Chapter 4548: Day of White (14)

The violent traits Deathstroke showed him included being able to walk away unscathed from a terrifying explosion at will, offending everyone in the world who shouldn't be offended, being hunted across half the globe yet remaining unscathed, and being at ease when facing the siege of dozens of people and dozens of guns. All of this was taken by Schiller as some kind of insurance measure.

Deathstroke clearly knew that today's scene was definitely not something common for this man in front of him; one could even say that before he arrived, Schiller was trying his best to avoid such a situation.

However, after discovering that Deathstroke could stop him, Schiller didn't spend too much thought on this. Perhaps for Schiller, this was a good thing, because indulging oneself is much simpler than restraint, but for Deathstroke, it was a bit like an iron discus falling from the sky.

Schiller gave Deathstroke a hint very politely, and Deathstroke was unwilling to admit that his brain, full of potential, hadn't fully understood the mystery, so he could only pinch his nose and accept it, even without any room for criticism. Because if he had chosen to leave while at sea, Schiller wouldn't have let himself lose control at all, Egypt wouldn't have had any danger, and he could have completed his mission.

But because he didn't take those words to heart and didn't grab the only rope in the whirlpool at the right time, he was now completely unable to climb out.

The destruction brought by Schiller's loss of control was astonishing; this not only injured Deathstroke but also meant he couldn't leave at this time. He had no responsibility to protect Egypt, but the professional ethics of the strongest mercenary made him need to do his best to ensure no bombs went off.

Yes, if it were just a mission, he could give it up; after all, the losses were already great enough, and the cost of repairing the metal coating of the greatsword alone outweighed the mission reward. But he couldn't add a big trouble to the employer while not completing the mission; that would completely ruin his reputation in the industry.

Without a doubt, Schiller was a huge trouble; if he just left him in Egypt like this, the good industry image he had worked so hard to establish would collapse overnight, which was absolutely not allowed.

Clearly, this was a trap; Deathstroke knew very well that Schiller had become a sunk cost he couldn't discard, and this must have been intentional by Schiller; the current situation was created by Schiller single-handedly.

"Cunning kid." Deathstroke sighed. He subconsciously touched his chin, then froze, realizing he was in a young state now, and saying this was really a bit strange. After pursing his lips, he said: "You want to talk, right?"

He sat opposite the sofa, but used his legs to push the sofa back to the other wall; he had to protect the last piece of furniture, he still had to sleep here tonight.

Schiller cleared his throat and almost confessed his entire mission, because he understood that Deathstroke was already on the pirate ship and wouldn't be getting off anytime soon.

The strategy for dealing with Deathstroke came from experience in his past life. Schiller had dealt with quite a few mercenary killers, and their greatest weakness was their reputation.

The mercenary circle is very small; famous killers around the world might not know each other, but the brokers who can give them business definitely know all of them and know each other.

This means that once someone among them does something stupid, they will be blacklisted by almost everyone. The business of licking blood from a knife's edge is not easy to do; behind the huge profits are huge risks, and no one is willing to spend hundreds or even millions of dollars, contributing the only opportunity to act, in exchange for a rookie's guarantee. Making oneself look as smart and cautious as possible is a required course for killers.

Ruining their reputation is simpler than ruining them themselves. Once a mission ends in an extremely ugly way, their killer career is basically declared over. After all, no one can never make a mistake, but there is always someone in their prime who never misses.

Deathstroke had been in this line for too long, his reputation was too great, and his prime was too long, so he could be called a myth in the killer world. This had advantages and disadvantages; the advantage was that he could get many good orders based on this reputation, and the disadvantage was that he couldn't make mistakes; otherwise, those newcomers who wanted to climb up would definitely try every means to step on him.

They had no way to defeat Deathstroke, but they could use this to cause trouble, making employers and brokers disappointed in him, which would definitely lead to a loss of a large number of clients, and like other killers, he would gradually go downhill.

Deathstroke himself was very clear about this, so he had to cherish his feathers more than others; whoever dared to ruin his mission, he would mess with them, even Robin would be beaten. For this reason, he had no possibility of getting rid of Schiller.

Deathstroke now began to dislike his overdeveloped brain a little. If he weren't so smart, he would have just left Schiller behind, but precisely because he realized he couldn't do that, he could only start patiently analyzing what was going on with Schiller's mission.

"If, as you said, that swindler from France used the legal cultural relic transfer convention to take the collection away, then don't think about grabbing it back, because this will make the cultural relic unable to see the light of day again, which is definitely not what your employer wants."

"How do you know?" Schiller said, "As far as I know, he wants to get this thing back, not because it's worth much money, but because it has some special research uses."

"He's just saying that." Deathstroke curled his lips and said, "If a person doesn't care about the monetary value of something at all, but only for academic research, then where did he get the money to hire you?"

"I'm not a mercenary; let's stop guessing the employer's intentions, and I don't intend to have him give me a good review..."

"Oh, I see, national reputation and beliefs, right? Well, this is why I call you blue-skinned dogs and it's not wronging you; only dogs are unconditionally loyal."

"I think your emotions are a bit agitated now." Schiller said, "You put too much energy into complaining and blaming, which is clearly not conducive to our communication, or we can wait until you calm down..."

"I'm not good at this." Deathstroke said, "Usually, I don't need teamwork to complete a mission perfectly. Although it's not impossible to communicate, but as soon as I think about you causing me to take a bullet earlier, I find it hard to be calm."

"How about this." Schiller said, "I promised you earlier that when we got to Egypt, I would give you this gun, but because this might be the only weapon that can withstand my strength, I might have to keep it, but I can find a way to have the weapon manufacturer get you one you want, how about that?"

"Tell me more." Deathstroke immediately leaned forward with interest. He had a small hobby that was also considered widely known, which was collecting all kinds of powerful weapons. Currently, his greatsword was the best, but again, it was better at defense than attack, and in terms of manipulating tank barrels, he didn't think he was inferior to Schiller.

"Give me a phone." Schiller said.

"The signal here might be blocked; if you want to call back to the US directly, you might need..."

"No, I'm sure she can receive it." Schiller took the satellite phone from Deathstroke's hand, dialed the number, and quickly contacted Diana. However, because he was now completely deaf and couldn't even hear some words, he still had to rely on Deathstroke to translate for him.

"Hello? Good news, I've arrived in Egypt; bad news, the ticket cost is a bit high..."

"Tell me, how much?" Diana had clearly resigned herself to her fate, "As long as you don't make me repeat our honeymoon trip in Paris again."

"It was Barcelona, ma'am."

Deathstroke's eyes widened, his gaze moving back and forth between Schiller and the satellite phone. Schiller continued: "There's a weapon master who needs a gun suitable for him..."

"No, let's make it a sword." Deathstroke added.

"Oh, he wants a sword, just a weapon similar to that Colt Python, it was forged by your brother, right?"

"Since you know it was forged by my brother, you should understand that it's not something just anyone can use..."

"The person using it is Deathstroke."

"Deathstroke, that killer? How did you get mixed up with him?"

"Sorry, ma'am, I have to interrupt, it's not that I want to get mixed up with him, you don't even know your husband..."

Schiller reached out and pushed him away—because the strength was too great, he almost slammed him directly into the wall, and the sofa by the wall was also unfortunately ruined. He covered the receiver and said to Deathstroke: "The person on the other side is Wonder Woman."

"Oh, God, you bagged Wonder Woman?!"

"That was just a joke." Schiller said.

"I wish it weren't, so I could send you back to the Amazon." Deathstroke was extremely disappointed; actually, the Amazon was quite far from here, but if he could get rid of Schiller, he would be willing to run this distance.

"I won't forge weapons for killers." Diana said.

"Unless he can help you complete the mission." Schiller said, "Before you sent me here, you didn't tell me that the Red Sea area was already nearly completely out of control, and the situation was much more complex than I imagined."

"I thought you could handle it, especially since I gave you a powerful weapon."

"Heh." Schiller sneered.

Diana didn't seem to understand why he had this reaction; in her view, a multiverse mercenary who could make the main universe Batman a repeat customer should be able to handle things on Earth with ease. Batman didn't forge divine artifacts for him, and she had specially made a trip to the Vulcan Temple, which was already enough.

"The situation becoming like this, the weapon you gave me has to take at least 50% of the responsibility." Schiller said.

He wasn't exaggerating; in fact, the moment the first gunshot damaged his eardrum, things had already spiraled out of control. Because he missed the damage of the gunshot, it would take at least one more shot to seize another gun; a rapid decline in health in a short period would lead to him needing to spend a lot of energy to maintain his own control, and the energy available for focusing on the mission would become very little, so things were destined not to go smoothly.

Deathstroke's arrival provided another way to solve things, better than the previous one, but the root cause was still that broken gun. Schiller really didn't expect that the thick-browed and big-eyed Wonder Woman could pit him in this regard. Sure enough, choosing the right employer is still very important; Batman wouldn't do such a thing.

"Gun? What's wrong with the gun?" Diana asked, puzzled, "I instructed my brother, the more powerful the better, and it must have enough deterrent power; I checked it by firing it before giving it to you..."

"You checked it?!" Schiller was truly shocked, "So you knew how much of a stir firing it would cause?!"

"That's why I said it's a good weapon." Diana emphasized, "I've also participated in wars, and I'm sure if you take this gun to the battlefield, all your enemies will flee in panic."

Schiller couldn't help but cover his eyes; how could he forget that Wonder Woman had participated in two wars, and both were on the front-line battlefields known as meat grinders. Her understanding of human thermal weapons was not low; the only problem was—the front-line battlefield pursues firepower suppression. ===== CHAPTER 4549 =====