"So ten years ago, it was the Shrike who killed Lancelot in the end?"
Lorenzo walked in front and asked casually. Without waiting for Garlon behind him to answer, he continued talking to himself.
"Never mind. Who cares? It was ten years ago."
After listening to Garlon's story, Lorenzo led the others to the deck. Along the way, Lorenzo was thinking about the disputes that happened ten years ago, but he felt relieved in the end.
That was a thing of the past. Although the stories told by Shrike and Garlon were generally the same, they were still different in some details that determined the direction of the stories.
Lorenzo was too lazy to dwell on these things any longer. No matter how bizarre the stories were, they could not escape the limitations of the people who wrote them.
"I'm really looking forward to seeing you back to normal, Floki."
Looking to the side, he saw the crazy Floki tied up tightly. Lorenzo easily lifted him up with one hand and carried him on his shoulder, while Krav behind him supported Garlon all the way up.
Walking out of the darkness, there was no air rolling on the deck, only silent coldness, and bursts of white mist could be seen when I exhaled the air.
A large number of soldiers gathered on the deck to carry out maintenance and vigilance. The lifting platform was opened, and they could now quickly descend to the lower cabin via a cableway, making troop support faster. The command room was surrounded and protected. Notar, with red eyes, controlled the steering wheel.
The mechanical arm on the crane moved slowly, carrying scrap iron and debris and throwing them into the silent deep sea. The huge hook rope swung back and forth above the heads of several people, and also fell on their heads the strong light of the lighting, which illuminated the deck, and some fell to the sea surface, illuminating the dark blue water.
The sea water was clear, and the light spread for several meters before slowly disappearing. Under the light, there was nothing in the water, not even a grain of floating sand.
"It's so quiet..."
Lorenzo looked at all this and couldn't help but sigh.
From Shrike's narration, Lorenzo thought he had a general understanding of this sea area. But when he really went deep into it and felt the terrifying tranquility, even Lorenzo himself couldn't help feeling a little depressed.
It's too quiet.
Compared to staying here, Lorenzo would rather be in the crazy and bloody battlefield. At least there, he could clearly know who his enemies were, see their figures, and hear their voices, instead of here, hiding in the dim light, always vigilant against the strange monsters from the depths.
"How's it going, guys."
Lorenzo stepped into the command room and tried his best to make his voice sound relaxed. If necessary, Lorenzo was also prepared to tell a few jokes to ease the atmosphere.
He had a fake smile on his face and was about to say something, but he froze.
The atmosphere in the command room was so depressing that Lorenzo couldn't even tell a joke, let alone say any trash talk.
Notar stood there like a withered corpse, his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel, his pupils bloodshot, staring straight at the sea shrouded in darkness ahead.
If he hadn't seen his chest rising and falling slightly and his breathing, Lorenzo would have thought Notar was working himself to death at his post.