I became the King of Ryukyu

We need to break the deadlock.

While fighting, Zheng Yi used his mind to reconnect with the White Dragon.

At the same time, he was also calculating his physical exertion. After playing for so long, his glycogen and fat reserves should still be sufficient.

Beneath the surface, the white electric eel received a new instruction. It swam out from under the boat, circled to the stern, and then leaped out of the water.

Its five-meter-long body drew a silvery-white arc under the moonlight, splashing water as it slammed heavily onto the deck at the stern.

Before the three militants who were organizing the defense line could react, they saw a huge white monster with arcs of electricity flashing all over its body descend from the sky.

The white dragon's body writhed violently on the deck, its tail sweeping out and sending two people flying. One man's spine cracked crisply with the impact, his body contorting at an impossible angle before flying over the ship's side and into the sea, splashing up a small spray. The other man was slammed against the bulkhead, his head hitting the metal with a dull thud before sliding motionless to the ground.

The third man raised his miniature submachine gun in terror, but before he could pull the trigger, the little white dragon had already released a high-voltage current.

This time, without the attenuation of seawater, the current was conducted directly to him through the deck and the humid air.

The man's body convulsed violently, his hair stood on end, and a layer of blue-white arcs of electricity shimmered on his skin. Then he fell straight backward, with wisps of smoke rising from his mouth.

The defensive line at the stern collapsed instantly.

But Zheng Yi knew that relying solely on Xiao Bailong wasn't enough. People were still rushing out of the cabin, the gunfire was growing increasingly intense, and several members on the outer perimeter had already fallen.

He glanced at the fallen peripheral members; some had been shot in the chest, some lay convulsing in pools of blood, and others had simply been swept away by his lamppost.

He didn't care. These peripheral members were all right-wing elements recruited locally by the organization. Even if they weren't right-wing, they were still willing to work for the criminal organization. He didn't care how many of them died.

He took a deep breath and mobilized the power within him that he had been hiding and never used.

He only demonstrated the ability of high voltage to Master Bai Ling after acquiring it.

It consumes glycogen and fat, releasing a high-voltage current whose intensity depends on its current strength and endurance attributes.

With his current physique of [Battlefield Warrior 3/5], although the power of this electric current is not as great as the innate bioelectric organs of the White Dragon, it is enough to instantly incapacitate an adult at close range.

He gripped the lamp post tightly and guided the current to the metal lamp post.

Silver-blue arcs of electricity spread from his palm, meandering up the surface of the lamp post and crackling with the sound of electricity.

In the darkness of night, the blood-stained iron pillar seemed to come alive, like an ancient weapon imbued with lightning.

They simply shoved the lamppost onto the deck.

The electric arc spread wildly across the wet deck surface, forming a visible blue-white halo. Wherever the halo passed, everyone still standing on the deck, whether drug dealers or peripheral members, was struck by the electric current.

The two drug dealers who were shooting at him suddenly stiffened, their guns fell from their hands, and they convulsed and collapsed to the ground.

A drug dealer who had just rushed out of the cabin stepped onto the electrified deck, screamed, and flew backward as if struck by an invisible giant hammer, crashing into the door frame and losing consciousness.

Three of the peripheral members who were too close to him were also affected by the electric current and collapsed, convulsing all over.

One of them hit his head on the iron railing of the ship's side and died instantly. The other fell into the sea, struggled for a moment, and then sank. Zheng Yi didn't even glance at them.

Because Ishikawa Aya was positioned at the back and managed to hide in a corner of a shipping container, she was fortunate enough to escape the commotion.

But she witnessed it all firsthand.

She saw the bald monk holding an iron pillar crackling with electricity, standing in the moonlight, surrounded by a pile of charred corpses, some enemies and some of his own.

His expression remained unchanged, as if the lives of those peripheral members meant nothing to him.

A sudden chill ran through her.

Is this the power of the "Deities"? She had heard of such people within the organization.

A bio-engineered warrior transplanted with special cells, possessing superhuman physical abilities and superhuman powers.

But what she saw with her own eyes still sent a chill down her spine. What chilled her even more was the attitude of the man with the yellow eyebrows.

This guy doesn't care about the lives of his enemies, nor does he care about the lives of his own people. This kind of person is more difficult to deal with than a pure villain.

Zheng Yi was unaware of Ishikawa Aya's inner thoughts. He was focused on controlling the output of the current, and he felt his glycogen being rapidly depleted. A sense of fatigue welled up from deep within his muscles, but it was still within an acceptable range.

As the current was withdrawn, the electric arc on the lamppost gradually dissipated, leaving only the smell of rust and blood in the air.

Seizing the opportunity, Zheng Yi fought his way from the bow to the stern of the ship.

The lamppost was now covered in blood and bits of flesh, and the grooves on the flange were embedded with broken teeth and hair.

He stepped over a corpse—whether it was a drug dealer or an outsider, it was unclear—and swept the lamppost across, sending the last drug dealer who tried to rush out of the cabin flying backward.

The man's chest was visibly dented, and the blood spurting from his mouth drew an arc in the air, knocking over two of his accomplices who were about to rush out from behind him.

When Zheng Yi finally stood on the deck at the stern of the ship, his feet planted on the chest of the last enemy who was still breathing, there was no one left standing on the entire deck.

He had experienced this scene many times before, but it was always in secret realms or on the battlefield in Hebei. Now, however, it was on a smuggling ship in the Ryukyu Sea of ​​the Pacific Ocean.

The drug dealer lay on the ground, clutching his leg, which had been broken by a lamppost, and groaning incoherently.

Zheng Yi glanced down at him, then expressionlessly raised his foot and stepped on his neck.

Click.

The groans stopped abruptly.

The sea breeze howled, and the stench of blood filled the night air. Nearly twenty corpses lay scattered across the deck.

Drug dealers and peripheral members were mixed together, making it impossible to distinguish one from another. Blood flowed through the gaps in the deck, gathering into dark red streams that dripped into the seawater below, attracting a group of carnivorous fish with a keen sense of smell, which lingered at the bottom of the ship.

Aya Ishikawa emerged from the cabin, her body covered in blood, some from others and some from herself.

She had a shallow knife wound on her shoulder, but it didn't seem to affect her mobility. She glanced at the scene on the deck, her gaze lingering for a moment on the bodies of the outer crew members before looking away.