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This man was Barton—the highest-ranking official in the Department of Homeland Security and the commander of all Transcendents in the nation. His authority and status were unmatched.

He was hailed as the king of Transcendents, the man closest to breaking into the legendary SS-rank. And yet, this peak powerhouse nearly leapt from his chair after seeing the photo in his hand.

Barton could swear on everything he knew—he had never seen a creature this terrifying. The sheer oppressive aura radiating from the still image was enough to send a chill down his spine.

“There’s no saving them… not a single one,” Barton muttered, shaking his head as he stared at the image of the cruise ship entangled in pitch-black tentacles. “The real question isn’t how to deliver this tragedy,” he continued grimly, “It’s how to deal with the monster responsible.”

The satellite photo had only just reached his hands, yet the timestamp showed the incident had occurred hours ago. Apparently, it was forwarded in a panic after a junior analyst stumbled upon it by chance.

“There’s actually a monster like that… hiding in the South Pacific Ocean?” Gripping the photo tightly, Barton’s expression turned grim. “Even a nuclear strike might not be enough to kill it…”

Destroying the creature was one thing, finding it in the vastness of the ocean was another. The Pacific Ocean was impossibly vast—like looking for a needle in an abyss. Without tracking data, even a nuclear payload would be meaningless.

Worse still, using such a weapon recklessly would spark global outrage. And if the other two global superpowers overreacted? That would open up a whole new disaster.

“In any case, this must be reported to the [Consulate] immediately,” Barton muttered to himself.

The [Consulate] he referred to functioned like a Senate, but its members came from the elite [Twelve Blood Pact Families]—individuals who wielded nearly godlike influence. The Department of Homeland Security was, in fact, a subordinate branch beneath the Consulate's shadow.

Barton dialed the secure line without hesitation, quickly explaining the situation until one of the Consulate elders took the call. Fifteen minutes later, Barton hung up and slumped into his chair, exhaling deeply.

“Cover it up and monitor the region closely? Easier said than done,” he muttered bitterly.

The passengers on that cruise ship were from over sixty different nations! Silencing the smaller countries was manageable—but what about the major powers? The more he thought about it, the worse his headache became.

To preserve his sanity, Barton pushed the task onto his subordinates. The outcome? He no longer cared.

Half an hour later, a breaking news bulletin sent shockwaves around the globe.

“MS Royal Princess disappears in South Pacific—water tornado suspected!”

The headline was plain, almost clinical, but the information it carried was earth-shattering. In this relatively peaceful age, the disappearance—or possible death—of over 3,500 people was nothing short of catastrophic.

Within minutes, media outlets worldwide were echoing the headline.

Governments with citizens aboard the cruise ship immediately reached out to the U.S. through every available channel. This day would be remembered as the beginning of something monumental.

Meanwhile, in Britain, the editorial staff of The Moon were working overtime in a frenzy. Known worldwide for its barely ethical reporting tactics, The Moon was already circulating the story at lightning speed.

The print edition had gone to press hours ago—now, all attention was on the online version.

“This story is dynamite! If we write it like every other outlet, it won’t stand out. Use your imaginations, people!” A pudgy, middle-aged man in a beige jacket slammed the table for emphasis. He was Johnny—the editor-in-chief of The Moon.

“Editor-in-Chief, this report feels rushed. The incident might be far worse than we’re being told,” said a bespectacled young man.

“Excellent work, Manson! You’re onto something. Push it further—let your imagination run wild!” Johnny declared, slamming the table again in approval.

The Moon never concerned itself with truth. Its specialty was fear. True or false—it didn’t matter. As long as it shocked readers and drew clicks, it was a success in their eyes.

The bespectacled young man paused in thought before slowly raising his head, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. “Editor-in-Chief, I hope you won’t be alarmed by what I’m about to say.”

Johnny paused, then grinned. “Go on, don’t hold back. You won’t scare me.”

“Alright, I’ll say it.” He glanced around the room. “I believe the MS Royal Princess may have been sunk by a cruise missile—or even an intercontinental ballistic missile.”

Gasps rippled through the room as everyone stared at him in utter disbelief.

‘That’s insane…'

‘It was an American cruise ship. Who would dare attack it?'

‘Only a handful of nations even have that kind of firepower.'

‘Are we looking at the start of a war?'

Everyone, except the young man himself, shook their heads in denial.

“I understand your skepticism. Honestly, I surprised myself with this conclusion. But I do have reasons—evidence, even. ”

“First of all, I’ve been on the MS Royal Princess before. That ship has sailed the same route for over a decade without incident. And the odds of a water tornado occurring in that region are practically nonexistent.”

“How could a vessel so familiar with those waters suddenly fall victim to a water tornado—a phenomenon that’s nearly impossible in that area?” he asked calmly. His words sent the room into thoughtful silence.

They couldn’t deny the logic in his reasoning, but tying it to missiles? That still seemed far-fetched. At this point, it felt less like speculation and more like a conspiracy theory.

The young man continued. “Since we can eliminate the water tornado as a plausible cause, the next question is—would another major country attack this cruise ship?”

He paused, gauging everyone’s expressions before continuing. Seeing their undivided attention, he pressed on. “I don’t believe that’s likely. Global tensions haven’t escalated to that level—at least not yet. And based on the press release, it doesn’t seem like an act of aggression from another nation.”

Someone finally interrupted, annoyed. “You’re just going in circles. Didn’t you just contradict your own theory?” The man’s voice dripped with irritation—he clearly felt he was being dragged through a web of nonsense.

Johnny leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed intently on the young man, saying nothing.

The young man remained composed. “No. That’s not the point. Think about it—if it wasn’t a foreign power, then what’s left? That’s right… I suspect this was friendly fire. An accident by the U.S. military.”

He ended his claim with a passionate slap on the table. The room fell silent. Was this guy for real? His imagination knew no bounds. He reached such a wild conclusion from a basic news bulletin? What a talent, indeed.

“Good! Very good! As expected of one of The Moon’s brightest!” Johnny said, clapping with enthusiasm. “Unfortunately, we can’t print this theory. If we do, I’ll have a dozen agencies breathing down my neck.”

The room collectively exhaled in relief. If the editor-in-chief had greenlit that angle, it would’ve spelled disaster for them all.

“Let’s take a different angle—how about something more fantastical?” Johnny suggested. Truth didn’t matter to Johnny. All he cared about was attention-grabbing headlines that wouldn’t get him killed.

“Fantastical, huh…” The young man adjusted his glasses. “Editor-in-Chief, how about using a deep-sea creature as the culprit this time?”¹

“Excellent! Fantastic idea!” Johnny gave him a big thumbs-up. He turned to the rest of the team. “Alright, people—let’s make this sea monster the star of our explosive headline!”

Soon after, The Moon published a headline that baffled the entire world.

«BREAKING: Supernatural Sea Creatures Behind Disappearance of MS Royal Princess?!»

Meanwhile, in the City of Chaos, Yaeger had taken some time to rest and had regained most of her mental energy.

The moment her phone screen lit up, breaking news about the missing cruise ship appeared before her. After skimming through the first two articles, Yaeger nodded in approval—America was handling the situation with reasonable caution.

But then she came across a sensational headline that made her pause, brows furrowing in confusion.

“It’s them again… No, this is the ancestor of all clickbaiters!” The article was published by The Moon, the infamous British tabloid known for pioneering sensationalism.

As she read through the report, Yaeger’s eyes widened and her pupils constricted. The article’s content was eerily close to the truth she knew all too well.

At that same moment, on the top floor of Homeland Security’s headquarters, Barton nearly crushed his phone after reading the exact same article.

“This damn country again!” Barton snarled. Despite his British ancestry, he had no love for the Isles—especially when it came to their media.

“This is going to cause problems…” he muttered, glancing down at his phone—only to freeze mid-sentence. Then he gave a bitter smile. “Of course… it’s from that garbage publication. In that case, it’s fine.”

A company with a reputation for peddling rumors and stirring controversy couldn’t be taken seriously—ironically, even when they accidentally told the truth.

Back in the City of Chaos—

“This went over better than I expected,” Yaeger murmured. “But the result’s flipped. Instead of panic, everyone’s treating it like a joke.”

After browsing the internet for a while, she confirmed her suspicions—there was no need to worry.

“What a waste of time.” She set the phone aside and closed her eyes again, letting her body fall into a light rest.

While she rested, the disappearance of the MS Royal Princess would continue to stir deeper consequences across the world.

Time flew by.

Morning arrived, and Yaeger stretched lazily as she sat up from bed. She still had some time before needing to log into the game—just enough for a quick breakfast and to check on Vera 1, 2, and 3.

As she stepped out of her room, she saw Little Blue flying toward her with noticeable excitement.

“Master! I made them cry!” She landed with a beaming smile, clearly proud of her mission's success.

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1. Silva: That's actually close to the truth

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by Aunomay Read