Chapter 4544: Brightest Day (X)

The scorching flames burned past the edge of the black and yellow armor, the bullets shattered the terrorists rushing from behind, and the huge sound made the waves at the bottom of the ship tremble. The tall figure looked back in a daze, seeing the corpses shattered into pieces, and turned his head to look at the revolver: "Where the hell did this tank cannon barrel come from?!"

This weapon master actually missed the requirements of the humanitarian convention at this moment—it was said that anti-aircraft guns were not allowed to be placed horizontally!!!

And the rest of the terrorists who rushed over with the shattered target, after seeing this scene, slammed on the brakes. And the professional mercenary quality made the unsheathed sword spin at high speed like the blade of a meat grinder, cutting the others into pieces.

The deck was blood red. The remaining few terrorists resisted stubbornly, still wanting to shoot, but after discovering that the bullets were completely blocked by the big sword and armor, they shouted something in the local language and jumped into the sea directly.

That tall figure didn't continue to chase, but put the big sword back behind him, turned his head to look at Schiller leaning against the cabin. He tidied up his slightly wrinkled gloves, hugged his arms and looked at Schiller and said: "The Federal Bureau of Investigation can't even afford a pair of earplugs?"

Schiller ignored him, just wiped the blood on his ears by himself. He certainly recognized who this tall and strong mercenary was, but his appearance here was definitely not good news.

Deathstroke. The world's strongest mercenary, a weapon master who is proficient in almost all weapons. The highest mountain and longest river in the Teen Titans' enemy pool, he only does three things when he goes to Gotham: eat, sleep, and beat Robin.

Of course, having trouble with the little birds of the Batman family is just his side job, he is a serious killer mercenary. In this way, it is not strange to appear in Africa and the Middle East.

But in fact, Deathstroke takes the high-end route, basically only taking assassination jobs, and won't be a cannon fodder for others. The situation near the Red Sea is chaotic, but there are no decent orders. It is suspicious that he will appear here.

Deathstroke also seemed to realize that Schiller couldn't hear him. He lowered his head and pulled out a needle from his belt, threw it to Schiller, and said: "Anti-inflammatory drug. Tell me what you are doing here?"

Schiller took the needle and looked at it, and said sincerely: "Big help." Then added in his heart: "Especially for Egypt."

After the injection, the medicine didn't take effect so quickly. The two of them sat on the seats at the back of the deck. Schiller could feel his body temperature dropping. While checking the gun he got from the hijacker, he said: "Believe it or not, I really didn't chase you. Originally I thought this group of people was looking for me, but now it seems that I blocked the disaster for you."

"That's not necessarily true," Deathstroke said, "On the way here, I met someone setting up a card. They specifically catch white skins, and even those who don't look like armed personnel were caught together. This is obviously the trouble you caused."

Schiller narrowed his eyes. This is not quite right. That group of hijackers should have thought they were dead, after all, they watched the plane sink with their own eyes. If they were really looking for him, it proved that it wasn't just one party who wanted him dead.

"What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?"

The two asked almost in unison. Deathstroke didn't know where he got a can of soda, he lifted the lower half of his mask and took a sip of water, then said: "A conflict broke out between two armed forces, one of which intercepted a ship of my employer, and transported the things on it to a place where they shouldn't go by land. I have to find the things back or destroy them to avoid involving people who shouldn't be involved."

Deathstroke said this as if he didn't say it. This kind of thing happens countless times every day in this place. However, in this regard, Schiller is even more of an expert. He said: "A batch of important goods flowed here through illegal violent channels. I have to ensure that the goods and people can return, or go to see God on time."

This kind of thing is really too common. In this whole area, whether all the straits available for cargo ships can be transported depends on luck. More than half of the year is spent avoiding missiles, and the remaining half is spent fighting wits and courage with pirates. Any strange situation can happen.

"Great," Deathstroke said, "We can do our own things. You better be as you said, not coming for me. Otherwise, even the tank cannon barrel in your hand won't save you—by the way, where did this thing come from?"

"That's a long story, do you know Zeus?"

Before Deathstroke could answer, the ship shook violently, and the whole ship almost tilted to the side. Schiller subconsciously grabbed the seat armrest, and because Deathstroke was too heavy, he directly broke the armrest he was holding and hit the railing opposite heavily.

Then the ship turned back, which caused both of them to hit the wall of the cabin heavily. This impact was a fatal blow to Schiller's dominant hand, and a sharp pain came from the scapula, if there were no accidents, it should be a hairline fracture.

Then the ship began to tilt slowly in the other direction, this should be hit and sinking. People on the ship also began to scream and escape. Schiller touched the front of the deck and looked at the ship that hit them. It should be a small armed force in the local area, but no matter what, it can be considered a regular army. All uniform headscarf camouflage standard weapons, and someone even fired at the deck.

Then they got the retribution they deserved. Deathstroke jumped down from the sky, killing the other party and throwing away their armor. The blood color dyed the sea red again, but Schiller had a bad premonition.

"Come back!!" He shouted at the ship.

BOOM!!!!!! Violent flames rushed into the sky, and the ship, which was not big, exploded into a small mushroom cloud. Schiller didn't see Deathstroke, only saw a two-handed sword blown ten meters high, slowly falling onto the sea surface.

After the gunfire stopped with the explosion, Schiller rushed to the other side of the deck and looked down holding the railing. The seawater had been completely dyed deep red, and it looked like there were no survivors. But an explosion of this degree could not kill Deathstroke, he might just be stunned.

Or it might just be a short brain blank caused by violent vibration. This is the disadvantage of wearing a mask without a full-wrap helmet when playing cool, the shock absorption ability is too poor. Face-to-face explosion is hard.

Sure enough, a black and yellow figure floated up from the sea surface, the armor was not even damaged much, but it was obviously a bit dizzy from the shock. Schiller threw the water pipe next to him down. Soon, Deathstroke, who had recovered, shook his head, swam toward this side, and climbed up holding the water pipe.

Schiller looked at him. This professional equipment is really not given for nothing. Face-to-face with a missile, the mushroom cloud exploded, and the corner of the clothes was only slightly dirty. However, what made him a bit puzzled was why Deathstroke jumped up. This tactical master couldn't have thought that the other party might commit a suicide attack.

Before he could ask, Deathstroke said: "I knew the ship would explode, but I still had to snatch the ship. Otherwise, do you expect this thing to send us to the destination?"

The two of them looked at the ship under their feet. At this time, the ship had sunk very badly, and most people had jumped off the ship. The two of them didn't jump, not because this ship was worth nostalgic, but because no one could guarantee that the next ship wouldn't be like this.

The two stood at the bow of the ship that was about to sink, speechless. Deathstroke looked at Schiller first and said: "It seems your story along the way is very exciting."

"I'm afraid yours is not bad either," Schiller also looked at him and said.

"Nothing, just being chased by law enforcement agencies from 16 countries all the way from Norway to here." Deathstroke said indifferently.

Schiller opened his mouth and didn't speak again. He thought that hijacking a wide-body passenger plane was already a big move, but he didn't expect there to be a master. Deathstroke really lived up to his name as the world's number one mercenary.

Schiller didn't want to get entangled with such a person, because he didn't need fame to take orders. Or rather, his fame now is a bit too big, which led to the lady who made the handheld tank cannon barrel finding him. Although he didn't know who wanted to chase Deathstroke across half the earth, he definitely got into big trouble. Acting with him, I'm afraid he will be involved in a bigger vortex.

But it is obvious that if he doesn't cooperate with him, the road to Egypt will be more difficult. It can only be said that this place in the Middle East is still too complicated.

In fact, Schiller hadn't been here before. Although the agency he was in was not responsible for foreign law enforcement, his scope of authority was larger than stipulated. He had also participated in some actions in the nearby area.

But when he was performing missions, the country he "represented" still had very strong control here. Although various small armed groups emerged one after another, very few people would go to stroke the tiger's beard, let alone chase so aggressively and crazily.

Obviously, the bald eagle in this universe is a bit too faceless, and it looks like it doesn't care about this mess at all. As a result, it is hundreds of times more chaotic than Schiller's cognition. All sizes of forces emerge one after another, killing and stealing without any cover, which can be called demons dancing

Now, Shiler understands Diana a little bit. Originally, he thought, how hard could it be for a demigod to fly to Egypt and retrieve an artifact? Now it seems, one slap from an agent, two slaps from a mercenary, and a demigod is even more like the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms. He came empty-handed, but how could he leave without hauling away a few tons of missiles?

However, this situation is a good thing for a mercenary like Deathstroke. After all, the people chasing him might not dare to wade into these muddy waters. He dove headfirst into the mud pit, and the other side probably wouldn't dare to jump in after him. Even if there were law enforcement officers lying in ambush on this ship, seeing the explosion just now, they should have all disguised themselves as passengers and snuck off the ship. This is not a place where they can run wild.

"Let's cooperate." Shiler rolled up his sleeves, rested his hands on the railing at the bow, and stared at the deep blue sea and the clear sky. This is the greatest advantage of this place: it is always sunny, incredibly clear. The overly intense ultraviolet rays forced him to frown, his brow bone pressing tightly against his eyes.

"I never cooperate with law enforcement."

"Excuse me, my hearing is impaired, I can't hear very clearly. Could you say that again?" Shiler flicked the cylinder of his revolver; the subtle humming of the mechanical structure was very faint, but it could be transmitted through the railing.

"You have a good gun." Deathstroke looked at the revolver in his hand and then said, "But it looks like you can't handle it very well."

"Perhaps the reality is exactly the opposite of what it looks like." Shiler put the gun away and looked at the cargo ship slowly approaching in the distance. "If you hadn't given me that anti-inflammatory shot, we would have a new ship by now."