Chapter Ninety-Two: The Night of the Arrest

The peak of pirate robberies and hijackings in the Gulf of Aden was several years ago; in the past two years, in truth, there have been few major hijackings. The main reason is that the civil war within Somalia has eased somewhat with international aid, and the naval escorts provided by various countries have also reduced the incidence of such incidents. Many large international cargo ships also carry their own armed guards and avoid dangerous waters, greatly narrowing the pirates’ room to maneuver. Many of the old pirate factions have kept their heads down for a while, or have moved to other waters to prey on smaller vessels. Their arrogance is far less than in years past. So much so that some even believed the Somali pirates had vanished beneath the joint assault of the world’s navies.

Yang Dawei’s decision not to wait for the domestic escort fleet and instead send his two cargo ships out on their own was made against this broader backdrop. But, as the old saying goes, the world’s great currents divide long enough only to unite, and unite long enough only to divide again. Though Somalia is no vast expanse, the degree of chaos there is among the worst in the world. Not long ago, another wave of internal disorder erupted, leaving many unemployed. As a result, the old pirate groups once again gathered a large number of young men and prepared to pull off a few big jobs.

In a place like that, there are more guns than people, and if one truly intends to do evil, the so-called local authorities simply cannot keep up. Yang Dawei’s two cargo ships, lacking armed guards, ran headlong into the muzzle of this new pirate force.

Once the incident broke, the internet was abuzz. Reports dug up the backgrounds of the hijacked ships and exposed the causes and consequences of their seizure. Some details even Yang Dawei himself had overlooked were described in remarkable detail, and it was impossible to tell how much of it had been invented along the way.

...

Hobyo, a seaside town four hundred kilometers north of Mogadishu, the capital of Somalia.

It had once again become a gathering place for the rising pirate factions.

Abdullah Hassan was currently the most powerful pirate leader here, commanding a force of nearly three hundred pirates drawn from local fishermen and armed men who had returned home. They called themselves the Coast Guard.

The two large oil tankers were the pirate gang’s biggest haul in recent memory. For ships of that size, ransoms were usually paid. They would shout for as much as eight million dollars, and even if the amount were haggled down to two million, they would accept it.

Several pirates holding AK rifles walked past the courtyard of a dilapidated mud-brick house. Inside were thirty-six crew members from the two cargo ships. Aside from two Vietnamese, all the rest were from Hua Country.

It had been nearly two weeks since their capture, and two days since Yang Dawei had finished his call with Wu You.

"Sigh..."

The chief engineer of one ship let out another long sigh.

"Will the company and the shipper pay the ransom?"

The same question had been asked countless times.

"Of course they will," one of the captains answered.

"But I heard that over there, in a few other houses, there are dozens of Southeast Asian fishermen who were hijacked as well, and they’ve been held for two years."

"That’s because their countries don’t care about them. We’re from Hua Country; there’s no need to be afraid," said one crewman, sounding as if he were comforting the others and himself at once.

"But among those fishermen they captured, there are also some from Hua Country..."

Another crewman voiced his doubts a little uncertainly.

"The two ships and the fuel on board are worth far more than the ransom. We’ll definitely be released. As for the others, we can’t worry about them."

Another captain wanted to bring the oppressive conversation to an end.

"Compared with that, what we need now is a calm mind and the strength to endure. These pirates only give each of us one liter of water a day, so stop talking and wasting energy."

Rumble...

Thunder rolled from outside.

"Thunder! Thunder! It’s going to rain!" one crewman cried out happily.

The people in the house also began gathering the bottles and cans around them.

If it rained, there would be water to drink our fill.

With evening approaching and thick storm clouds overhead, darkness fell quickly, and the wind grew stronger and stronger. Clearly, this was no ordinary rainstorm.

...

A dozen or so strange creatures, vaguely mantis-like and only a little smaller than an adult, had already descended onto the rooftops of the ruined town.

Their wings were transparent yet tough, and their two powerful forelimbs bore sharp blades. Their bodies, upon landing on the roofs, blended almost perfectly into the tiles, even their body temperature matching as well.

Wu You stood atop Ao Guang’s head, looking down from the sky at the low buildings below.

Through the vision and sense of smell of the silver creatures, it was exquisitely clear which buildings contained people and whether any weapons were present.

This time, the main purpose was to take people alive. He did not want to bring this burden across the ocean, so after some thought, Wu You came in person.

The dozen or so mimic mantis demons were the main force in this operation. The low-level wind and rain had merely been summoned to block any possible satellite imagery.

...

Watching the sky darken with rain, the armed pirates scattered around the town headed toward the houses in small groups.

A five-man squad had only just entered an alley when the leader felt something move on the wall ahead and was about to turn and ask the others.

But when he turned around, there was no one behind him. Realizing something was wrong, he tried to fire a warning shot.

With a soft hiss, the armed arm flew away together with the rifle.

A cry of pain never had the chance to leave his throat.

His windpipe was severed, and blood gushed through it, filling the entire airway, leaving him only able to make muffled, choking sounds.

Reflected in those compound eyes were the fear and struggle of this young black man. The mantis demon seized him and took off. Before it had even risen into the air, the figure and the one in its grasp blurred and vanished into the air.

"Thirty-seven..."

Wu You withdrew his hand, washed the blood from his right hand with a sphere of water gathered atop Ao Guang’s head, and then said to the mantis demon beside him:

"Try not to sever the limbs. If the material is incomplete, who knows whether its potential will be reduced."

...

This night was destined to be a sleepless one for some of Hobyo’s original residents.

After this efficient slaughter and plundering had continued for half an hour, the torrential rain stored in the clouds above finally came crashing down.

A sudden surge of wind mixed with the curtain of rain, reducing visibility in the town to less than five meters.

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat...

The sound of an AK rifle came from the second floor of a house in the town center. Before a full burst of bullets had even been fired, the gunfire abruptly stopped.

Abdullah Hassan and two other leaders were sweating, staring ahead in terror at several monsters.

Beside them stood several horrific creatures resembling giant mantises.

And the one closest to them was a beast with the face of a lion from myth.

It had just ignored the hail of bullets, and by walking straight through the gunfire, had twisted three AK rifles into knots.

The three men prayed to the True God in their hearts, wondering whether they had drawn too near to moral evil, one of the two great devils in Islamic teaching, the devil of human-made sin, of moral corruption.

Had God finally sent an emissary to punish them?