captain with a fifty-thousand-dollar fine to force thirty-two crew members and twenty thousand tons of ore into the rift hazard."

The marshal took the drive and slotted it into a handheld tactical scanner.

The small screen lit up green instantly.

[CARTRIDGE VERIFIED: VOYAGE DATA RECORDER #SG-404]

[DIGITAL SIGNATURE CONFIRMED: DISTRICT CHIEF INSPECTOR MILLER]

[TELEMETRY ARCHIVE: UNALTERED & ENCRYPTED]

[VIOLATIONS DETECTED: 3x REJECTED DISTRESS PROTOCOLS / ILLEGAL COERCION NOTICE]

The marshal looked up from the screen, then at Miller with disgust.

"District Chief Inspector Miller," the marshal announced. "Under Article Nine of the Central Maritime Code, you are under arrest for falsification of public safety records, extortion, and criminal endangerment resulting in mass civilian casualty risk."

Two marshals stepped forward.

Before Miller could even utter another word, they grabbed his arms, twisted them behind his back, and snapped a pair of handcuffs around his wrists.

"Wait! Listen to me!" Miller shrieked. "It wasn’t my idea! Lord Prescott forced me! He paid me off and threatened to ruin my career! You have to listen to me!"

"You can tell the tribunal all about it," the lead marshal said coldly, shoving Miller into the back of the armored SUV.

SLAM.

The doors locked shut.

The lead marshal turned back toward Evren. "Chairman Evren, Miller is in custody, but our central scanners show that C-Rank submerged rift is still active. The provincial naval strike division in the capital is on standby, but mobilization and transit will take at least four hours. Do you need us to request an emergency naval deployment?"

Before the marshal could finish, the sound of diesel engines rolled down the access road.

Evren looked toward the harbor gate with a faint smile. "No need to trouble the Navy, Marshal. My guild is already here."

Three large, black armored vehicles, marked with the Apex Guild crest, drove through the open gates and lined up at Pier 4.

The hydraulic side doors slid open with a hiss of pressurized air.

Ten Awakeners in dark armor stepped out in perfect formation. They were fully equipped for the deep, with mana-rebreathers on their backs, specialised fins attached to their boots, and pneumatic mana-harpoon rifles strapped to their chests.

The lead marshal stared at the heavily equipped unit in surprise. "That’s... an entire deep-water strike squad."

"Trained and equipped," Amber added calmly from beside Evren.

Leading the unit was Derrick.

He stopped two paces in front of Evren, snapped his boots together, and delivered a salute.

"Apex guild reporting for duty, Chairman!" he declared. "We received the coordinates from Director Mikay."

Evren looked at Derrick, then glanced at the ten guild members behind him. He returned a nod, his eyes looking toward the dark ocean water beyond the breakwater.

"Sixty meters down," Evren gave the order. "Clear the scuttlers, destroy the core, and seal the fissure. Show this city what Apex Guild can do."