Chapter 213: Pirates? (Request Support and Updates)

Normally, modern pirates rarely venture deep into the central and southern Indian Ocean; for them, unprofitable means the greatest reality. So, pirates should be impossible here.

Before coming, I reviewed the data—oceanic regions of the Indian Ocean have almost no pirate activity.

Qin Yun crouched low, his tone serious, but he added one more sentence.

Of course, I'm only guessing—it might not even be pirates; maybe it's just a speedboat from an ocean freighter. But regardless, I'll stay cautious.

Hearing this, many still held an optimistic attitude.

How many pirates could there be? You've watched too many movies.

Qin Ye is being overly careful.

Opportunities vanish in an instant—don't waste it, Qin Ye.

Compared to the optimism at home, foreign netizens' comments were clearly different.

Qin is wise—once you encounter pirates here, one misstep and you're dead.

This is a place beyond the law, where even murder goes unpunished.

Caution never hurts.

Qin Yun stopped reading the comments and turned toward the sound of the engine. As the boat drew closer, the microphone gradually picked up audio, and viewers in the livestream began to hear it.

Soon, under the starlight, a blurred shadow appeared in his line of sight. Though distant, the night was clear with not a single cloud—visibility was sharp enough to distinguish presence or absence.

At a distance of one or two hundred meters, the visual obstruction wasn't significant.

The engine noise grew louder—it was a speedboat, cutting diagonally from his right toward his left. As it neared, Qin Yun moved swiftly, sliding from above to the rear beacon block, hiding entirely behind it to avoid detection.

But fate intervened—just as the speedboat passed, a voice suddenly shouted in rapid, unintelligible speech: "Washakila."

Qin Yun had no knowledge of this language and couldn't understand it; the accent clearly marked it as a minor dialect.

What the hell did they say?

Who understands this?

Damn, I can't see anything—Qin Ye, aim better.

"I know, Qin—their saying is 'There's something here.' That's Somali, the official language."

Seeing this foreign netizen's comment, Qin Yun was startled. Hearing "Somalia" instantly brought to mind Somali pirates—movies really had sunk deep into the public consciousness.

What made him even more frustrated was that the distant speedboat had stopped.

"Wamasai?"

"Maan Alqikaro, Hubanauoegno?"

At this moment, knowing a foreign language felt crucial. Qin Yun had no choice but to turn to the comment section—and quickly found his answer.

He whispered: "TikTok fans say one is asking 'What is it?' and the other says 'Can't see clearly—should we go take a look?'"

Qin Yun smirked: "I hope they don't come over—if they do, I'll have to hide, just in case."

"Qin Ye doesn't need to be so cautious. Pretend you're a castaway—test them out."

"Yeah, out here in the open sea, even pirates wouldn't be that insane—just shoot them outright."

Looking at these comments, Qin Yun silently shook his head but said nothing. He grabbed the drone and slowly sank beneath the water, leaving only his head above the surface, then drifted sideways toward them.

Then he saw the speedboat turn, heading straight toward him with a steady "da-da-da."

As it drew nearer, he clearly made out the boat's shape—and seven or eight figures emerged into his view. Seeing their appearance and attire, Qin Yun cursed inwardly.

Viewers through his head-mounted action camera caught the same sight: each man was pitch-black, clad in mismatched camouflage jackets—no doubt about it, they were pirates.

Every one of them carried a gun. If this wasn't piracy, what was?

"Holy shit, they really are pirates—Qin Ye, get out of here fast."

"Wind's picking up—let's split."

"Holy shit, this is terrifying—these are armed militants, they don't value life at all."

"Jesus, what should Qin do? If he hides and the pirates take the beacon, what then?"

Qin Yun watched the speedboat rapidly approach and quickly said: "They're definitely pirates. I don't know why they're here, but I absolutely cannot let them spot me—they're armed. If conflict breaks out, I won't survive."

Without hesitation, he grabbed a parachute rope and a piece of parachute cloth, then dove beneath the water.

The speedboat moved fast—less than a minute later, it reached the beacon. As it drew near, the men aboard clearly saw its shape.

One black man, holding a submachine gun, glanced curiously, then swept his gaze across the sea. He lifted his head: "Sokadoi Ege (Bring it up and take a look)."

Two pirates grabbed opposite corners of the beacon and yanked upward, hauling it out of the water and tossing it onto the deck.

If Qin Yun had been there, he would have seen that beneath the beacon, two bound figures were curled up, their mouths stuffed with cloth.

They checked it quickly—aside from the parachute rope, parachute cloth, and a barrel, the beacon held almost nothing.

"Abadi, Majiro Wash, Mana Ojahi Ikin Eka Mana Ya I (Nothing here—don't know where it drifted from)."

At this moment, Qin Yun slowly shifted to the front of the speedboat, rising just enough to peek out. Listening to their voices, he checked the comments, got the translation, and silently prayed the pirates would just toss the beacon back and leave it alone.

The next moment, as if heaven had heard his prayer, the pirate leader muttered something, and his beacon was hurled back into the water—untouched, exactly as before.

Seeing this, he was overjoyed.

But the next instant, the pirates' words made his eyes widen.

"Puh… hu… hu… You… Washadra Ban Sidada Med (What exactly do you want?)?"

"Ha ha, fifty thousand U. . dollars per person—that's our price. We'll release them." This time, they spoke English—thickly accented, but Qin Yun understood.

But the issue wasn't the language—it was the terrified female voice earlier. If he hadn't misheard, she'd spoken Chinese.

Not just him—countless viewers on China's Douyin had heard it too.

"Holy shit, did I hear that right? There are Chinese people on that speedboat?"

"Damn, what's going on? Is this a kidnapping?"

"Intense—so intense."

"This is insane—in the middle of the open ocean, Qin Ye just stumbled upon a pirate kidnapping."

"Shaking in fear—what should Qin Ye do?"

What should he do?

Qin Yun narrowed his eyes, hiding beneath the speedboat, motionless. He didn't know what was happening yet—he'd listen first.

At this moment, the conversation above had switched to English.

The woman, hearing the ransom demand, immediately replied: "Impossible. Too much."

"Miss Lin," the pirate leader's expression darkened, his gun aimed at her. "Mr. Chen is the head of your China Ocean Fishing Group's East Africa division. You, as his secretary and assistant—just one million U. . dollars."

The woman's breath caught in Qin Yun's ears, then she said: "If you know we're from China Ocean Fishing Group, you should know we've never paid ransoms to pirates. Pirate, release us. We won't pursue it. Otherwise, if this triggers a diplomatic crisis, it won't just be between you and us anymore."

"Holy shit, so tough—you're kidnapped, just play along!"

"Yeah, pretend to cooperate—why shut the door? What if these pirates kill them in a rage?"

"China Ocean Fishing Group? Damn, that's a giant—state-owned enterprise! Are these pirates insane?"

Qin Yun glanced at the comments but didn't move.

"Hahaha, Miss Lin, since we dared to act, we're not afraid of you. We can just kill you—out here in the open sea, how could you ever find us?"

"Wu wu wu…"

Pirate leader Abadi saw Chen Jingsheng beside Lin Xia trying to speak, and signaled someone to rip off the tape sealing his mouth.

With a sharp "ssss," Chen Jingsheng gasped several times, then said: "Abadi, are you sure you really want money?"

"Of course. If you can produce one million U. . dollars, I'll release you immediately."

Abadi spoke with absolute clarity.

Chen Jingsheng said directly: "Then you can take us back right now. Once we reach a safe zone, I'll call and have the money transferred immediately."

"Mr. Chen," Lin Xia urgently interrupted, "we—"

Chen Jingsheng shook his head, silencing her, and calmly stared at the black man seated at the bow. The man wore a colorful headwrap, his gaze calm, showing not a trace of greed.

Abadi looked at him, saying nothing.

After a long silence, he suddenly burst into laughter: "Hahaha! No wonder you're Mr. Chen—you've figured something out."

Chen Jingsheng shook his head: "Abadi, who's behind you? Aren't you afraid they'll betray you in the end? You've kidnapped citizens of the People's Republic of China."

Abadi nodded calmly: "Mr. Chen, may fortune favor you."

With a wave of his hand, his men immediately re-taped Chen Jingsheng and Lin Xia's mouths shut.

"Sodaqiao."

With the engine roaring, the speedboat surged forward.

But livestream viewers suddenly noticed: Qin Yun hadn't detached from beneath the boat. He clung to a protruding edge, riding along as the speedboat cut through the waves.

"Holy shit, what's Qin Ye doing?"

"Are you insane? These are armed militants!"

"I've called the police."

"Qin Ye's balls are huge—but damn, this is intense. Will the livestream get shut down?"

"Also, do the pirates even watch Qin Ye's livestream? If they see him, he's done."

"OMG, Qin is utterly insane."

"Jesus, Wolf Warrior?"

If the people on the speedboat had been foreigners, Qin Yun would've released his grip immediately. But the hostages were Chinese. From their conversation, they were senior officials of China Ocean Fishing Group—and this pirate leader, Abadi, wasn't after ransom. That made it deeply suspicious.

He stayed silent. Though the waves were loud, he couldn't risk these pirates having sharp hearing.

They traveled for a full hour, far beyond his original location.

When he spotted a massive ship on the distant horizon, its appearance suggested a civilian supply vessel—around ten thousand tons.

As the speedboat neared, Qin Yun released his grip, sinking beneath the waves, swimming toward the ship.

A few minutes later, he surfaced from one side, watching from afar as the people on the speedboat and the large ship completed the handover, after which both the people and the speedboat were hoisted up.

It was a light gray vessel, with blurred English markings painted along its hull, now hard to make out, but the letters "Egypt" were still clearly visible.

Clearly a vessel from Egypt, yet only an Egyptian civilian flag flew from it.