Jinmao Ship Novels & Stories

"Mom, he's amazing." "He's a child who survived," I said. "Just like you." Jaden thought about that. "Am I amazing?" I pulled him close. "Yes. You are." An hour later, we saw it. A cargo ship. Huge. Rusted. Listing to one side. It had run aground on a reef years ago and been abandoned. Now it sat tilted, half-submerged, like a dead whale. Miro surfaced beside the boat. "They're inside," he said. "In the belly. They don't come out much."

Cosco Shipping Pisces. "Filter by current location, New York/New Jersey harbor," Wong says to the computer. The list shrinks to three names. Atlantic Conveyor. Hanjin Seattle. Krasnaya Zvezda. My eyes lock onto the third name. "Krasnaya Zvezda," I read aloud. "Red Star." "Russian flagged," Wong says, pulling up the vessel’s registry. "Registered in St. Petersburg. Owned by a shell company in Cyprus called Vostok Holdings."

Autumn nodded without hesitation and said, “I’ll certainly be at Emgrand Group on time in the morning day after tomorrow!” Charlie hummed slightly and said, “I’ll also invite Jasmine Moore from the Moore family in Aurous Hill and Ito Nanako from the Ito family in Japan to go over there. The Moore family is now collaborating with Nippon Steel from Japan to build a factory in Oskia, and they will certainly need a lot of maritime capacity in the future. The Ito family itself also has a lot of shipping resources in Japan. At that time, we can integrate things and collaborate with them. You can first get to know them the day after tomorrow and see how you are going to collaborate with them in the

In his hand was a longbow, and he also carried a quiver of arrows on his back. Obviously, he was the person who had fired the arrow moments ago. Other than that, at least a few dozen machine guns lined the bow of the ship, with a gunner manning it and their muzzles trained at Tyr’s vessel. They were only an order away from firing. So, who was it? Which organization in Japan was actually capable enough to have dozens of machine guns installed, ready to fire, on their ship? “It’s them, Kamikakushi!” shouted someone from one of the ships.

The docks were not busy and, at the end of the main one, a large familiar ship was tied up. “That, Cai,” he was pointing to the ship, “Is the Silver Hawk.” “It’s nice, but I’ve never been on a ship.” “Not to worry, I know the captain, and he is the best in all of Menia.” She held his arm and he smiled. “Let’s go.” Arm in arm they walked down the dock and stopped in front of the ship. The ropes creaked as the ship rocked up and down. Men were moving about taking care of everything, adjusting and mending pieces of equipment all around.

Everything was prepared, and there was already an abundance of fresh water and food on the ship. Noir had prepared a very large ship. In terms of tonnage, it was the largest ship in the sea apart from military vessels. Before boarding the ship, Leon suddenly stopped, knelt in the direction of the sea, and muttered something under his breath solemnly, “Ami-ama-nalu...” After bowing, he stood up again. Noir asked curiously, “What were you doing?”

The Vamoos ship was more than five hundred feet long and consisted of a ram scoop, some very complex separators, and six cylinders, each of which was divided into multiple tanks. As with all the Vamoos race, the intelligence who controlled the ship and served as its single crew member was known by his job description, a rather lengthy affair that filled the brains of no less than 107 nonsentient storage beings, but could be Summerized as: "The one who travels vast distances in search of materials required to repair, maintain, and further Vamoos infrastructure to the benefit of the race".

Moving back to Gerald and his party, it wasn’t long before the five of them arrived at the dock. Under the old man’s lead, they soon saw a small cargo ship—that had been anchored near the docks—bearing the logo of Yamashita family… Before they even got to the ship, a man came running up to them before saying, “Third Elder! Just as you’ve requested, we’ve prepared enough oil in the cargo ship for you to head back and forth from Japan to Yanam up to three times!”

“Lady Ever—” “No names.” Becky lifted a hand without slowing. “Not mine. Not yours. Not tonight.” The man bowed his head. “As you wish.” “Is the ship ready?” “Aye.” He jerked his chin toward the vessel moored at the far end of the dock. It was a weather-beaten cargo ship, hull patched, sails rolled, the Eastwind insignia freshly painted over with a darker, unfamiliar crest. “False flag, false registry, false manifests. No one’ll track where she’s goin’.”