Blackstone Code-Chapter 673: Escaped

Sailing on the sea isn’t always a pleasant experience, especially for those prone to seasickness.

The man responsible for overseeing the money was gripping the ship’s railing tightly, his face pale, fingers nearly digging holes into the steel.

Once he managed to suppress his urge to vomit again, he glanced at a nearby officer and moved toward him. “You must protect this money at all costs!”

His expression was twisted—partly from the nausea returning due to the waves, and partly because the money simply could not be lost.

It might have looked like multiple parties contributed to the sum, but in reality, it all came from the Merrick Consortium.

Soren provided five million, but that was essentially a prepayment for future goods—it was still Merrick’s money.

The federal government contributed three million, but that came from export subsidies originally allocated to Merrick’s subsidiaries. That amount was reallocated here, meaning those subsidiaries would now forgo subsidies at customs until the deferred amount reached three million.

Adding Merrick’s own eight million, the entire sum of sixteen million was effectively their money.

This maneuver was meant to ease financial pressure on the consortium’s accounts.

To the consortium’s board, these were just sailors, and the goods were made from basic raw materials—far from worth sixteen million. They’d rather the crew die and pay each family a large compensation—say, a hundred thousand per person—still a fraction of the ransom. Why did these people suddenly become worth sixteen million?

Before he departed, the board repeatedly told him: protect the money. The people and cargo could be sacrificed if necessary, but the money must be preserved.

The officer gave him a side glance and said sternly, “We’ll do our best.” His face showed his contempt—disgust at such cold-heartedness.

Soldiers are simple—not stupid, but direct in their likes and dislikes. They don’t pretend to care while harboring contempt—though this doesn’t include Defense Department officers.

At that moment, the sixteen million was packed into eight crates, tied to a buoy.

Their warship was stationed far from the rendezvous point. If several warships appeared together, the pirates might kill the hostages and flee—exactly what the Merrick board was willing to risk.

The plan was simple: the negotiator would bring the money, confirm the hostages were unharmed, and return with them or signal the navy, which would then rush in.

The task force didn’t believe the pirate boats could outrun warships. Naval analysts judged that the pirates likely had a larger ship hidden behind the island—they couldn’t possibly rely on speedboats in open seas.

Nearshore waters are manageable for speedboats, but beyond the continental shelf, the waves grow treacherous. Even on clear days, a bit of wind can stir up waves several meters high.

Speedboats are unfit for open-sea travel. The pirates likely had a vessel or base hidden on or behind the island. In any case, they couldn’t escape.

To ensure the safety of the negotiator, someone proposed tying the money to a buoy, towing it behind a small boat. If the pirates didn’t play fair, it wouldn’t be easy to get the money immediately.

This setup ensured the negotiator’s safety—they wouldn’t be killed on the spot. If the pirates agreed to the deal, they could just reel in the rope and pull the money over.

The proposal was unanimously approved: safe, technically not a breach of agreement, and flexible.

Soon, a small boat towing the buoy left the fleet. As it disappeared on the horizon, everyone’s tension rose.

After a while, a lookout stationed high on the island spotted the approaching boat.

It wasn’t tiny, but compared to a warship or freighter, it was small.

He whistled sharply. The sound multiplied. Connie, who’d been dozing under the sun, was kicked awake.

He sat up, smacking his lips, groggily looking around at the row of tied-up crewmates. He spat out some stale saliva and stood lazily.

These past few days had been his most relaxed in a while. The pirates weren’t nearly as terrifying as people had imagined.

They hadn’t killed anyone. They hadn’t mistreated them. In fact, they’d been pretty decent—providing necessities like fresh water and food. No work was required. Just eat and sleep all day—no worries at all.

Now that someone had come to deliver the ransom, some crew members didn’t sound excited—more like annoyed: Took you long enough.

Connie sighed too. Yeah, what took you so long? But deep down, it was excitement at the sight of hope—not actual resentment.

All the crew were shackled, chained together by iron cuffs. Two pirates led them toward the beach.

Connie’s eyes darted around nervously. After a moment, he asked the person in front of him, “Did you notice? There seem to be fewer pirates now.”

The sailor in front of him, whom he knew fairly well, looked around too. “Definitely fewer than yesterday. Maybe they’re hiding, or on the other side of the island?”

Over the past days, they’d often discussed the pirates—like how foolish it was to demand ransom.

Ransom meant exposure. Once they were exposed, how could they possibly escape?

Sixteen million was enough for the company to fund a dedicated task force to hunt them down.

They’d concluded that the pirates must have a big ship hidden behind the island—something fast and ocean-worthy.

Hearing that, Connie didn’t continue the topic.

They stood on the beach as a small black dot on the horizon grew larger—soon, a fishing boat came into view. Fish still hung from its net, showing how hastily it had arrived.

A man in a short-sleeved shirt jumped off the boat, raised both hands, and slowly approached.

“Nice shirt,” Connie muttered. “Probably expensive.”

Despite being a hostage, he showed no concern, casually judging the man sent to rescue them.

The others nodded. Short-sleeved shirts used to be seen as disrespectful to formal attire, but in recent years they’d become fashionable.

In this summer heat, who could stand wearing a full suit—or even a long-sleeved shirt?Two pirates stepped forward and briefly negotiated, then boarded the fishing boat. Moments later, the engine roared to life, and at the same time, the man in the short-sleeved shirt walked over.

“Has anyone among you been killed or injured?” he asked, his concern genuine enough that Connie didn’t make any further sarcastic remarks. Everyone looked around and agreed that the pirates hadn’t been all that bad.

Hearing this, the man let out a sigh of relief.

What followed was the process of verifying the money and releasing the hostages. As the pirates dragged the crates into the island’s sparse jungle and quickly disappeared, the man who came to retrieve the crew turned on his radio.

Soon after, four warships closed in from four directions, surrounding the area—but found no trace of the pirates. It was as if they had completely vanished.

“Could they still be on the island?” the man in charge of overseeing the money was on the verge of losing it, clutching his hair. Sixteen million had vanished right under his nose—he could already imagine what the board would do to him when he returned.

The officer leading the operation frowned. “We’ve searched the entire island and found nothing unusual. There’s no sign of a port on the far side, and no drag marks from anchors near the shallows.”

“Even the observation balloons spotted nothing. It’s like they just disappeared…”

For some, this was undoubtedly a failed rescue—because the money was gone.

Not only that, but the ship’s generators were also partially damaged and couldn’t be delivered immediately.

But for federal society, this was a powerful demonstration of its values—human life is supremely important. Whether people believed it before or will continue to believe it later, in this moment, they believed it.

An unexpected lead soon emerged in the investigation: the pirates may have escaped using a submarine.

This matched the rescued crew’s accounts—people on the island had gradually disappeared, and most had likely left earlier by submarine, leaving only a few behind to collect the ransom and depart.

Because the case now involved submarines—still an unsolved “strategic” threat—the federal leadership gave it unprecedented attention.

Their naval victories over Gephra had been built on the effective use of submarines. If other nations could now deploy them in real military operations, that was a serious concern.

Upon hearing this possibility, the President asked a single question:

“How do we counter the threat submarines pose to us in war?”