National destiny: Starting with a coffin, building an aircraft carrier is broadcast live globally.

I don't like this metaphor.

Living is a sacred thing, and so is dying.

It is the moment when every drama, whether long or short, dramatic or mundane, comes to an end, a moment that deserves applause, flowers, and an epitaph.

Of course...

Sleeping is sacred.

That is their carbon-based life form's defense against the increase in cosmic entropy, and it is also a time that everyone, regardless of wealth, status, or appearance, must consume in luxury and that absolutely belongs to themselves.

How can these two things be confused?

The "seriously injured" man in the wheelchair suppressed his smile, leaned forward slightly, and meticulously corrected the two little monsters:

"Death is a one-way ticket, very expensive, and non-refundable; but sleep...sleep is a basic necessity. If someone teaches you to replace the latter with the former, I suggest you call the police immediately."

The two children stopped holding hands.

Mikaje was picking at his nails, looking rather dim-witted.

Delphine tilted her head:

"But Dad said they were just asleep."

"He's lying to children." Ren Yi bluntly exposed him, showing no intention of protecting their innocence. "He's covering up the poor security on this ship."

There was a silence in the medical room for about three seconds.

Aurora took two steps back, and even the old man yawning behind the curtain fell silent.

"No..." Mikaje looked at her twin sister.

"No!" His sister also looked at him.

The two children then turned to look at Renyi and said in unison:

"But since Mom and Dad don't sleep, we never sleep either."

"So none of us died. The others died while they were asleep."

Now, there is only one thought—

Is this something he should be listening to?!

He rested his knuckles on his chin, his gaze sweeping back and forth between the two identical faces.

Two deductions clashed in my mind:

First, these twins, who appear to be children, are actually old monsters, top-notch imposters, deliberately conveying false information to mislead him.

The second one is much simpler: a child's mind that is purely immature and lacks a sense of right and wrong, except that they don't behave like a human being at night.

In this silence.

Aurora's hand had already stealthily reached for the bone saw in the first-aid kit, but just then, the boss spoke:

"Your reasoning is very interesting."

"So, when you went to 'check on' him last night, was Mr. Heck asleep?"

"Of course!" Mikaje answered eagerly, "We listened in every room, and his snoring was the loudest! It was so loud it made our ears ring even through the door!"

"Yes," Delphine added again, "louder than the fighting between Mrs. Phineas and Mr. Romeo."

Madame Phineas and Romeo...

That's not the point. The point is—

If what they say is true, then for them, knocking on the door is just a nighttime game of unmet interaction.

That makes things easier.

Leaning forward to align his gaze with the twins, he said, "Since you never sleep, it must be very boring at night, right?"

Mikaje and Delphine exchanged a glance and honestly admitted it.

"At night we can only play hide-and-seek, but nobody wants to play with us. There's no one in any of the rooms we can open," Delphine complained.

"How about we play a more challenging game?"

In a gentle tone, he said, "A detective game."

"Uncovering everyone's secrets, finding the villains lurking in the shadows... isn't that much more fun than you aimlessly pushing open doors?"

Delphine's little leather shoes slid across the floor twice. "What's in it for winning?"

That's exactly what I wanted to hear.

"benefit?"

He pointed to the pendulum clock in the corner, "If you win, every night from now on, lively people will come out to play with you."

The little monster who doesn't need to sleep is most lacking in playmates during the midnight hours.

Mikaje didn't even bother with the pretense of hesitation and nodded vigorously.

Delphine bit her lip and pondered for two seconds, then held out her hand: "Pinky promise! Liars will have their tongues cut off and fed to seagulls."

"make a deal."

He extended his little finger and hooked it with the finger that was indeed a bit hot to the touch.

Soothing a child is something I just do on a whim!

"Sir Aristotle's safety is in your hands." He solemnly instructed Aurora, "He's getting old, and he's easily frightened by hearing so many little secrets. Please take good care of him, chat with him, and don't let him be lonely."

The word "take care" was pronounced a little too heavily.

Aurora understood immediately.

She picked up her suitcase, which was stuffed with all sorts of "medical equipment":

"Don't worry, Detective. I will make sure Mr. Sir receives the best possible care."

Behind the curtain.

The old gentleman, who had just closed his eyes to pretend to be asleep, felt a chill in his body wrapped in the blanket.

He waved to the eager twins.

"Alright, new ally. The first lesson in the detective game begins with on-site investigation."

......

The lobby on the first floor of the "Narwhal".

Shark fragments, blood foam, and filthy carpets have been cleaned up, as if the gladiatorial combat was just a movie. Apart from the lonely cylindrical tank, even the lingering smell of blood in the air has been covered up by expensive incense.

I have to say...

Some of the guests had a very strong mentality.

They huddled together in twos and threes, whispering amongst themselves, their fearful yet greedy gazes involuntarily drifting toward the agitated Sean.

But this time, no one dared to mention treating him as an ornamental fish.

Noah settled on the bar stool.

"Another Bloody Mary, please."

Nathan had just picked up the cup when he stopped.

Bloody Mary?

This cocktail was officially named at least in the mid-20th century.

But this ship, judging from its decor, the guests' attire, and the topics of their conversations, seems more like a product of the early 20th century.

There's definitely something wrong with this person.

Nathan's mind raced through his thoughts, while his hands deftly held the vodka, tomato, and lemon—

Modern methods are better; you can just use tomato juice and lemon juice.

Finally, add a not-so-fresh celery stalk.

"Your Bloody Mary."

Nathan pushed the wine glass forward.

Noah held the glass by the stem and gently swirled it. The viscous red liquid clung to the glass. He picked up the glass, took a sip, and then began to speak casually:

"This ratio is excellent."

"It's just a means of making a living," Nathan said calmly, wiping his shaker.

"Unfortunately, the bartender's mind wasn't on the drinks."

You know the shit!

Nathan didn't even lift his eyelids: "I'm just trying to make a living, all I do is pour drinks."

Noah, puffing on his cigar, said, "How about we talk about that Zhang San?"

"Everyone has their own secrets... I'm a person with many rules, and I never pry into other people's business."

Two red, chip-like objects clattered onto the table.

Noah snapped his fingers.

"Just between you two, how long have you known him?"

what is this?

Why not take advantage of it? It's just a matter of saying a few words anyway.

Nathan smoothly tucked away the two discs: "We're really not that close, he—"

Sudden.

Strange footsteps came from the direction of the stairs.

The guests in the hall all stopped talking and looked in the direction of the sound.

At the top of the spiral staircase covered with a red carpet, Mr. Wonka's twins were struggling to carry a solid wood wheelchair down the stairs.

Mikaje's face turned bright red, while Delphine gritted her teeth.

The guy who had recently dismembered a shark-mermaid in a tank with his bare hands was now half-dead, wrapped in thick gauze and slumped in the velvet cushions of his wheelchair.

"Watch out for the steps."

He commands with a barely audible, almost imperceptible tone.

"The left side is too high, Delphine, watch your balance."