Chapter 797 - 659: Attack of the Ghost Ship (2)

Immediately, Jeming's keen senses captured a faint scream.

It was the sound of countless individuals mixed together, surging like waves from the direction of the port, rising and falling, but many were so brief that they were drowned out by some louder sound as soon as they were uttered.

Together, they formed a hair-raising background noise.

Harding and Deke hadn't gone far, and they too heard the blast on the street.

Deke's communicator went haywire at the sound of the explosion, a sharp buzzing emanating from the device at his waist.

He grabbed the communicator and pressed the answer button.

"The port is under attack! The port is under attack!" A voice nearly shouted from the other end of the line.

The background mixed with the sounds of explosions, glass shattering, and some deep, rumbling noise like a massive object in motion.

"It's a ghost ship anomaly! Appeared from the sea! It's huge, like a cruise ship! Requesting support! I repeat, requesting support!"

Harding's face changed upon hearing the words "ghost ship anomaly."

After all, the ghost ship anomaly was one of the most troublesome anomaly types in this plane.

This kind of anomaly is unique as it doesn't remain fixed in one place but moves and actively hunts humans, belonging to a highly aggressive type.

Moreover, due to the peculiar nature of these ghost ship anomalies, their appearances are often not isolated, but usually orchestrated by someone.

"Location!" Harding began running towards the direction of the port, with Deke following closely.

"Dock No. 3! It's crashing into the dock buildings! It's moving too fast for ordinary firepower to hit... Boom!!!"

Listening to the burst of noise from the other side, Harding hung up the communicator.

"Be careful, there's an anomaly attack, stay safe!"

Harding shouted towards the bookstore behind him, then turned the corner with Deke, disappearing at the end of the cobblestone road.

Jeming's spiritual power spread out again, his consciousness like an invisible giant eye, hovering over the port, observing everything happening below.

Dock No. 3 had already descended into complete chaos.

And that ghost ship suddenly emerging from the dense fog, Jeming's spiritual power now caught its full view.

It was larger than any cruise ship Jeming had seen before crossing over, its black hull revealing from the mist like a giant beast surfacing from the deep sea.

The ship's surface was covered in rust, as if someone had painted twisted, screaming faces all over the hull using rust as a medium.

Its movement defied the laws of physics.

The massive ship, after crashing into the dock, astonishingly turned with an incomprehensible nimbleness, its bow swaying like a snake, snapping a cargo crane in half.

The broken steel structure fell with a crash, hitting the dock and stirring up a cloud of rubble and dust.

Then it unhesitatingly rushed ashore.

The keel of the ship dragged across the ground, creating a piercing metal-on-metal screech, pulverizing the stones beneath the hull into powder.

Though it was a ship, its speed on land did not diminish in the slightest, charging towards the port's warehouse district.

And everyone who approached it... or perhaps anyone it approached, would be drawn onto the ship.

Jeming's spiritual power clearly 'saw' the process.

A dockworker hid behind a container, at least fifty meters away from the ghost ship.

He merely peeked out a little, and his body felt as if an invisible hand had grabbed him, lifting him off the ground, dragging him towards the black cruise ship.

He struggled and screamed in the air, clawing desperately at the air with his hands.

The moment he was pulled onto the ship's hull, his screams abruptly stopped.

The man's vital signs vanished entirely from Jeming's perception, as if he had never existed.

Similar scenes played out in every corner of the dock.

It's broad daylight, the time when the port is bustling with workers.

Faced with this sudden attack, a large number of victims were drawn away.

Many tried to flee, but the ghost ship was too fast, its speed on land even exceeding that of a car.

Like a black giant bird flying close to the ground, it moved from east to west, from south to north, leaving behind only an empty dock and scattered cargo.

Harding and Deke reached a clearing on the outskirts of the old district.

They were still about five kilometers from the ghost ship, but they could clearly see the massive black silhouette moving through the mist.

Harding stopped, took a deep breath, and withdrew his hands from his pockets.

Eye of the Storm.

He no longer suppressed his own anomalous powers.

Whirlwinds gushed out from around his body within seconds, spreading outward from him as the center.

Deke was pushed back a step by the wind but quickly stabilized, grasping Harding's shoulders with both hands.

The storm enveloped both of them, lifting them off the ground and charging towards the ghost ship at high speed.

The distance of several kilometers was shortened to just dozens of seconds under the storm's propulsion.

Jeming's spiritual power followed them all the while.

He saw Harding continually adjusting the angle and intensity of the storm during the flight, aiming to be in the optimal attack position when they reached the ghost ship above.

This man indeed had rich combat experience, and his control of the Eye of the Storm was far superior to what he had previously demonstrated at the abandoned factory.

Within the port, Harding and the ghost ship clashed head-on.

The Eye of the Storm fully opened in an instant.

Dark clouds surged from Harding's body, covering several hundred meters over the ghost ship in the blink of an eye.

Lightning rolled through the clouds and poured down like a torrential rain, each bolt striking the deck of the ghost ship accurately.

Cracks appeared on the ghost ship's surface under the lightning assault.

The rusted metal plates burst open, revealing the writhing inner wall beneath, as if alive.

When the ghost ship failed to capture the two within its body, it emitted a dispersing energy shock from within the hull.

The shockwave pushed the surrounding air away, creating a temporary vacuum area, causing a momentary disturbance in Harding's storm within the vacuum.

Deke released his grip on Harding's shoulder, and lines of Shadow Snake shot from his palm, entwining around a broken mast of the ghost ship.

The moment the lines touched the mast, they began eroding it, with black patterns spreading downward along the mast, leaving fine cracks on the metal surface wherever they passed.

The ghost ship reacted swiftly.

Its hull gave a fierce shake, flinging the mast along with Deke's lines away.

Deke flipped several times in the air but was firmly caught by Harding's storm.

The exchange between the two sides lasted only moments, yet most of the buildings near Dock No. 3 were already destroyed.

Warehouses collapsed, cranes snapped, and containers scattered like building blocks everywhere.

In a less noticeable shadow on the edge of the dock further away, a man crouched behind a container.

He was dressed plainly, his cap pulled low, obscuring his face.

The man was breathing heavily, as if he had expended too much energy.

In the eyes of others, he seemed like an ordinary man who had just escaped the chaos, yet his eyes weren't on the ghost ship's direction but another direction.

That was the direction of the Spirit Communicator Association.

Jeming's spiritual power instantly locked onto this man.

The man spat, his spit landing amongst the debris on the ground, quickly covered by dust.

He pressed his hand to a small communicator behind his ear, lowering his voice to speak.

"The Spirit Communicator Association arrived quicker than expected. The Eye of the Storm has already engaged the ghost ship. I'm on the east side of Dock No. 3. Position is temporarily safe. Requesting support."

The communicator on the other end remained silent for a few seconds, then a low voice came through:

"...Retreat... We've gathered enough."

The man said nothing more, turned off the communicator, silently sliding out from behind the container, sticking close to the building walls, moving away from the battlefield.

His movements were light, swift, always staying within the shadows cast by buildings, never stepping into the light.

Jeming's spiritual power followed him, watching as he crossed three streets, scaled a wall, and slipped into the back seat of a black car parked in the shadows.

The car started without a sound, disappearing at the edge of the port.