I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 516 The Death Star is Shining

On the fifth day after Chris arrived in Omdour, before the morning sea fog had completely dissipated, the lookout's excited shouts, distorted by emotion, came from the port's watchtower.

"The fleet, it's the First Fleet... They're back!"

The news spread like a pebble thrown into still water, quickly creating ripples throughout the Omdur port area.

The busy people on the dock stopped what they were doing, and the special bugle call that signified the fleet's return to port rang out from the naval base.

Bathed in the light of the rising sun, the massive silhouette of the First Fleet slowly pierced through the thin mist and appeared on the horizon.

The three battleships, like sea fortresses, still stood majestically, their dark hulls gleaming coldly in the sunlight, their layered gun ports tightly shut, yet their imposing presence remained undiminished.

The escort ships circled around, maintaining a fairly complete formation.

At least in the eyes of ordinary people and most mid- to low-level officials, this triumphant fleet was no different from when it set out; it was still that reassuring steel Great Wall at sea.

Cheers erupted from the crowd as they welcomed the kingdom's warriors back.

However, Chris knew in advance what they were going to encounter.

Therefore, he arranged for people to clear the military dock in advance, drive away all the irrelevant people, and then sent people to guide the people disembarking.

The most important thing is to focus on the remaining players on the Sea Lion, along with the half-elves, and the elf and snake-man captives.

As the fleet slowly approached the deep-water berths reserved for them, a solemn atmosphere, quite different from the cheers of the crowd, enveloped the naval port.

The first to disembark were Vice Admiral Marlowe, the fleet commander, and his key officers. Their faces showed no joy of victory, only exhaustion and solemnity after a fierce battle.

Lieutenant General Marlowe strode toward Chris, who was waiting at the dock, saluted, and began to report in a low voice at a rapid pace.

At the same time, squads of soldiers in Guards uniforms with stern expressions quickly boarded the Sea Lion and several other ships participating in the boarding action.

They were not there to welcome their comrades, but to carry out blockade and escort missions.

……

I regained consciousness amidst sharp, knife-like headaches and a burning thirst in my throat.

He turned his head and looked around, finding himself lying in a narrow, dimly lit space, with a cold, hard, slightly damp wooden floor beneath him. As the ship rocked slightly, a strange mixture of smells filled the air... the smell of blood and sweat, the salty smell of seawater, and the fragrance of wood all mixed together.

Unhappy and unwilling to play, he tried to stand up, only to find himself tightly bound by some kind of translucent rope that emitted a faint glow. The rope seemed thin, but it was exceptionally tough. With the slightest effort, a wisp of icy blue light flowed through the rope, tightening it even more. At the same time, a chill penetrated his clothes and stung his skin.

&%

A cold voice, filled with obvious disgust, rang out.

Unhappy and unwilling to play, I struggled to lift my head and saw an elf man dressed in a dark blue fitted outfit standing not far away, leaning against the cabin wall, slowly and meticulously wiping a strangely shaped scimitar with a velvet cloth.

His long, pointed ears twitched slightly, and his deep blue pupils held no warmth, only a scrutinizing gaze as if he were examining a lower being.

Unhappy and unwilling to play, he struggled to raise his head, meeting those cold, scrutinizing, azure eyes. He licked his chapped lips, trying to speak, but only a hoarse hoarse sound came from his throat.

When the elven man saw that he had woken up, he stopped wiping his scimitar and spoke a string of words in a language with a strange rhythm, yet full of detachment.

The voice was clear and the tone was even, as if stating a fact or issuing a command.

He looked completely bewildered, unable to understand a single word the other person was saying.

"Water...is there any water?"

"I'm not happy, I won't play," he tried to ask in dry Bagnian, his voice hoarse.

The elven man's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, and the disgust in his eyes seemed to deepen.

He clearly didn't understand what Bu Shuang Bu Wan was saying, so he didn't respond to Shui's request. Instead, he pointed the tip of his scimitar at the glowing rope on Bu Shuang Bu Wan's body, then at a fixed iron ring in the corner of the cabin, and said a short word with an unquestionable command in his tone.

"Don't play guessing games when you're unhappy" probably means "stay put" or "don't make any moves."

“Stain…”

He frowned and stopped talking. The NPC's actions made BuShuangBuWan feel very annoyed.

The elven man merely stared coldly at the player's reaction, making no move, as if observing an insect performing a meaningless act.

His handsome but expressionless face clearly showed his judgment as "uncommunicable" and "inferior being".

Suddenly, Bushuangbuwan realized that this idiot actually knew what he needed, but the latter deliberately ignored his basic needs and treated him with a condescending attitude.

He stopped trying to communicate with words and stared intently at the elf with a fierce look, but this only seemed to amuse the elf more. The elf even curled up a barely perceptible smile and then stopped looking at him, continuing to focus on wiping the scimitar that looked like a work of art.

Time passed slowly in silence and torment.

If you're not happy and don't play, you can feel the ship moving, but the speed doesn't seem fast, and the direction is hard to judge.

The magical ropes binding him continued to emanate a chill, making his already weakened body, weakened by blood loss and exhaustion, even more uncomfortable. Thirst burned like fire in his throat and chest.

After an unknown amount of time, the hatch was gently pushed open, and another elf walked in.

The elf's attire was more refined, his long, silvery-white hair neatly tied back, and his demeanor more composed. He glanced at the unsatisfied player, then exchanged a few brief words with the previous guard in that pleasant yet unfamiliar language.

The guard responded respectfully, pointing at the unhappy player as if giving a report.

The elf nodded, his gaze falling once again on the one who was unhappy and unwilling to play.

This time, his eyes held less pure disgust and more scrutiny and...inquiry.

He walked slowly closer, squatted down, and looked at Bu Zhao at eye level.

The elf brought no water, nor did he intend to untie the ropes. He simply extended a slender finger, its tip shrouded in a faint blue halo, and gently touched the forehead of the disgruntled man.

In an instant, BuShuangBuWan felt something invisible trying to enter his brain. This feeling was not painful, but it was accompanied by an extreme discomfort and sense of danger from being forcibly spied on.

"Go away!"

Frustrated and enraged, he roared inwardly, desperately concentrating his mind to resist this external force.

He didn't know what the elf wanted to do—read his memories? Mind control? Whatever it was, he would never let him succeed!
Perhaps sensing his strong resistance, the elf frowned slightly, withdrew his finger, and looked even more inquisitive. He muttered something to himself, seemingly puzzled.

Then, the second elf stood up, gave the guard another instruction, and turned to leave the cabin.

Throughout the entire process, he didn't give Bu Shuang a single drop of water, nor did he have any intention of communicating with her.

After the elf left, the guard's gaze toward Buxiebuwan seemed even colder, and even carried a hint of... wariness?
It seems that the previous resistance, which was seen as dissatisfaction, solidified the label of "dangerous" or "abnormal".

I was annoyed and started cursing under my breath.

He ran through every curse word he could think of in his mind over and over again, cursing the elf guardian and all his possible relatives for eighteen generations, and even cursing the game designers and the players who advised him not to commit suicide.

But cursing didn't quench his thirst, nor did it loosen the damned magic ropes binding him. After cursing for about ten minutes in frustration, he forced himself to calm down and began to analyze the situation.

These long-eared, pointy-eared bastards clearly don't treat me like a human being; they won't even give me the most basic water.

The one who came later, did he even try to use mental magic on me?
Damn, the NPCs in this game are so intelligent, they're even good at torture and mental probing.
Forget it, I'll log off and check back tomorrow to see what's going on.

……

When he clicked the login button again, feeling frustrated and unable to play, his consciousness was pulled back from the void. What swept over him first was not visual information, but the physical pain that almost devoured him.

Thirst burned like a red-hot iron in his throat and chest, each weak breath bringing a tearing pain. Hunger, like an invisible hand, gripped his stomach tightly, bringing waves of weak spasms and dizziness.

Every muscle in my body aches and feels weak, and the pain from the wound on my left arm has become numb and persistent due to the continuous chill.

He was still lying in that dimly lit cabin, the wooden planks beneath him seeming even colder and damper.

The ship stopped rocking and remained still, with only the slight sound of ripples coming from outside the hull.

The ship has stopped?
This was the first clear thought in his chaotic mind.

The cabin was not empty; the elven guard who was responsible for watching over him was still standing in the same spot, his posture not even changing much, like a cold sculpture.

When Bushuangbuwan let out a faint groan, unable to suppress his extreme thirst, the elven guard's indifferent gaze swept over him.

This time, Bu Shuang didn't try to communicate with words; he simply lay there, looking at the elf and meeting its gaze.

The elven guard stared at him silently for a long time, until the former felt a chill run down his spine... The elf couldn't understand how a human's gaze could be so venomous.

So, he finally moved.

The guard walked to a corner of the cabin, where there was a small cabinet fixed to the wall.

He opened the cabinet door and took out not a water sac or a water cup, but a container that looked like the shell of some kind of large nut or a polished hard plant fruit.

He walked over to Bu Shuang Bu Wan, and instead of untying the ropes, he squatted down, pinched Bu Shuang Bu Wan's chin open with one hand, and brought the edge of the container to his lips with the other.

The container contained clear water, carrying a hint of the unique, refreshing scent of plants.

But I refuse!!!

"Not happy, I won't play" gave the elf a mocking smile, then instead of drinking water, he pursed his lips tightly and... logged off.

Two hours later, when BuShuangBuWan logged back in, he found himself off the ship, lying in a sandpit. Two elves stood beside the pit, holding shovels and staring at him with cold eyes.

Are they going to bury me alive?

Do you still think I'm dead?
No, that's not important. What's important is the sky... If you're unhappy, don't play games. Look up at the sky.

It was already dark here, and the moon hadn't appeared tonight, so the stars were shining brightly. It was easy for me to find my familiar stars in the night sky.

Then, not happy and not playing around, he grinned and laughed with his last bit of strength.

"Alright, screenshot taken. I know the coordinates here. You long-eared idiots, just wait to die!"

(End of this chapter)