86: A minefield of death? Walking on flat ground! Dancing right under the nose of death!

Pitch black, deep, silent.

This was the fringe area of the Yangtze River Estuary, the terminus of the old era's busy shipping lanes, and now a veritable "Steel Graveyard."

The ten-thousand-ton freighters that once flowed endlessly now formed undulating steel mountains on the riverbed, covered in silt and shellfish.

Between the thick black silt and the tangled, hair-like aquatic weeds.

Countless Magnetic Induction Mines, still active, hung suspended in the water like silent black tumors.

They swayed slightly with the undercurrent, like countless eyes opened by the Reaper, silently watching over this sea of death.

And within this suffocating darkness and danger.

A massive shadow, even darker than the surrounding seawater, was gliding silently through.

That was the black iron ghost, which had activated its [Phantom Stealth] mode.

The irritable beast that once relied on the roar of its diesel engine and charged headlong was gone.

Now, it resembled a Ghost Ray gliding gracefully in the abyss.

The Bioactive Armor covering the entire vessel was micro-adjusting its surface texture thousands of times per second.

Perfectly "smoothing out" the water flow fluctuations generated by its movement.

Even the powerful Magnetohydrodynamic Thrusters no longer expelled violent turbulence.

Instead, they produced laminar flow, processed by complex fairings, gliding through the Minefield like silk.

It traversed the edge of death without even alerting the extremely sensitive Magnetic Fuses.

Inside the hull, all lighting had been switched to dark red, low-visibility Tactical Lights to accommodate the Deep-Dive Stealth Mode.

This dim red light illuminated the cold metal bulkheads, making them resemble the inner walls of some giant beast's blood vessels, exuding a repressed and mysterious atmosphere.

In the engine room, Old Chen was not nervously staring at the instrument panel as usual.

He was sitting with his legs crossed on a folding chair that hadn't even been secured yet.

In his hand, he held his recovered stainless steel rice bowl, which contained half a bowl of watered-down cheap liquor.

"Tsk, now this is the life..."

Old Chen narrowed his eyes, listening to the almost inaudible hum of the Reactor, and contentedly whistled an off-key tune:

"No vibration, no noise, not even a wobble.

If it weren't for the glaring red light, I'd think I was relaxing in a Nursing Home on shore."

He looked at the output curve on the screen, which was as smooth as a dead person's electrocardiogram.

He couldn't help but reach out and pat the cold machine casing beside him, just like patting a docile old horse.

The core, upgraded with Rhenium-Nickel Alloy, was now running incredibly smoothly.

Even in this complex deep-sea environment.

It maintained astonishing stability, continuously supplying the entire vessel with nearly infinite energy.

Meanwhile, the atmosphere in the upper Command cabin was even quieter.

Jiang Ran leaned back in the large Captain's Chair, his eyes slightly closed, but his brow still faintly furrowed.

The long duration of Nerve Connection was not without cost.

Although the Lv5 Bio-Mechanical Core could share most of the data processing load.

The feeling of massive amounts of information directly washing over his Cerebral Cortex still left his nerve in a state of strained fatigue.

Like a rubber band stretched to its limit, constantly taut.

"zero, take over navigation control. Maintain current speed and depth."

Jiang Ran did not open his eyes, merely issuing the command in his mind.

"Received, Commander.

At this speed, we will arrive at the edge of the 'Leviathans Lair' in one hour."

As the command was handed over, the complex data stream that constantly lingered in his mind finally receded.

Jiang Ran let out a long breath, feeling as if a heavy burden had been lifted.

He opened his eyes and looked at the Holographic Nautical Chart before him, which seemed exceptionally quiet at the moment.

At the far end of the chart, a massive red skull marker was quietly blinking. That was the center of the storm.

And now, it was the final calm before the storm.

Jiang Ran was about to close his eyes again to rest when a slight stinging sensation on the back of his right hand made him instinctively look down.

It was a cut he had accidentally gotten from a sharp piece of Aviation Aluminum Alloy while dismantling the Gunboat Wreckage earlier.

The wound was not deep; it hadn't even oozed much blood, merely tearing up a layer of skin.

For Jiang Ran, who possessed the Abyssal Walker Physique and could withstand radiation and strong acids, this injury barely counted as a scrape.

If he wished, the Active Cells in his body could heal it in ten minutes without leaving a scar.

"It's nothing serious..." Jiang Ran casually shook his hand, ready to ignore it.

A faint smell of alcohol, sharp and cool, suddenly.

Suddenly wafted into his nostrils, driving away the stuffy smell of oil and metal around him.

A slender figure blocked the dim red light overhead.

Su Qingyu had walked over at some point, carrying a Portable First-Aid Kit.

She didn't speak, nor did she ask for Jiang Ran's opinion, kneeling directly beside the Command Chair.

She extended a hand and, without asking, supported Jiang Ran's injured right hand.

"Don't move."

Two simple words, carrying the unquestionable authority unique to a doctor.

Jiang Ran was stunned. His body's instinctive defense mechanism made him subconsciously want to pull his hand back.

But upon feeling the warmth emanating from her palm, his taut muscles miraculously relaxed.

Under the dim red light, Su Qingyu lowered her head, her expression as focused as if she were performing delicate surgery.

Using tweezers, she picked up a cotton ball soaked in Iodine Solution and gently wiped the insignificant wound.

Her movements were gentle, meticulous, and even carried a trace of carefulness, as if she were treating not a Reinforced Soldier's superficial injury.

But a fragile piece of porcelain.

"For a small wound like this, my Self-Healing Ability can take care of it quickly."

Jiang Ran looked at the strands of hair falling around her face, his voice slightly dry as he tried to break the silence that felt somewhat unfamiliar to him:

"There's no need to waste medical supplies."

"This isn't about supplies."

Su Qingyu's hands didn't stop moving. She kept her head down, not meeting Jiang Ran's eyes, her voice calm yet stubborn:

"Those remnants have been soaking in Radioactive Water for so long; they're covered in Mutated Bacteria and Heavy Metal Residue.

No matter how strong your physique is, it doesn't mean you're invincible."

She discarded the soiled cotton ball, replaced it with a clean piece of gauze, skillfully wrapped it around the back of Jiang Ran's hand, and tied a neat knot.

"You are the brain of this ship, the Commander."

Su Qingyu finally raised her head. Her eyes, usually cool as water, appeared somewhat fervent under the red light.

She looked directly at Jiang Ran, her tone carrying a seriousness and persistence rarely seen in her:

"If you fall, everyone on this ship, including me, will die.

Therefore, any risk of infection, even one in ten thousand, must be eliminated."

Jiang Ran looked at the face so close to him.

Her fingers were still resting on his wrist.

Her fingertips were slightly cool, but the pulse beat transmitted through his skin was so clear and real.

That was the temperature of a living person.

Deep beneath the cold, dark sea, inside this hull forged of steel, this warmth felt exceptionally scorching.

Jiang Ran had always been accustomed to treating himself as a machine, a core component of this Warship.

He had long been used to measuring all relationships by profit and efficiency.

But at this moment, looking into Su Qingyu's eyes, the hard ice block in his heart seemed to crack with a tiny fissure.

This wasn't a transaction, nor was it obedience. This was something called "Bond."

"Done."

Su Qingyu released his hand, packed up the first-aid kit, and returned to her usual efficiency: "Don't get it wet."

Just as she was about to stand up and leave, her wrist was suddenly gently grasped.

Su Qingyu paused, turning her head back.

She saw the man who was usually cold and only knew how to issue killing commands.

He was now looking at his bandaged right hand, a faint but very real curve forming at the corner of his mouth.

"Thank you, Dr. Su."

Jiang Ran's voice was low but deep: "Next time... I will be careful."