The eight mercenaries instantly hardened their expressions and replied in unison, "Understood."
Jerrick pulled up the new schematic the crew had just transmitted, tapping his finger against a few newly highlighted red corridors.
"On top of your standard patrol duties, memorize these new security vectors. Note which doors have been unexpectedly locked, which zones have reinforced manpower, and log every single person entering or exiting the specialized medical wing."
The mercenaries exchanged a quick glance, immediately grasping Fenris's true objective.
These men were Jerrick's most trusted confidants.
They didn't ask questions; they executed orders. "Copy that."
The eight men quickly dispersed.
They maintained their two-man formations.
On the surface, they were flawlessly executing the crew's new patrol mandates.
In reality, they were already quietly mapping out every single security shift in the lower-mid levels.
Jerrick stood alone at the end of the corridor, his gaze fixed in the direction of The Sanctum Vault.
On the freshly updated map, three new red quarantine lines had been drawn around the vault's perimeter.
And the specialized medical wing was perfectly sandwiched between The Med-Tech Quarantine and the outer shell of the vault.
The commotion emanating from that sector earlier had been significant.
Even stationed this far out on the perimeter patrol, they had felt the faint tremors through the floorboards.
Immediately after, the crew escalated the threat level across the entire lower deck.
The Merchant's Quarter had also suspended the special cargo preview.
And now, even the corridor outside the medical wing had been abruptly handed over to his Fenris Squad.
It wasn't hard to connect the dots.
The batch of Semi-Finished Assets Grandpa Grant had warned them about must have suffered a catastrophic failure.
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