Dragon Raja 5; Chapter 164: Leviathan’s Song (1)

Dragon Raja 5

Arctic Ocean, Barents Sea, Franz Josef Land.

This vast archipelago consists of 150 small islands, covering a total area of ​​over 10,000 square kilometers, and was part of Russian territory. There were no permanent residents on the islands, but there were scientific research stations left over from the Soviet era.

In the summer of previous years, Arctic cruise ships packed with tourists at this port. Passengers would be allowed to disembark on the archipelago and hike a short distance with a guide, breathing in the cool sea breeze and admiring the unique Arctic vegetation. If they were lucky, they might even see fields of Arctic poppies, whose petals, when in full bloom, reflected light like mirrors.

But at this moment, Caesar stood at the bow and looked out, seeing only a vast expanse of white ice and a bright sun hanging low on the horizon. The world before him was like a jagged mirror, where light and shadow were distorted and it felt like hallucinations were imminent.

On the ice in the distance, crew members were sweeping away the snow with brushes, loading them onto kayaks, and then pulling them back to the YAMAL on snowmobiles. It felt like a sculpture exhibition had just ended and the staff were cleaning the booth.

The YAMAL had been moored in Franz Josef Land for the sake of the lost expedition team. Half a month had passed, and the bitter cold seemed to have frozen time, leaving everything as it was when they had just died.

The sound of a champagne bottle being opened came from behind him, Caesar turned back to the dining table. This table was set on the deck of the YAMAL, with a white tablecloth, sterling silver cutlery, and a small mother-of-pearl spoon specially used for eating caviar. It was simply as a table in a top restaurant in Paris.

However, the guests were all wearing thick winter clothes and sunglasses. If they didn’t wear sunglasses in such a high-latitude area, the ultraviolet rays would quickly blind their eyes.

“Peruvian sea bass, paired with 1990 Salon champagne. Please enjoy it while it’s hot.” Percy lifted the silver lid on the plate.

The sea bass exudes an intoxicating aroma, accompanied by grilled white asparagus, garlic-seared veal, and tuna tartare.

“You must be the richest research institute in the world!” Captain Rebalco exclaimed.

“I hope that our research results on this trip will shock the world.” Schneider raised his glass.

Schneider’s team claimed to be a private research institute from the United States. In order to study this strange cold summer, they spared no expense to buy the YAMAL and carry out this polar expedition.

The glasses clinked together, and everyone else drank in one gulp, leaving Schneider alone to take a sip. His respiratory system was already on the verge of collapse, and after entering the Arctic Circle, the situation worsened. Perhaps what sustained him now wasn’t air or food, but a fierce will, so strong it seemed ready to burst into flames.

“But isn’t it a bit disrespectful for us to eat and drink next to the victims?” Rebalco looked in the direction Caesar had just looked.

“It’s nothing. Since ancient times, expeditions to the end of the world have been accompanied by sacrifice. If I die on this route, I hope that those who find me will raise a toast beside me instead of crying for me.” Schneider said slowly.

“Professor Schneider, you must be a philosophy major!” Rebalco laughed.

The guests and hosts clinked glasses again, chatting over their sea bass. Rybalko was quite talkative, chatting about food, girls, and his experiences sailing around the world. They had been together for a while, and the Eastern European crew, led by Rybalko, were a bold bunch, experienced, fearless of danger, and fond of vodka.

Percy kept pouring wine for everyone, and Rebalco drank all the wine in his glass and soon became slightly drunk.

“We’ve been sailing together for so long, but I still don’t know why you all set sail.” Rebalco drank another glass of champagne and licked his lips.

“Didn’t I tell you when we boarded the ship?” Caesar smiled. “We’re a private research institute, and the abnormal weather in the Arctic this year is worth studying.”

“That’s a bit unfriendly, Mr. Gattuso,” Rebalco said, shaking his glass. “It’s not that easy to fool an old sailor.”

Finger looked a little nervous. Schneider and Caesar looked at each other. Abbas still kept his head down, carefully dismantling the cold grilled sea bass.

“Captain, do you think we are lying?” Caesar raised his glass calmly.

Rebalco wasn’t shy either. He clinked his glasses again and drank them down in one gulp. “You’re not researchers. You have a military air about you. Of course, you’re rich, and soldiers aren’t supposed to be as wealthy as you are. But you’re a militarized team, for sure!”

“Why do you think so?” Caesar smiled.

Rebalco shrugged. “Mr. Gattuso, you are an extremely perceptive person. Although you try not to show it, wherever you stand, you are monitoring everything around you, even things that happen outside your sight. Although I don’t know how you do it.”

He turned to Abbas and said, “Mr. Abdullah, I am the strongest man on this ship, but I have no intention of engaging you in hand-to-hand combat unless absolutely necessary.”

He turned to Schneider and said, “As for you, Professor, you do look like an academic and your words are quite philosophical, but you can command Mr. Gattuso and Mr. Abdullah with just your eyes. Please don’t say that it is because of your outstanding knowledge.”

He finally turned to Finger, looked at him for a moment, then skipped over him and looked at Caesar again.

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