Day three.
According to the original itinerary, when the banquet ended, the ship was supposed to dock in the afternoon.
The route schedule stated that at three in the afternoon on the third day, they would arrive at the port, and the guests could disembark, ending this three-day social voyage at sea.
Many people stood on the deck, staring at the horizon, waiting for land to appear in their field of vision.
Clearly, there was no land in sight.
The ship kept drifting on the sea, showing no intention of docking at all.
The steady, continuous roar of the engine hummed as the hull smoothly cut through the sea, heading in some unknown direction.
There was nothing on the sea but water.
Boundless, the sea stretched out like a giant blanket, carrying the ship on its surface, cutting off everyone aboard from solid ground.
Most of the younger guests didn't think much of it.
Some were still sunbathing on the deck, enjoying the pleasure of drinking and chatting.
Champagne continued to flow, music continued to play, waiters still carried trays through the crowd, as if nothing had changed.
But a few sharp-eyed individuals sensed something was wrong.
Several people from political circles had already started questioning the organizers, their voices growing louder, their expressions increasingly impatient.
"Why haven't we docked yet? The schedule says we should have arrived at the port at three this afternoon—it's already three hours past."
"Weather conditions, not suitable for returning," the staff member replied with an apologetic smile.
"Weather conditions?" the politician sneered, raising a hand to point at the cloudless sky above. "You really dare to come up with excuses."
"I have a flight to catch tomorrow for a business trip. Why isn't the ship docking?" another person squeezed in, his suit and tie askew, sweat beading on his forehead.
More and more people began to gather around, voices rising and falling, shifting from questions to accusations, and from accusations into angry shouts.
The originally relaxed atmosphere in the banquet hall shattered like a thin layer of ice, revealing nothing but restlessness and anxiety beneath.
The situation was starting to go downhill.
Most people still didn't understand the full picture.
But a few sharp individuals on the banquet circuit reacted quickly and went directly to the Visconti family head to negotiate and inquire.
The young family head was cornered in the lounge by a crowd, his face ashen.
He clearly had no idea about this either. The moment he sensed something was wrong, the Visconti family head realized he had been set up.
Of course, the Visconti family head wouldn't want anything to happen to the ship. If an accident occurred, these guests could crush him with a snap of their fingers.
But at this moment, no one on site listened to his commands.
Hidden members of various factions, dressed in the same uniforms as regular staff, mingled among the waiters and crew, holding keys and access to all cabins on the ship.
While most guests were still questioning the staff in the banquet hall, they had already silently secured the main passages leading to the deck.
On the ship, the younger members and children remained completely unaware of what was happening.
As for the key players—
Wealthy businessmen, politicians, and family power holders all received notifications or were forced at gunpoint to gather on a deck.
Within an hour, the impeccably dressed rich had clustered together on the deck, their clothing flapping loudly in the sea breeze.
The same emotion was written on every face: unease.
Some tried to discuss strategies with those nearby, their voices kept low.
Shen Wenta stood at the edge of the crowd, pulling out his phone to check.
As expected, all signals and networks had been cut off.
He was surprisingly calm.
First, he confirmed that Shen Yi wasn't on this deck, then let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Shen Yi had stayed in her cabin all day and hadn't come out.
To others, her identity didn't seem important. To those who had orchestrated all this, she was just an insignificant footnote, not even on the list.
So those people wouldn't pay attention to someone useless.
Those who were singled out and forced at gunpoint into this place were all powerful figures with influence.
The planners had clearly done their homework before boarding.
In the afternoon, the sky over the sea was gradually darkening.
The sun shifted from golden-red to a deep crimson, then sank beneath the horizon, leaving behind a gray-blue dusk.
The sea breeze was colder than in the daytime, carrying a penetrating chill against the skin.
A man in a dark suit walked to the center of the deck. His posture was composed, with a row of people in black uniforms standing behind him.
The holsters at each of their waists bulged slightly.
"I believe that everyone who has made it here is a figure of importance in your respective countries," the man's voice came through a portable microphone. "We don't want to waste time either."
He gave a slight smile.
"To welcome your arrival, we have specially drawn up a list of key individuals who need to stay behind to cooperate with our mission."
"As for the rest of you, do you want to leave?"
At first, no one answered.
On the deck, only the sound of the sea wind and the vibration of the ship remained.
People exchanged uneasy glances, none daring to speak first.
Until a gunshot shattered the silence of the sea.
The sound of the shell casing hitting the ground was crisp and sharp.
Fear swept over the entire deck instantly.
"Yes," the first voice rang out, trembling with tears.
"We want to leave."
"Let us go—I still have children..."
Voices rose one after another, turning into a tidal wave.
Everyone knew that "staying behind" meant death. No one wanted to stay.
The man sent to speak maintained a genial smile. What followed unfolded quickly.
Group after group of wealthy businessmen were called into private rooms, emerging with varied expressions.
Many were forced to sign agreements—contracts of various forms that entailed transferring benefits and sharing intelligence, blatantly extortionate demands.
Clearly, the representatives of those government factions had their documents ready in advance, only waiting for signatures and fingerprints.
Refuse to sign?
With a gun pressed to your head, who would dare refuse?
Sui Ning also went in to sign an agreement. When he came out, he still looked relaxed, even bending down to adjust his cuff.
He was indifferent to signing such things. If anything, it gave him a bit of satisfaction to see his family's relatives squirm.
The internal strife in the Sui family had started after his parents died unexpectedly when he was fifteen. He didn't care much about the family's honor. The benefits being forcibly transferred were his uncles' and cousins' concerns, not his.
In the twilight, Shen Wonta leaned against the railing. His clothes fluttered in the sea breeze. His expression was grim, his thoughts unreadable.
"Sui Ning."
He called out to him.
