Deltarune Shipping Novels & Stories

Ruelle groaned from my right side. “They took only the pup?” I asked Nevan to be sure, and he nodded frantically, already breaking a sweat from trying to keep up with us. Nevan was going to be a hacker under the Delta who would be Rune when Soren took over. The Delta was usually in charge of communications within and outside the pack, so Rune’s team members didn't need to be fighters but were excellent at getting information, which was why Nevan didn't need strength training. “Yes. They took just the pup”

"Their automated eye-in-the-sky satellites can track the heat signature of a moving locomotive or the signal spike of a rogue data terminal, but they can't read what a boy is tracing with a stick on the wet sand of a fishing beach. The bandwidth of the delta is pure wood and water." ​Yusuf was down on the muddy bank below the pier, his bare feet sinking deep into the dark silt as he helped the old fisherman load a series of wide, flat wicker baskets onto the deck of a larger transport barge. The baskets were nominally filled with coarse gray sea salt, but beneath the heavy layers of mineral crust lay the true cargo: dozens of hand-carved wooden printing blocks, each one painstakingly engrave

“What shipment?” “I don’t know. He didn’t say.” Alejandro glanced at Aria, who had already pulled up her laptop. She typed quickly, searching cartel shipments in the last twenty-four hours. Then she froze. “There’s a shipment leaving in three hours,” she said. “A weapons deal at the old shipyard.” Alejandro smirked. “Then that’s where we’ll find him.” The Shipyard Showdown The shipyard was dark, the only light coming from flickering street lamps and the headlights of blacked-out SUVs parked near a massive cargo ship.

Someone had been picking me clean for months now, and I'd been so preoccupied with Evelyn and the love triangle and pretending to be a normal human being that I'd missed it until Cyril had to bang on my door at midnight to tell me the Seravino shipment had vanished. "The carrier analysis," Cyril continued. "All fourteen affected shipments used the same three carriers. Meridian Freight, Coastal Line, and DeLuca Transport. I pulled the contract histories, and here's where it gets interesting. All three carriers were onboarded within the same two-month window, approximately seven months ago. The approvals were signed by your operations director, Landon Beck."

Another message, this time from an unknown number: [Why is my package delayed? I expect my shipment in two days, or there will be trouble, Alpha Barron.]

The Orion network was already adapting. Within twelve hours of the Rotterdam suspension, freight routes had begun shifting. Cargo that once flowed through the northern corridor was now redirecting toward Antwerp, Genoa, and Trieste. On the surface, the system appeared stable. Shipments continued moving. Ports remained active. Warehouses stayed operational. To outside observers, the disruption looked manageable. But inside De Luca Holdings, everyone understood something different. Marco D’Ambrosio had just run the first test.

“Alright, back to it. The port deal—three containers, uncut product, coming in next week. Port authority’s on our payroll, but we’ve got a new customs guy, some prick named Delgado. He’s not bought yet. Any ideas?” Tommy grinned, his knuckles cracking. “Pay him or break him,” he said, his voice rough. “That’s been our rule, boss.” Frankie shook his head, his pen tapping. “Nah, it’s too risky. Delgado’s got legitimate feds watching. We need a front—legit paperwork, shell company, to get that shipment across.” I nodded, my eyes narrowing, my mind half on Ethan, half on the game. “Set up the shell,” I said, my voice firm. “Marco, will handle the paperwork. Frankie, get eyes on Delgado’s routine

“I’m a wildling.” “Ha, course you are.” Then the old man went back to his fellow crew members. Tristan grimaced at the strong scent of the fishes stored inside hundreds of barrels at the center of the deck. It was a cargo ship, heading to deliver all the supplies to the city of Andorhal. Tristan chose this one as it was the only ship that would go to Sunvar City in Drava for its last delivery. However, he would’ve gone straight to Drava if he had caught the cruise ship. He felt so stupid.

Mikal read some reports on his iPad and chose to talk about business to top the conversation about… his family. "ElWagner wouldn't get in the way of shipping if we didn't interfere with their business." Lionel pointed out the line of business that ElWagner Clan shipping goes through, “they control Canada, so almost all of the shipments will be centralized from Canada. We can ship to the United States without going through Canada." Mikael nodded, “Do as you planned. I want you to lead the delivery this time.” "Or if you want something more secure, you can call Rafael Wagner and report our shipment."

Hugo, standing next to Damian, added, "We're dealing with the big guys. If this stuff falls into the wrong hands, we're all finished." The bald man swallowed, then signaled to his men. A thin but sharp-eyed man approached, carrying a tablet. "We have prepared the safest shipping route. Tonight, the ship will depart from the southern port, enter through the rat lines at the border, and reach the owner without interruption." Damian watched the tablet screen carefully. The shipping map looked neat and detailed. There was no room for betrayal, at least so far. "Good," Damian finally said, then looked directly into the man's eyes. "But remember, if there's even the slightest mistake..."