The coordinates pointed to Pandora Life Sciences—a private island fortress.
Heavily guarded.Sealed tight.
A place where normal infiltration was basically impossible.
But Chen Lin found a crack.
A very narrow one.
Through an extremely classified channel, he got intel:
One of Pandora's major shareholders—
A mysterious billionaire—
Would be hosting a week-long global charity auction and elite social voyage aboard his private luxury cruise ship—
The Poseidon.
Among the auction items:
"Prehistoric genetic artifacts""Experimental biological art"Restricted research collectibles
More importantly—
Several top executives and core researchers from Pandora would be onboard.
Chen Lin spread a golden invitation copy and a structural blueprint of the ship across the table.
"This…"
"…is our only shot."
"To get close to Pandora's core."
"Maybe even infiltrate the island itself."
The Plan
Invitations were nearly impossible to obtain.
So—
They wouldn't.
They'd borrow one.
Target:
A Southeast Asian collector.
Invited—but unable to attend.
His private yacht was currently docked in a neighboring country.
Invitation.
Credentials.
Identity set.
All on that yacht.
Chen Lin's voice turned cold.
"We take them."
"Forty-eight hours before boarding."
"Replace identity."
"Slip onto the Poseidon."
Phase One: Ocean Retrieval
Mission type:
Silent acquisition at sea.
Execution team:
Chen LinOld Wu…and the Pack
Yes.
The Dog Squad was going in.
"They'll handle perimeter security, interference, and extraction support," Chen Lin explained.
"Port security is complex—but not airtight."
"We move fast."
"Quiet."
"Precise."
He glanced at Silas Moore.
"In darkness and chaos…"
"Your senses beat any equipment we have."
Silas lowered his gaze—
Studying the yacht photo.
The harbor map.
Blue eyes flickering—
Calculating.
Routes.
Angles.
Blind spots.
He lifted a paw—
Tapped several points:
Entry gapsSurveillance dead zonesEscape vectors
Then—
A short, sharp sound.
Confirmed.
Ironfang and the others immediately perked up.
Ears up.
Eyes bright.
This wasn't training anymore.
This was a mission.
Pre-Mission Training – Emergency Adjustment
Theme:
Water + confined space adaptation.
Old Wu went all out.
He somehow got:
A massive inflatable pool (with wave generator)Narrow wooden maze tunnels simulating yacht corridorsWater Training
Ironfang went first.
Saw water.
Brain shut down.
"SWIM TIME!"
He dove in.
Immediately—
WHAM—
Artificial wave slammed him sideways.
He choked.
Panicked.
Scrambled out.
Shook himself violently—
Soaked Lightning completely.
Lightning:Disgusted silence.
Silas Moore gave a single look.
Cold.
Sharp.
Training.
Is training.
No excuses.
Then—
Silas stepped in.
Calm.
Measured.
Paws spread slightly.
Lowered center of gravity.
He adjusted—
Balanced—
Moved.
Each step precise.
Even with waves rolling under him—
He stayed stable.
Controlled.
Then—
He lifted a paw—
Pressed a small switch at the pool edge.
Perfect.
Confined Space Training
Now things got… funny.
Silas entered the narrow tunnel.
He was big.
Had to crawl low.
It looked slightly ridiculous—
But—
His face?
Calm.
Composed.
Like he was walking a red carpet.
Ironfang?
Struggled.
Boulder?
Worse.
The Rottweiler nearly got stuck at a corner—
Forced his way through—
BANG. BANG. BANG.
Wooden walls shaking.
Old Wu exploded:
"QUIETER!"
"You're stealing, not demolishing the port!"
Tracker, on the other hand—
Was in heaven.
Small.
Fast.
Silent.
Slipped through tunnels effortlessly.
Even poked his nose out through gaps—
Accurately reporting:
"Patrol incoming. Left side."
Final Evaluation
Messy.
Chaotic.
But—
Functional.
Adaptation achieved.
Barely.
Chen Lin gave the final briefing.
"In operation—"
"Silas Moore commands."
"His orders override everything."
"If anything goes wrong—"
"Priority is extraction."
"Silas and Lin Wan come first."
Lin Wan was included in the operation.
Role:
CoverSupportIdentity handler
She would wait at the extraction point—
Handle inspections—
Maintain the disguise layer.
Night of Operation
The harbor.
Dark.
Wind heavy with:
SaltOilSeaweed
The target yacht—
"Sapphire."
Quiet.
Docked in a remote berth.
Lights dim.
Almost too calm.
Chen Lin and Old Wu—
Already in the water.
Black diving suits.
Moving like shadows beneath the surface.
Closing in.
Silent.
Invisible.
Not far away—
Behind a reef's shadow—
A small speedboat waited.
Inside:
Silas MooreIronfangLightningBoulderTracker
All treated with scent-masking spray.
Breathing steady.
Waiting.
Watching.
No barking.
No movement.
Only focus.
Silas stood at the bow.
Eyes locked on the yacht.
Still.
Cold.
Like a predator before the strike.
The ocean moved.
The wind shifted.
And somewhere in the dark—
The hunt—
Had already begun.