Love Unspoken

As he spoke, Hetastian glanced at Walter, who was smiling broadly. "Do you have a solution?"

Walter replied, "Of course I do, but you all want to kill me. I have no reason to help you, right?" Hetastian and Alistair exchanged a glance.

At a critical moment, Alistair wasn't foolish enough to risk his own life.

He released Walter's collar and apologized with a stiff face. "Sorry, buddy. I was impulsive and misunderstood you."

Hetastian also said, "I'm really sorry. Because you all suddenly burst in, it was natural for us to think it was you. But now that the misunderstanding is cleared up; we owe you an apology." Walter smiled but didn't continue to entangle with them; after all, he still needed their help.

Walter said, "You get someone to take all the fuel from the cruise ship. I'll get someone to bring the yacht over, but the yacht can't fit so many people. You decide quickly who to take with you." Hetastian agreed immediately. "Okay, no problem!"

The warehouse where the fuel was stored had yet to be flooded, so it was still possible to retrieve it. He didn't want to waste time.

He asked Alistair to take people to get the fuel while he counted and determined who must be taken away. Walter also took out a walkie-talkie and instructed those people to bring the yacht over. They should still be close behind; with Walter's command, they would probably have been waiting at sea.

Quinn finally regained some strength in her body. She pushed the man off her with all her might, got up from the ground, and searched for something on the yacht that could help stop his bleeding. After searching for a while, she found a few white towels and two bottles of disinfectant.

towards Alexander with the items. Running too fast, she stumbled and fell, the disinfectant rolling far away, leaving a

the pain, Quinn got up, picked

were lights on the yacht; and she could

completely soaked with blood on the back. Although no blood was visible; a touch

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had dropped earlier and cut open his shirt from the wound. She saw the wound on Alexander's back. Although the wound was not wide, it was deep; and blood was still flowing out. Quinn didn't know what to do, so she could only press the towel against the wound,

the area under the towel was gradually turning red, the color spreading out little

tears uncontrollably streamed down Quinn's

around at the vast sea and saw no one to

phone. But there was no signal when she turned

held him helplessly, tears mixing with the

He showed no reaction.

of reading with others and spread the word. The next

time, she cried so sadly; and

Quinn called, "Alexander."