[Eden City - Hub Port Pier Container Handling Area]

Most of Eden City's docks were built at different stages during land reclamation projects, with water levels fluctuating dramatically. Later, other capital interests meddled with shipping, leaving dock construction in a very awkward phase.

Many forces are entrenched here.

Smugglers, shipping companies, maritime departments, other local large enterprises, and gangs growing as subsidiaries.

John found the corresponding warehouse door number on the container-filled docks using Mr. Vito's email address.

Silver Rider 577 crossed over the yellow spray marks, resting on the blurred landmark lines.

The colossal lifting devices were embedded into the earth.

Hook locks and hydraulic pulley systems were like sky-reaching behemoths, sprawling over the containers, beneath them were industrial wastewater and the intertwined imprints of tires.

If the Eastern factories of Eden City emphasize high-tech, fully automated exquisite beauty.

The dock area represents the most primitive heavy industrial technology.

Surging power, pure mechanical levers, and the squalor and stench left by technology were especially evident on the faces of workers adorned with mechanical prosthetics and apathetic expressions.

Deeper in the loading area, there is a connecting ship.

It will take the crew to the real ocean freight vessel.

John spotted a black van.

Angelica had arrived at the transfer site based on the retreat route arranged by Vito.

She had taken medication and fell into a deep sleep.

The van had a complete medical setup.

Including the driver, four rescue team members were in charge, each had a behavioral chip installed to ensure no memory during this period.

The warehouse roller door was half-way up.

Several crew members leaned against the workroom, smoking e-cigarettes, wearing vests and hydrophobic work pants, casting scrutinizing glances at Angelica's van.

John stepped forward but was blocked by the sailor with an arm covered in tattoos.

"I'm not interested in trouble, who's the 'Anchor'?"

The sailors exchanged looks but didn't make way.

This allowed John to see half of the workshop:

Inside, there was a small dock with moored speedboats, lifting tools, and cars under repair. Toolboxes and folding metal tables looked like temporary setups.

A dark-skinned European man obstructed John's view.

"Who introduced you here?"

"Vito Russell."

"Wait."

Their tone wasn't friendly, voices raspy.

The leader left for a few minutes and returned with a more imposing man - over two meters tall, approaching in black army boots.

He wore a hydrophobic t-shirt, similar to Old America's military training uniforms, with sleeves and collar filled out tautly.

[Name: Quade Green [Anchor]]

[Affiliation: Raven International Ocean Freight Company]

[Scan: Alloy Skeleton [Isaac Military Industry], secondary heart, amphibious lungs, water vortex foot kits, etc.]

"Are you the captain?"

John had already gathered intelligence through scanning.

Captain Quade did not answer, his eyes deeply set, seemingly always squinting, fierce-looking.

John produced the gold ring.

The other's eyes finally showed a change, reaching to take it, but missed at the last second.

John withdrew his hand, intentionally keeping silent.

Captain Quade stared at him, waving his hand. The surrounding crew members got up from their relaxed positions, passed between the two, heading towards the van.

"We don't like to talk much ashore."

He explained, his voice equally raspy.

Sailors on ocean-going ferries often install voice software, like soft magnets embedded in their throats, making it convenient to speak through individual voice channels within the ship's signal coverage area.

Some seamen even experienced temporary aphasia after long voyages, with some directly removing their vocal cords, replacing them with pure voice software to avoid common seamen organ diseases.

Now outside the team channel, speaking with their natural voice was very unnatural.

There are many similar iconic prosthetic bodies.

Including Quade Green, everyone on site had custom cochleae to adapt to the overwhelming ocean waves.

The foot prosthetics enabled them to walk steadily on decks and in cabins, even embedding into floors and walls to complete high-difficulty repairs and physical tasks.

Captain Quade took the heavy gold ring, examining it under natural light, uncertain how he judged its authenticity.

Biu, Biu!

John suddenly heard silenced gunshots.

He activated Sianweistan to teleport beside the van, had a gun pressed to the head of one of the crew members.

But it was too late.

Quade's crew had killed the accompanying driver and medical personnel.

They were about to move Angelica's medical stretcher but were interrupted by John's threatening gesture, forced into silent glances at their leader.

"This is standard procedure."

Captain Quade's raspy voice came from afar.

"Unless you think their lives are more important than the girl in the van."

His expression remained unchanged, like the weathered, faded lifebuoy by the ship's side, his skin covered with muscular ravines and wind-blown creases.

"These people wear chips from medical institutions, functioning like precisely located mobile cameras, I'm also taking a risk here, with the trail ending here, she and we can safely leave Eden City!"

Quade kept a close watch on John until he lowered his gun.

The crew silently completed their tasks, their strong arms steadily lowering the medical stretcher without leaving wheel marks on the ground, directly delivering it onto the ferry connecting ship in the freight area.

Quade did not speak further with John.

John even doubted:

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