There can't be a Harvest Moon in the RimWorld.

The captain, now at the helm, had an unkempt stubble on his face and bloodshot eyes from lack of sleep, yet he appeared slightly agitated. He had a cigar dangling from his lips, and judging from the ash scattered across the cabin floor, he had been doing so for quite some time.

In the passenger seat sat a young man. His cautious demeanor, clad in military uniform and insignia, was exemplary. While one eye was fixed on the flashing data on the instrument panel, the other glanced at the glass next to his seat, occasionally adjusting the perfect angle of his military cap.

"Don't look down on the young upstart. Even if you rub your head until it bleeds with that damn hat, you won't get any more rank in private."

The captain's sudden words startled the self-absorbed young man, who then retorted sheepishly, "So...so you're planning to set the plane on fire with a cigar! You old smoker, I just want to get away from you! If I could open a window, I'd stick my head out!"

The seasoned smoker who flew the plane was clearly a veteran of many battles and was no longer bothered by such thoughtless, sarcastic remarks. Instead, he took out a cigar from his pocket, put it to his nose, and inhaled it with relish.

"What do you know about tender green cigarettes! This kind of top-quality stuff can't even be bought on the black market under normal circumstances! I'd rather smoke my lungs until they burst than miss out on a single one!"

He took a deep, blissful puff, weighed the unsmoked cigar in his hand, and then carefully put it back in his pocket.

Seeing the young upstart still looking disdainful, the old smoker patted the crudely made cigar box beside him and grinned wickedly, "Do you think I'm stupid for asking for two cases of cigars? Only you asking for a promotion are the smart ones?"

The young man took off his hat and pointed indignantly at his rank insignia: "Old smoker, after you finish all these cigars, you'll have to go back to smoking your rotten vegetable-leaf-flavored Mahe cigarettes. But I've become a sergeant, and I'll get at least fifteen pounds more in salary every year!"

Hearing this, the old smoker grinned wickedly, exhaled a puff of smoke, continuing to pollute the air, and pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket.

"Look."

The young man took the paper with some disdain, seemingly trying not to think about what it might have been used to wrap something, and subconsciously asked, "What are you looking at?"

The old smoker leaned back.

"Remember, I'm the captain, and you're the first officer. This is obviously the combat order."

The young man frowned and opened the paper. I curiously leaned forward to take a look and found that there was only a short line of text on it.

"Locate the sunken location of aircraft codenamed K-8, hold the salvage position, and await further instructions."

It was followed by a string of latitude and longitude numbers.

The young man handed back the piece of paper and casually asked, "I probably guessed it was this order. Since we started flying together, haven't we been looking for things every day? The day before yesterday, we even rescued a submarine whose sonar compartment was on fire."

But the old smoker shook his head: "You think this private first class promotion is just a result of your accumulated military merits? Heh heh, I don't think this is just an ordinary search and salvage operation. I didn't think of it when I received the mission, but after we set off, I suddenly remembered. The old soldier told me about the K-type aircraft..."

The young man asked in confusion, "What story?"

Seeing the young man's interest, the old smoker got a little excited, exhaled a puff of cigar smoke, and choked the unsuspecting young man who had come close. Then he laughed rather maliciously.

"Hahaha... When I was about your age, I was also running air routes with the veterans. They were all seasoned soldiers who had been rotated from the front lines, and most of them had some kind of 'war syndrome' and couldn't keep their mouths shut."

"Once, during a casual conversation, an old soldier told me that fighter jets should never get close to storm clouds—no matter how far they are beyond the troposphere, never get close to them."

The young man scoffed, "These people probably haven't read any books. Once they enter the stratosphere, storms won't affect fighter jets at all. Do you think they'd change their flight paths just because a storm is blocking their way?"

The old chain smoker, head down, stared at the instrument panel, saying as he operated the controls, "I don't know about that. But you know, old pilots like me have seen things that are hard to explain. Have you heard of encountering flying sharks when you get too close to the eye of the storm? A pilot once encountered one over the southern coast, and according to his description, there were at least a hundred sharks flying in the sky, which was extremely dangerous..."

The young man with the green hair looked at him with disdain: "Do you think I'm stupid?"

The old smoker said seriously, "I'm not lying to you. These sharks weren't blown up by the wind. Rather, a group of sharks swam together in one direction, forming a vortex. Then, under extreme weather conditions, various factors combined to create a shark tornado. This is a real phenomenon!"

This time, not only did the young man's attitude waver, but I was also completely dumbfounded.

Holy crap, why does this sound somewhat reasonable... Could it be true?

The young man asked for me, "...Is that really true?"

The old smoker nodded heavily and said, "It's absolutely true! As for how the pilot escaped from the shark swarm, I have no idea, because I woke up just as he was about to speak... Hahaha, you don't believe me, do you? No way!"

...Is this guy related to Father Carter by blood? If I knew the Sleeping Arhat Fist, I would throw this guy out of the plane right now.

After a long, breathless bout of mockery of the young upstart, the old smoker finally caught his breath and said to the indignant young man, "I'm not kidding anymore... Hahaha, what the old soldier told me was that getting too close to the eye of the storm in the open sea makes you vulnerable to mysterious flying objects. They'll follow your plane like ghosts, and no matter how fast you go, you can't shake them off until you crash..."

This time, the young man was completely unconvinced. He walked out of the cockpit and started tidying up his uniform in the cabin, admiring it.

The old smoker raised his voice a few decibels, trying to persuade him to stay: "Don't go, listen to me... I'm not lying to you this time! This is based on real evidence! The veteran said that back then, in order to block the government army's advance, the Morden rebels devised a combat plan called 'Operation Dome,' attempting to manufacture a large number of unmanned aerial vehicles to monopolize air superiority. This plan was captured by the combat troops during the attack on the main camp, so it can't be faked!"

Young Man thought for a moment, “I know about this plan, but the ‘Dome Project’ lacked supplies and collapsed under the siege of the Federal Army. How could the rebel factory have lasted until now?”

The old smoker retorted with dissatisfaction, "That's all just appearances! The veteran told me that besides the plan written by Morden, they also had another hidden plan, executed by the mysterious Ptolemaic forces within the rebel army! The purpose of this plan was to create large unmanned bomber groups numbered K, carrying super-yield hydrogen bombs in a flight loop to pursue the enemy! If the government forces dared to get close, the hydrogen bombs would be detonated, causing widespread destruction and mutual destruction!"

The sensational story didn't frighten the naive young man; he quickly realized, "Your story is fascinating, but I've found a flaw! If such a bombing squadron really existed, how did we win the war so decisively?"

The old smoker hesitated for a moment before saying, "There are too many miracles during wartime, like the PF squadron, aren't there? According to the veterans, before these K-shaped aircraft could even take off after being loaded, the research base was caught in an unprecedented storm, and the Ptolemaic forces disappeared along with them..."

"No one knows whether hydrogen bombs were actually deployed there as planned, or how many planes were truly armed and ready to take off. The veterans only say that in the decades that followed, old comrades frequently claimed to have seen these legendary K-shaped unmanned bombers. Those strange-looking aircraft would still emerge from the eye of the storm decades later, chasing their prey like monstrous eagles. And in the instants of their parallel flight, an unsettling dark red light could be seen flashing inside the cockpit..."

The sky in the distance gradually darkened, and it was already dusk on one side. Darkness slowly spread through the empty cabin, a veil of quietude enveloping everything. Even the red indicator lights used to illuminate the cabin now looked somewhat menacing…

After finishing his story, the old smoker stopped, still somewhat shaken, as if he had returned to his early teens, when he was so frightened by the old soldiers' strange tales in the cabin that he couldn't sleep all night.

He took two puffs, only to find that the cigar he was holding had gone out. He had no choice but to free his hand to fiddle with the lighter and take out a new cigar from his pocket, preparing to elegantly cut it open with a cigar cutter.

The young man absentmindedly returned to his seat, and the two fell into a subtle calm.

For the first time, he took off his hat and placed it neatly on his knees. Only then did I notice that his forehead was covered in a fine layer of sweat despite the chilly air at high altitude.

Young man sat down in the passenger seat, glanced at the sunset outside the window, then looked at the dashboard, and a look of astonishment suddenly flashed across his face.

He rubbed his eyes, seemingly confirming it repeatedly in disbelief, and finally shoved the old smoker with a trembling hand, ignoring the other's anger at almost knocking his cigar away, his voice filled with terror as he stared at the radar screen!

"Old...old smoker! Something's rapidly approaching us from six o'clock! Climb quickly! It's about to crash!!!"

Before I could finish speaking, I saw a huge shadow looming over the cockpit from the side window of the cockpit.

In an instant, apart from the cold light of the dashboard, not a single ray of light could be seen! Even more chilling was the intermittent scratching sound coming from the glass just an arm's length away from the young man…

Chapter 617 Accompanying Me Towards the Abyss

I had ample reason to force myself to believe that what I was seeing was partly or entirely an illusion, but what I saw with my own eyes was so terrifyingly real that my tiny hope was completely swallowed up before it even had a chance to rise.

Just as my heart was gripped by the tense atmosphere, everything went completely dark. I couldn't even see the cigarette butt that was flickering in the old smoker's mouth. It was as if some unknown entity outside the window was swallowing up all the light.

This moment is as still as a revolving lantern before death, the minute moments are stretched infinitely, and finally, driven by the desire to live, they coil back into a Möbius strip. The curling and boiling vortex of time begins to numb people, until all senses dissolve into a chaotic world.

The soul-shaking sound of scratching glass never rang out again, and even the old smoker's gasp and the young lad's incoherent screams vanished from my ears as if from a vacuum.

In the numb wait that might last only a second or extend for a thousand years, I finally confirmed...

This distorted dream has shattered.

I can't help but wonder, if this memory truly exists and I inadvertently brought it out of that poisonous abyss, would the deadly poison spreading in the air of reality extinguish all hope of exploring new things?

If that's the case, then I'd rather face this fear alone. This isn't just about seeking moral redress, but also about warning against those who might violate taboos and kick over this toxic dream again.

…………

"Get the bastards off the foredeck... Keep the boom loaded and tighten the hooks..."

"Power up the engine! We have to drag this son of a bitch out today!"

Despite the splashing water, the captain still had his pipe in his mouth, completely unaware that the flame in the pipe had long since gone out and that a pool of mud had accumulated in the pipe.

At this moment, all the firelight was focused on his basalt-like pupils, bursting out angrily in all directions as he looked, finally fixing on the middle-aged man who was tightly hugging the mast.

He grabbed the middle-aged man's arm and shoved his frail opponent to the boat door like he was grabbing a chick.

"If you dare to scoop up nothing again, I'll stuff you into a steam oven!"

The middle-aged man, unable to struggle, clutched his wallet tightly to his arm and said firmly, "There's no way I'm wrong! According to the calculations, the target is right below these coordinates. Once we pull it up, we'll have everything!"

The captain angrily released his grip, glanced worriedly at his beloved ship, which was shrouded in smoke and struggling with the underwater salvage, and stood back at the bow, staring intently at the murky sea.

The middle-aged man breathed a sigh of relief and quickly stepped out of the cabin, glancing furtively at the water, but his earlier confidence had vanished. He tucked his wallet away from the sea and hurriedly asked a shirtless young man with spiky hair.

"Young man, are you sure you found the shipwreck underwater?"

The spiky-haired man, wiping his hair with a towel, answered decisively, "That's right, I couldn't be mistaken about such a big ship. The wrecked ship lay dark on the bottom of the water, and I personally fastened the anti-slip hinges."

The middle-aged man then regained his composure and held his breath, waiting for the result.

Suddenly, a hideous sailor ran out of the wheelhouse and shouted in a toothless, slurred voice, "The boom is going to break! Get down!"

Before the words were finished, the hinge, which had been stretched to its limit and was still struggling, suddenly snapped. Under the force, the entire ship began to rock violently back and forth, like a wild horse trying to throw the people on the deck into the sea. Soon, everyone heard a clear splash.

After a violent rocking motion, the captain, soaked to the bone, scrambled to his feet and kicked the ugly sailor in the buttocks.

"Idiot, how did you do that?!"

The captain looked at the twisted and deformed crane with heartache and roared, "Hurry up and count the number of people! I'm going to double the fare for all of them! Double it for everyone!"

The shabby passengers on the ship, who had just shown expressions of relief, now looked at each other with unease as if they had heard terrible news, and silently lowered their heads.

The ugly sailor stammered as he finished counting the decks, then went back into the cabin. He didn't come out for a while, and then gave a docile and cautious report.

"Captain, we had 36 people on board, but now we're one short. Someone fell into the water."

The middle-aged man got up from the ground and immediately started shouting.

"It's that young man! He was just in front of me!"

The captain, his leather boots treading on the sewage on the deck, grabbed the middle-aged man by the neck before the water even hit the ground.

"This is what you called 'valuable stuff'?! My Katyns almost sank!!!"

The middle-aged man hurriedly explained, "You must believe me! This is where the Lauton sank. The federal government is willing to pay at least two million pounds in reward if anything from the ship can be salvaged! It's absolutely true!"

The captain was furious, spitting as he roared.

"I should never have believed you, you liar! Scum! Worm! I should have learned my lesson long ago. On this high seas, whether you run into Federation lackeys or believe a fool like Morden, it's all utter disaster! Besides, I'm not even afraid of those jackals from the Navigator's Alliance, and I don't need to live off Federation rewards!"

He shouted in a fit of rage, "Enough! Enough! I don't believe your nonsense anymore! If you can't pay enough for the boat fare to get them to their destination, I'll throw them all back into the sea right now!"

The captain spat on the ground. "You bunch of charlatans, pretending to be down-on-your-luck gentlemen, fugitive merchants, and servants of respectable families! You're nothing but a pack of stray dogs! Old Sea Dog, stop the ship immediately!"

The smoke on the ship's roof slowly dissipated, and the entire ship anchored on the sun-drenched sea. The relentless heat of the sun beat down on the deck and cabins, setting the stage for a protracted standoff.

The middle-aged man took a deep breath, and courage slowly returned to his pale, anemic face, but he spoke in a humble tone.

“Captain, this location was personally calculated by Professor Craven, there's absolutely no problem. But I know that what we can't see right now can't compensate for your loss. I'm willing to offer something else in exchange to guarantee that this voyage will be profitable for you…”

He slowly opened his carefully protected wallet, first taking out a piece of draft paper covered with dense writing, on the top of which a series of latitude and longitude coordinates were repeatedly traced in black pen.

Then he pulled out an ID card, a pen, a stack of blurry photos, and finally took out a printed document from a hidden compartment.

He unfurled the printed document, his face ashen, and said in a low voice, "I am a federal fugitive, worth at least two hundred thousand pounds alive. In exchange for transporting us to our destination... you should be able to rest easy now, right?"

The ragged passengers on deck remained silent, watching everything with helpless expressions.

The tension intensified when suddenly a splashing sound rose from the sea, and a loud voice shouted, "Quick, throw a rope and pull me up with it!"

The hedgehog-haired boy, under the watchful eyes of everyone, parted the waves and chased after the drifting boat, shouting excitedly.

I think I've retrieved something!