Because the ship was so large, although there was specialized personnel watching over the cargo hold, it was relatively safe at sea, so those tasked with its care were not particularly diligent. This lax attitude bestowed upon Yang Jiawei a sliver of survival space as he was secretly aboard. He was now curled up inside the sweltering cargo hold, peering through a ventilation hole barely larger than a fist at the sky outside.
He had been adrift on the ship for ten days. During this time, his food came from sneaking past cameras to forage scraps in the kitchen in the dead of night, and on occasion, he also ate some of the ship's rats and cockroaches, but he didn't care in the least. He sat quietly, repeatedly looking at a photo that had yellowed from excessive handling and a stack of materials he had stolen from the police station about Pan Ang, as well as the report on his Awen that he had swiped from Gu Tao.
