Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics-Chapter 5560 - 586: Day of Absolute Light (6)
"The revolver is a very reliable weapon; it almost never jams, is unaffected by weak wrist effects, and can be loaded with large-caliber bullets. Its stopping power and lethality are excellent, the only problem is the loud noise and flash when fired, making it unsuitable for covert operations."
The man sitting at the table was holding a Colt Python. This was a rather beautiful revolver, loaded with .357 Magnum bullets. Through the cylinder, one could see the excessively large bullets that quite deserved the name.
"As long as you like it," Diana Prince, sitting opposite him, scrutinized the man. He wore a slim tactical outfit, looking lean yet quite powerful. His tone when discussing firearms was overly flippant—proof that he was seasoned, yet lacked respect for lethal force, or perhaps he did not consider firearms to be his most deadly forces.
"I had the privilege of meeting that professor once," Diana said, "You’re very different from him. I know you both have your own legendary stories. But now, Mr. Rodriguez, we need you to depart for Egypt immediately. A French arms dealer named Hesingnag has removed a crucial artifact from the Metropolitan Museum, and hidden within it is the secret of the person we’re seeking."
The handgun was gently placed on the table. Those sharp gray eyes lifted, looking at Diana before saying, "Losing Batman has completely dulled your senses. Since that item is so important, why would you let it be taken by an outsider arms dealer?"
"On the level of artifact value, it’s not a priceless treasure. The Metropolitan Museum has a series of complex artifact protection and return agreements with France and many small African countries, which is beyond my capacity."
"Yet, you still want to use illegal means to reclaim it."
"Whether the means are illegal depends on whom I’m looking for." Diana leaned back, looking at him and said, "If you can’t make everything appear moral and legal, then don’t look."
"Are you talking about yourself?"
"Not just myself, sir. Be swift and light, preferably resolving everything before it becomes irreparable. I can tell you excel at this."
With a "click," a bullet was loaded into the revolver. When the cylinder spun, you could hear the wind sound; and at the moment it stopped, the entire room quieted down.
The man stood up, looking down at Diana and said, "You hired me to solve this trouble, like letting a snake bite its tail. You will understand that this is not a good idea, ma’am."
"The plane to Cairo takes off in an hour and a half. I wish you a safe journey, sir." Diana simply said.
After the man walked out the door, Diana let out a long breath. She was very aware of how things had turned out this way, but she was helpless.
The process of collapse was incredibly fast: from Batman’s strange energy stream left by the Lantern Furnace to the anomalies suddenly appearing in the mural from Ancient Egypt, to the artifact transfer agreements signed unknowingly, and that cunning French arms dealer, Hesingnag. By the time the "Frenes Snake" embarked on the journey to Egypt, it was already too late.
Though worried, Diana had not reached the point of insanity to hijack the plane; she had to get back that item, as it could very likely point to the First Lantern that the Multiverse is searching for.
It’s not that she wants to conceal this secret, but spreading it has no benefit. Not to mention it might lead to a loss of trust from other Justice Leagues in the Multiverse towards the Prime Universe, and the Black Death Emperor watching from the sidelines is not to be trifled with. Having finally gained some clues, we absolutely cannot have problems during the investigation.
Diana sat back down and rubbed her brow. She knew hiring Shiller was not a good choice. The Primary Universe Batman had emphasized several times, even though he had a good personal relationship with that professor, he does not advise anyone from the Justice League to contact him—any of him.
The Main Universe Wonder Woman had little interaction with Shiller. She had seen him, knew him, but did not understand him. The reason she was able to find him was that the Primary Universe Batman had hired him before, and more than once. Diana obtained Shiller’s contact through Owen, the administrator of the Battleworld, and then hired this Shiller whom Batman referred to as the "best agent."
Diana was not a stingy employer. She knew money was meaningless, so she specially asked her brother to craft a very suitable weapon for the other party—a version of Colt Python made of Fire God Metal, complete with 12 enchanted .357 Magnum bullets with auto-return capabilities.
For ordinary people, this was a very powerful weapon. Even the Divine Power Magic cast upon it drew a puzzled glance from her brother, the Fire God. Diana knew he might be worried if she finally wanted to kill Hera.
But she had no choice; that arms dealer named Hesingnag must have mysterious powers backing him. Egypt, that place also had quite some implications. To let someone bare-handedly fight their way out there is irresponsible.
Diana looked out at the blue sky from the bay window. She had a premonition, this time it won’t be a coincidence. The Black Death Emperor does indeed have plans for the Prime Universe; he’s just waiting for an appropriate opportunity to crush them. Perhaps now is the right time.
On the Boeing 787 bound for Cairo, a flight attendant gently awakened the man who was resting with his eyes closed, saying in a soft tone, "Hello, sir, I’m glad to serve you. Here are the menu and wine list for this flight. What would you like?"
Shiller took the magazine off his face, glanced at the menu, and said, "I’m not hungry, please just give me a glass of warm water."
"Alright, sir, please hold..." The flight attendant suddenly froze. Because out of the corner of her eye, she saw another flight attendant in the corridor leading to the prep area being held at gunpoint, while another man holding a long spear stood in the center of the aisle. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢
"Now everyone put down what’s in your hands, raise your hands above the seat back and let me see every finger. Flight attendants come out of the prep area, stand facing the luggage rack, hands on the nearest seat back. The purser repeat what I say."
All the flight attendants walked out of the prep area. Some of them were trembling terribly, unsure where to place their hands. The purser seemed a bit more experienced, but still trembled while repeating the other’s words.
"Very good. Pick up your intercom and repeat after me to the cockpit: ’The cabin is completely controlled by guns and ample ammunition. Any reckless move will result in death, so don’t try to resist. Now, immediately navigate the plane to the Tiran Strait, they can use professional equipment to judge the plane’s trajectory, and there are people hidden among the passengers, don’t try little tricks.’"
The purser shakily repeated it through. Her tone was slow and frequently forgot words, but the other was not angry at all, even teaching her word by word with extreme patience.
Shiller’s hands were placed on the back of the seat in front, allowing him to slightly turn his head under the cover of his arms. Through the reflection on the hairpin of the flight attendant who had just served him and now stood beside him, he could vaguely see the hijacker’s appearance.
It was an ordinary middle-aged man in a suit. The one with the handgun was taller, with a neatly trimmed beard; the one with the long spear was shorter but stronger. Beyond that, nothing could be discerned.
The Boeing 787-10 is a very spacious wide-body aircraft. Business class has two aisles with four rows of seats, seats are angled, the outer two rows tilt outward, the inner two rows tilt inward. There are two rows with eight seats in first class. Shiller sat on the far right of the second row. The robber stood slightly forward at the junction of business and economy class.
This flight wasn’t very crowded, most passengers were in business class, economy class only had the front few rows filled. From the robber’s position, it’s easy to deduce he was telling the truth—there should be people among the passengers too. Otherwise, they should stand at the last filled seats in economy class, to see everyone’s moves. Given they didn’t, it means there are people in economy class.
Within a few seconds, Shiller judged that this group of hijackers was very professional. Whether it was the timing of showing up, the way they held guns, or the hijacking process, it was very skillful. The most crucial part was their demanding to go to the Tiran Strait, rather than any airport, proving they might require a water landing. And doing so is usually for a certain key individual on the plane.
Heading to a city or airport might be to carry out a terrorist attack or fulfill some demand. A sea landing is different; the plane landing in the sea becomes an isolated island, any rescue can’t come faster than a bullet. Even if they go through some effort to screen, it’s enough to kill the target individual.
Could they be coming for him? Shiller rarely thought about such things, because even if not, hijackers usually wouldn’t spare him. For experienced hijackers, Shiller evidently didn’t look like an ordinary person. As long as they noticed something off, they wouldn’t mind killing one more to silence him.
"Don’t move." Shiller maintained his posture, whispering to the flight attendant, "When I count three, two, one later, you just leap forward, and cover your ears as much as possible. No matter what happens, don’t get up."
"What are you going to do? Sir..." The flight attendant’s tone was anxious, "You can’t confront them directly, it could get everyone on the plane killed..."
"The water landing won’t succeed," Shiller said, "someone is definitely waiting for them in Egypt."
The flight attendant trembled again, seemingly understanding Shiller’s meaning. Every hijacking in this world results from multi-party conflicts as disasters. The fate of the plane is long beyond their control, possibly even beyond the hijackers’ control.
"Three... two... one!"
"Bang!!!!!!"
The instant the revolver fired, the massive sound and shock nearly blew up the cabin. Until a second before pulling the trigger, Shiller hadn’t realized how powerful this modified revolver was—the fire spray reached half a meter long, and the immense gunshot echoing continually in the closed cabin made Shiller’s ears instantly bleed, dizzying him for at least a second.
His hand trembled on the gun as the bullets with tracking features flew back into the gun. When Shiller stood up, he staggered a bit, confirming that his eardrums hadn’t survived. The good news was, the lower halves of the two hijackers had already flown away. The bad news was everyone looked at him with eyes more fearful than at the hijackers.
"Damn it." Shiller cursed under his breath, he shouldn’t have believed that the demigods from Mount Olympus would have any correct understanding of human weaponry—this thing was only different from a tank barrel by not being flexible.
