Chapter 2: Horror Cruise (Part 1)
Passenger: Ryan Knox
Route: Hunchun to Vladivostok
Departure Date: 09/20
Departure Time: 12:00
Vessel: The Rose
Seat: Cabin BF-3, Deck 4, Passenger Area
This was my first time on a cruise ship. I never imagined something this enormous—it was like a mobile palace at sea.
For this voyage, I'd traveled to the northeast a day early and boarded at the designated time. It was noon, and the port was bustling with people. Everything looked perfectly normal. People were even admiring the Rose with envy.
They could never have imagined that in a few hours, this luxury vessel would transform into a full-blown horror cruise.
I passed through security, had my ticket checked, and followed a steward to the second-floor restaurant. Only then did I truly appreciate the ship's opulence.
The restaurant was magnificently decorated with a spacious layout, and several Renaissance master paintings hung on the walls—obviously genuine masterpieces.
The buffet area offered Chinese, Western, Japanese, Korean cuisine, plus all kinds of desserts and beverages, free for the taking. But my mind was entirely elsewhere. Ever since boarding, I'd been observing the other passengers.
Because I knew that every diner here would soon be my potential enemy. They might look refined and civilized now, but once the killing started, these people would instantly become beasts.
I scrutinized every face I saw. Most were strangers, but a few looked familiar—survivors from the previous high-speed rail trip. But the face I was looking for was nowhere to be seen.
That cold, cruel face with a scar running across his cheek like a zombie.
After the meal, a middle-aged man in uniform with an imposing presence entered the restaurant and announced: "Good afternoon, passengers. I'm Captain Qiu, commanding officer of the Rose. Allow me to brief you on this voyage."
The previously noisy restaurant fell silent.
"The Rose is a mid-sized cruise ship, 258 meters long, 29 meters wide, with 9 decks. Facilities include a fitness area, swimming pool, cinema, and even a golf course—all available for your enjoyment during the journey. Of course, these are also combat zones where passengers may fight at will."
"There are two combat-free zones on this ship: the captain's cabin on the top deck and the medical bay on the lowest deck. Passengers who wish to withdraw or are injured may seek help there. As usual, this also means forfeiture of qualification. Anyone who falls overboard is also disqualified."
"This voyage from Hunchun to Vladivostok takes approximately five hours. The Rose travels at 23 knots and will enter the Sea of Japan—international waters—in about fifty minutes, at which point the trip officially begins. Please listen for the ship's broadcast. No combat is permitted in any zone before the broadcast announcement, or you will be disqualified."
"Finally, the reward policy: 193 passengers are aboard. Base reward: eight hundred thousand yuan. Each additional ticket stub collected earns an extra hundred and fifty thousand, with no upper limit. Now, please return to your assigned cabins and await the broadcast. Good luck."
The captain departed. The other passengers gradually returned to their cabins according to their ticket assignments. One young man in the restaurant suddenly went into a frenzy, grabbing people's clothes and shouting: "What qualification? What combat? What withdrawal? What's he talking about? Isn't this just a lucky draw trip from some shopping app?"
I said nothing. This guy was like me last time—"fresh blood" brought in by the organizers to pad the numbers.
No one would take care of a newcomer. On the contrary, to these people, he was nothing but a piece of fresh meat—I could only wish him luck.
Following my ticket, I headed to my cabin on the fourth deck, passenger area, Cabin BF-3. It was a shared double cabin near the deck, with a window overlooking the ocean. My roommate was already inside, but instead of enjoying the view, he was sitting on his bunk reading a book.
When he saw me enter, he pushed up the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose and gave me a friendly expression, pointing at the opposite bunk. "Please, sit down."
I couldn't help but feel a chill. In the real world, someone wearing glasses might be an intellectual, but on this trip, people with glasses were mostly psychopaths. That teacher with the black-framed glasses from the last train ride was a complete lunatic—his whole "Cell Block Four" crew were lunatics.
And this guy looked even more refined, even more cultured. Needless to say, when he snapped, his psychopathy would be even worse. I couldn't believe I'd been assigned a cabin with someone like this.
Seeing me standing motionless, he urged more enthusiastically: "Really, it's fine, sit down."
I glanced at the book in his hands. The title was bizarre: "Abnormal Psychology."
My God, I was absolutely certain that the moment the broadcast sounded, this guy would be the first to lunge at me and bite through my throat. It wasn't that I feared him, but I really didn't want to share a room with such a beast.
So I gave an awkward smile: "No thanks, the cabin air is a bit stuffy. I'll go get some fresh air on deck."
He tried to make me stay, but I quickly backed out, closed the cabin door, and let out a long breath.
I could sense he was eager to show me goodwill, but on a trip where "hell is other people," the more someone tried to ingratiate themselves, the more chilling it was.
I wandered up to the deck. There was hardly anyone on this level—which made sense, with the slaughter about to begin, everyone was conserving their energy in various ways. Nobody would be in the mood for sightseeing.
But surprisingly, there was an old man standing on deck. He was maybe five-foot-two, with a wizened frame, white hair and beard, wearing a loose-fitting cloth robe that flapped in the wind. He was currently squinting at the seascape with apparent appreciation.
Surprised, I walked over and asked tentatively: "Sir, are you sure you're on the right ship?"
"Oh?" He turned around rather slowly. "I think so. Isn't this the cruise from Hunchun to Vladivostok?"
"It is, but..." I frowned. "Do you know what's about to happen on this ship?"
"Ohoho..." The old man chuckled with a wheeze. "Don't worry about me, young man. This isn't my first time participating in this game."
My heart skipped a beat!
This dried-up old man was actually a survivor from a previous Death Trip?!
But how was that possible?
"Young man, you're a good person," the old man nodded at me. "Good luck to you."
If this old man had survived more than one Death Trip, he must have something special about him. Maybe he knew where Drake was. So I asked: "Sir, I'd like to ask you about someone. Do you know if he's on this ship?"
"My memory's not what it used to be—too many names to keep track of at my age." He tapped his head. "If you're looking for information on someone, find Selene. She knows a lot of people's backgrounds. She might know."
"Selene? Where is she?" I perked up immediately.
The old man motioned with his lips: "She should be in the fitness area. I saw her when I passed by earlier."
I thanked him and ran toward the fitness area. The old man called after me: "Be careful what you say—she has quite a temper."
I pushed open the fitness area door, only to find a young woman working out alone in the massive gym. She wore a tight tank top and hot pants, doing dumbbell warm-ups. Every movement perfectly displayed her lithe, curvaceous figure. Transparent drops of sweat rolled down her skin, reflecting the overhead lights like tiny crystals.