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Mexico. Tijuana seaport.
Here, one could see quite a number of cargo ships.
Even in the sea, there was an abundance of fish leaping into the air, their bodies shimmering brightly under the sunset.
Honk honk honk!~
A cargo ship bearing the Italian flag approached the port, blowing its horn.
The travel-weary Best and a squad from the Omega A Team descended the gangway, and the moment their feet touched the ground, even the storm-hardened Best couldn't help but shed tears!
Drifting at sea for half a month was pure agony for someone like him who suffered from seasickness.
Even taking a crap felt difficult due to insufficient gravity, often leading to constipation.
"Finally back!" exclaimed Khalid Baskabilu, the leader of the Omega A Team, his beard scruffy and eyes weary, "We're back!"
His voice was loud!
The dockworkers next to them looked at him as if he were mad.
"Mr. Best~" Just then, an Italian dressed in a captain's uniform descended, "Are you leaving?"
