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Upon gazing at the vast expanse of the great blue ocean, one could only see a fleeting, luxurious yacht maneuvering through the waters like a rocket, leaving in its wake scatterings of white splash where it passed.
At the helm of the yacht sat a woman, clad in a casual attire of a pale yellow T-shirt, paired with a set of green, casual skinny jeans. Her hands were tightly gripping the steering wheel of the vessel, her palms damp with cold sweat. Her loose curls shone brilliantly under the sun, making her radiate a striking aura despite wearing dark sunglasses. Her furrowed brows belied her anxiety and haste.
This woman was none other than Faye Owen, rushing to search for and rescue Yves King and his team.