Originally, Darren had considered auditioning as an extra, but he had not expected Tim to call and hand him a guaranteed spot.
Naturally, he accepted without hesitation.
After all, he had no idea what the selection criteria for extras would be, and with the number of spots so limited, failing the audition would mean finding another way to sneak onboard.
That would only add unnecessary complications.
It was better to take the back door.
Even so, while the problem of boarding during the official operation was solved, the task of scouting the ship in advance still remained.
The luxury cruise ship was far too large to rely on guesswork alone.
...
A short while later.
Darren, now dressed in a black wetsuit, swam steadily beneath the surface of the water.
The sea at night was cold and heavy, pressing against his body with every movement.
To ensure he could safely bypass the dock's security perimeter, he had entered the sea from far away and swum nearly two kilometers before finally reaching the vicinity of the Withers luxury cruise ship.
From a distance, the ship looked like a floating island.
Its hull rose high above the waterline, and even though it had not yet been officially put into use, it already carried the unmistakable air of extravagance.
Although the cruise ship was not yet operational, it was not empty.
Security guards could occasionally be seen patrolling the deck.
Their silhouettes moved slowly under the deck lights, rifles slung casually over their shoulders.
Lights were also on in several cabins, their warm glow spilling faintly through the windows.
However, compared to the heavy security around the dock, there were far fewer guards stationed here.
The patrol routes were simple.
The timing was predictable.
Darren adjusted his breathing and swam closer, keeping himself hidden in the shadow of the massive hull.
When he reached the underside of the ship, he pulled himself up silently and attached a small magnetic device to the metal surface.
The device anchored firmly without making a sound.
He paused for a moment, listening.
Only the distant sound of waves and the low hum of the ship's internal systems reached his ears.
Heh~ good.
Satisfied, Darren activated the miniature camera mounted on his chest.
A small indicator light flickered once, then went dark.
The camera had begun recording.
Moving with practiced ease, Darren climbed along the ship's exterior and slipped through a maintenance access point.
Inside, the environment changed instantly.
The smell of metal and new materials filled the air.
The corridors were wide and clean, the floors spotless.
This was a ship built for luxury after all, not utility.
As Darren moved through the internal passages, he memorized everything he saw.
Corridor widths.
Camera placements.
Emergency exits.
Service elevators.
He passed storage rooms, staff areas, and empty entertainment halls, all silent and unused for now.
With the footage he was recording, Darren would be able to reconstruct the cruise ship's internal layout in detail and formulate a complete action plan.
Before the official operation, he would not need to make a second trip.
Done.
After completing his survey, Darren retraced his route and disappeared back into the sea without leaving a trace.
…
Inside a luxuriously decorated suite at the Iceberg Lounge & Casino.
A man in his fifties sat upright in a chair.
His posture was stiff, his hands resting uneasily on his knees.
Several expressionless men in black stood on either side of him, their presence heavy and oppressive.
Opposite him sat Oswald Cobblepot.
The Penguin leaned back in his chair, hands folded over his cane, a faint smile fixed on his face.
"Mr. Cobblepot, have I offended you in some way before?"
The man asked cautiously.
His voice was controlled, but there was no hiding the tension beneath it.
"Offend me? No, no, no."
The Penguin waved his hand lightly, letting out a series of low chuckles.
"Of course not. On the contrary, I'm actually a fan of yours, Director James."
That was right.
The man sitting opposite him was none other than the renowned Director James, who was about to film The Maculage on the Withers luxury cruise ship.
Not long ago, James had just reached an agreement with the people at Withers Shipbuilding to obtain temporary use of the cruise ship.
The start date for filming had been finalized, and he had been preparing to return to his hotel to inform the crew of the good news.
But halfway there, a black luxury car had intercepted his vehicle.
Then several cold eyed men in black had approached and politely informed him that their boss wished to see him.
James did not remember very clearly what happened after that.
He only remembered that by the time he regained his senses, he was already sitting in this room.
Only then did he realize that the person who had invited him was Oswald Cobblepot.
The infamous Penguin.
Even an outsider like James, who rarely visited Gotham, had heard of his reputation.
He simply did not know it in detail.
"Mr. Cobblepot, what do you want from me?"
James asked warily.
From the beginning, the Penguin had acted friendly and cordial, appearing completely harmless.
However, James was not fooled.
Years in the film industry had taught him to recognize false smiles and rehearsed politeness.
Perhaps the Penguin had never intended to hide it in the first place.
"What I want is very simple."
The Penguin's smile widened slightly.
"I just need to ask the director for a small favor."
"What kind of favor?" James swallowed. "I'm just a filmmaker. I'm afraid I don't have the ability to help you, sir."
"Don't worry."
The Penguin tapped his cane lightly against the floor.
"It's nothing difficult. You just need to nod your head."
At this point, he glanced at the men in black standing beside James.
Their expressions did not change.
"I want you to arrange for a few people to get onboard."
James stiffened.
He understood immediately.
This was not a request.
…
Meanwhile, back aboard the luxury cruise ship.
In one of the brightly lit cabin corridors, two security guards walked side by side, their footsteps echoing faintly against the polished floor.
"Hey, do you think we'll get a chance to show our faces on camera when James actually comes to film on the ship?"
One of the guards asked casually.
"I doubt it."
His colleague snorted.
"The filming area will definitely be cordoned off. We'll probably barely even get to watch. Besides, with your looks, if you were really put in front of a camera, I bet you wouldn't even dare to speak."
"As if you're any different."
The first guard replied with dissatisfaction.
"I am. That's why I don't have those kinds of pipe dreams."
He paused.
"Hm? Why did you stop walking? Are you angry already?"
Noticing that the guard beside him had suddenly come to a halt, his colleague reached out and patted his shoulder.
To his surprise, the guard did not react.
He stood there frozen, his eyes fixed intently on the corridor window.
"What are you staring at so hard…"
The colleague followed his gaze... And instantly sucked in a sharp breath!
A white card was affixed to the corridor window.
It appeared to have been placed there from the outside.
From this side of the glass, nothing could be felt.
The card rested flat against the window, perfectly centered, as if deliberately positioned for someone to see.
Several lines were written neatly on the card.
♦—Quartz, flame, ocean, breeze,
Among the twenty-six letters reversed from beginning to end,
Find the nineteenth day and night,
I shall board the glory of The Maculage,
And personally pluck that Cruel Flower of Hope.
Sincerely,
—Kaitou Kid—♦
____
🦉🦉🦉
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