Chapter 65-Easier than expected

Chapter 65: 65-Easier than expected

Thirty-plus armed men in a military-grade submarine with enough firepower to threaten an ordinary ship. She figured they were navy seal before the apocalypse or people capable of accessing submarines before the former world fell.

Unfortunately for them, this was not an ordinary ship. A faint, humorless smile touched Aymara’s lips. They had chosen the wrong target.

She glanced toward the dining area behind her. Nathaniel was still there, waiting for her. He hadn’t taken a bite even though she’d urged him to.

The thought of his worried expression flashed through her mind. Those men had frightened him, made him anxious when she’d made it her mission to make him happy. Aymara’s smile disappeared.

"System."

[Awaiting command, Host.]

Her eyes settled on the red marker approaching her ship. "Give me a complete analysis of their capabilities."

The blue screen flickered.

[Analyzing...]

Aymara stood perfectly still. The playful, flustered woman who had been blushing over Nathaniel only minutes ago was nowhere to be seen.

In her place stood someone much colder, someone who had spent days preparing for exactly this kind of situation and she intended to make sure those thirty men regretted coming anywhere near her ship.

The submarine continued advancing, its dark hull cleaving through the ocean like a wounded leviathan.

Aymara stood on the upper deck, one hand resting lightly against the railing as the enormous vessel finally broke the surface.

Water thundered from its metal hull in silver sheets, streaming down its sides as the submarine rose higher and higher until its upper section emerged completely.

It was massive and heavily armed. Yet beneath the cascading seawater, something about it seemed wrong.

A low vibration shivered across the surface, uneven and ragged, nothing like the steady thrum of a healthy engine. Near the stern, a thin ribbon of bubbles leaked from the hull and vanished into the waves.

One section sat slightly lower than the rest, as though the submarine were carrying a burden it could not quite hide.

Aymara noticed every detail and stored it away.

The hatch opened with a metallic groan, and a man climbed out first. He appeared to be in his late fifties, perhaps early sixties, with broad shoulders, a weathered face, and the rigid posture of someone who had spent most of his life commanding others.

His dark military uniform was worn but surprisingly well maintained, and several insignia remained visible despite the years of chaos.

Behind him, more men emerged, one after another. More than thirty armed men now crowded the submarine’s deck, weapons in hand as they surveyed Aymara’s cruise ship.

The man at the front raised a megaphone. His voice boomed across the water.

"Attention!" he spoke.

Aymara didn’t move or react. She had experienced such incidents in her past, this time, she was ready.

The man continued. "We have come in peace."

Aymara’s eyebrow lifted. Peace? Thirty-plus armed men had surfaced beside her ship in a military submarine while armed to the teeth, and this man had chosen to begin with a lie. She filed that away.

The man continued speaking. "We have no intention of harming anyone unnecessarily. We are survivors, just like you," he paused dramatically. "Our people have endured enough suffering since the old world fell. There is no reason for unnecessary bloodshed."

Aymara leaned against the railing. It was a rehearsed appeal to sympathy, followed by a demand. It was so predictable.

The man’s expression hardened. "We know you have supplies aboard this vessel. With the size of the ship, food, water, fuel and medicine must be in plenty.

Aymara’s eyes narrowed slightly. So they had been watching her, that much was clear.

"We are willing to offer you protection."

Protection? From what? From the men currently aiming weapons at her ship?

Aymara kept her face still. There was no reason to reward incompetence with visible amusement.

The man raised the megaphone again. "All we require is simple," he pointed toward her ship. "Surrender the cruise ship and all its supplies and you’ll live!"

Aymara stared at him as the area grew silent. For several seconds, she let the demand hang between them.

It was not because she was considering it, but because silence made people reveal how badly they needed an answer. Then a faint, humorless smile touched her lips.

Hahaha. Hahaha.

Surrender her ship? The ship she had spent everything preparing? The ship she had filled with enough resources to survive the apocalypse for years? The ship where Nathaniel was currently waiting for her?

They had surfaced beside her home and calmly demanded that she hand it over.

Bold, perhaps. But boldness without leverage was merely a slower form of stupidity.

The man seemed to interpret her silence as hesitation. "You will be allowed to leave with your life," he added.

Aymara tilted her head. "Oh?"

Her voice carried across the water through the ship’s external speakers.

The man’s eyebrows rose. She had finally responded. He was under the impression that they had intimidated the owner of the ship.

Aymara stepped forward. Her white dress stirred in the sea breeze, its fabric whispering around her legs, while the pearl bracelet around her wrist flashed in the sunlight. She walked toward the railing until she was clearly visible from the submarine.

The moment the men saw her, the atmosphere changed. Several exchanged surprised looks, one laughed with amusement and another nudged the man beside him.

"It’s a woman."

"A young woman?"

"You’re kidding."

A few men began chuckling.

The former general, the leader, stared at Aymara. His expression shifted from surprise to amusement, then to a satisfaction that made Aymara’s eyes grow colder.

He looked her over as though he had just discovered that the enormous ship they had spent all that time approaching was being commanded by someone incapable of defending it.

He had mistaken her appearance for an intelligence report. That was his first error.

"Well," he said into the megaphone, a smile spreading across his face. "This is certainly going to be easier than expected."

The men behind him laughed. One raised his weapon and another called out, "We got this one in the bag!"

"Easy haul!"

"Looks like we won’t even have to fight!"

Their laughter rolled across the submarine and scattered over the water.

Aymara simply watched them. She leaned one elbow against the railing, her expression completely calm. If someone had looked closely, they might have noticed the faint twitch at the corner of her mouth.

She was assessing them: weapons, spacing, command structure, blind spots, escape routes. Thirty men, one officer, a submarine whose systems were already being mapped beneath the hull.

The uneven vibration continued beneath the deck. A faint metallic groan shuddered through the water, followed by another brief trail of bubbles near the stern. The men either didn’t notice or had grown accustomed to the sounds. Aymara did not.

The former general lifted his megaphone again. "Miss, I suggest you don’t make this difficult."

Difficult? She hadn’t done anything yet. Aymara raised an eyebrow. "You have five minutes."

The men went quiet and the general blinked. "What?"

"Five minutes," she glanced at the submarine. "That’s how long you have to leave."

A few seconds of silence passed as the men processed her words then laughter erupted from the men.

The general actually lowered his head as though trying to contain his amusement. One of his men laughed so hard he had to grab another man’s shoulder.

"Did she just threaten us?"

"Five minutes?"

"Who does she think she is?"

’Let them laugh,’ Aymara thought. People laughed most freely when they believed the outcome had already been decided.

Another man raised his gun toward Aymara. The others followed. Within seconds, several weapons were pointed directly at her.

Aymara didn’t flinch. She counted the barrels instead. Though she gave off a lazy outer appearance, she was fully focused.

The general watched her for a moment before his smile widened. "You’re either very brave or you don’t understand your situation."

"I understand it perfectly."

"Do you?" He gestured toward his men. "We have over thirty armed men."

Aymara said nothing.

"We have a military-grade submarine," he boasted, "We have weapons capable of destroying your ship."

Aymara’s gaze drifted lazily toward the weapons, then returned to him. "And yet you’re still standing there talking instead of leaving with your life."

The general’s smile faded slightly.

Aymara’s voice remained calm. "You should have left when I gave you the chance," she said. "Don’t blame me for being rude."