Chapter 4564

This series of actions made Deathstroke a bit speechless. It wasn't very high at all, was it necessary?

But he suddenly remembered that Shiler's condition was worse, the better his condition was. Suddenly he felt that this distance was also a bit dangerous. He should find something to cushion his feet. Otherwise, if he accidentally fell and lost a piece of blood into a berserk state, there would be nowhere to hide in the elevator shaft.

The door of the elevator at the bottom was easy to handle, and didn't even need a sword to cut it open. Deathstroke could pull it open with his hands. He stuck his fingernails into the crack of the elevator door, used a little force with his arms, and the door opened smoothly.

However, that curator was indeed cunning, and also put an alarm device outside the door. After the door was opened abnormally, all the machines started to sound at the same time, and the lights went out completely.

"You be careful," Shiler said to Deathstroke.

"Shouldn't you be the one being careful?" Deathstroke didn't mean to joke, and he said, "I assume you don't have night vision, and now you are in a state of hearing impairment. If a few enemies really rush out, can you handle it?"

"What you said is indeed reasonable." What exceeded Deathstroke's expectations was that Shiler didn't make excuses, nor did he come up with any amazing solutions, and just nodded to admit it.

"Then you plan to..."

Shiler suddenly turned his head. Those gray eyes shone in the dim corridor. "Change people."

This time, Deathstroke keenly sensed something. Shiler soon stood up straight, sized up the surrounding environment, and then noticed the clothes he was wearing.

"Oh, this is really not bad."

"You..."

"Long time no see," Shiler turned back and looked at him with a smile, and said, "The last thing was my fault. Glad to see you already have a solution."

This blocked all the words Deathstroke wanted to say. He opened his mouth, feeling he couldn't complain anymore. So he said: "So you two just changed people like this?"

Shiler nodded and said: "It doesn't count as changing people, just different traits. Of course, if you don't understand, you can also understand it as changing people."

After speaking, he put one hand in his pocket and walked toward the depths of the corridor. Deathstroke hurriedly followed, and then said: "You really can see?"

"What are you referring to?"

"I don't know, just everything," Deathstroke said, "You said last time you saw the murderer. How did you see it?"

"Of course not through appearance," Shiler said, "Emotions? Moods? No matter what you think. But anyway, they are some abstract, indescribable things; if you haven't seen them, you will never understand."

"Fine, I'll take it as large-scale mind reading," Deathstroke said, "Since he said he worked in the museum before, what were you doing in the museum?"

"You want to ask me, since I was already in the museum, why didn't I go find that cultural relic, right?"

Deathstroke nodded, and Shiler continued: "Why would I want to find it?"

"But you..." Deathstroke said here, suddenly remembering what Shiler had said to him about "self-confrontation," "You aren't enemies, are you?"

"It hasn't reached that point yet," Shiler's tone was very relaxed, and he said, "That mural was all made by me. Why would I still go find it?"

"...... What?" Deathstroke suspected he had heard wrong.

And Shiler didn't give him the interest to repeat it or explain it in detail. He continued to walk inside, suddenly stopped, found a room, pushed the door open, and walked in. Soon, a team of security personnel hurried past, shouting something in their mouths.

These people's Arabic didn't have such a heavy accent, and Deathstroke could probably understand it. Anyway, they were saying something about intruders.

This made Deathstroke suspicious too. Generally speaking, if uninvited guests appear in the museum, most people would think they are robbers or thieves. "Intruder" is what the hell? This isn't some nobleman's private territory. However, it might be.

Just this short address made Deathstroke realize that the difficult Haywen was very likely here now. Just protecting cultural relics, the security reaction couldn't be so fast.

"Caught a big fish," Deathstroke said.

"Exactly," Shiler smiled, seemingly very satisfied.

The next journey was unimaginably smooth; they almost didn't encounter any security personnel, or avoided them in advance before the other party discovered them. This is actually very difficult.

The entire underground second floor is very large, not only with storage rooms but also many other office areas. The other party's manpower is also sufficient. The pursuit personnel and patrol personnel are separate, and diverting the tiger from the mountain is also very difficult to succeed. Deathstroke felt that if he were to do it, he couldn't avoid killing a few people. But Shiler avoided them all.

Now, Deathstroke is increasingly believing that Shiler can indeed see something. But he is still trying hard to think about Shiler's previous nonsense. And this kind of thinking obviously couldn't have any results, because that couldn't even be called nonsense, but more like sleep talk. What does it mean that the mural was made by him???

With a "bang," the door was pushed open. Shiler directly ignored the dozens of guns placed beside the long table, and under the ugly expressions of the two men standing at the end of the room, walked into the room brazenly.

"Shiler!" one of the short and fat men widened his eyes and said, "Aren't you already out of Cairo?!"

Another tall and thin Arab man wrapped in a headscarf wasn't so surprised, but his face also looked very ugly.

"Haywen, it seems you are surprised that I didn't die," Shiler looked at the Arab man and said, "Sorry to disappoint you. How is the 'Serpent of Phrine'?"

"You damn bastard!!!" the short and fat man opened his mouth first and said, "You broke the temperature control device, causing most of my goods to be damaged. How dare you mention it?!"

"You wanted to cast me aside and swallow it alone. If I don't give you a lesson, how will you understand to treat people with sincerity?" Shiler sneered and said, "Now? Besides that snake, what other decent things do you have?"

Both of them stood in place with cold faces and didn't speak. And this amount of information was truly too large, Deathstroke had to digest it.

So, this Shiler had long been involved. The mural cultural relic coming here was related to him. But I don't know what happened in the middle, maybe he fell out with that arms dealer. He left the team, and even left Cairo.

And the museum curator, I don't know what grudge he had with him, actually found someone to kill him. Maybe it was precisely because he was hunted down that he left Cairo. But unfortunately, one left, and another came. Because the two of them looked exactly the same, they performed a big change of living people in front of this bunch of people.

It has to be said that this is quite deterrent. Deathstroke felt that if someone performed such a show in front of him, he would probably also feel that the other party was omniscient and had the ability to steal the sky and change the sun.

"Fine. Since you don't respect me so much and want to swallow those things alone, then I wish you good luck," Shiler said, "Pharaoh will bless you."

Shiler turned around and wanted to walk out. Haywen shot with lightning speed. The next second, with a "clang," the bullet was blocked by the greatsword. Deathstroke narrowed his eyes.

Don't misunderstand, he didn't want to save Shiler. But as an extremely experienced mercenary, he could fully see that this museum curator hadn't received professional training, and his shooting was a mess.

He didn't have the accuracy of others, and he played blind shooting. Don't look at the distance of less than ten meters, to reach the point of not aiming at all and shooting as soon as he raised his hand, he still needed a certain amount of training. And he didn't care at all, grabbed a pistol, and pulled the trigger toward that direction.

Because the distance was very close, it could indeed hit, but it couldn't hit the vital parts, and wanting to kill Shiler with one shot was absolutely impossible. And the consequence of not killing Shiler with one shot was very serious.

Rather than saving Shiler, it was better to say it was saving himself. Deathstroke really didn't want to be hit by a train again.

Having already figured out the rule that the worse Shiler's condition was, the better his condition was, Deathstroke had to try his best to help him avoid all injuries that would make him injured but not fatal. It looked like team friendship, but in reality, he had no choice.

After the bullet was blocked, Haywen seemed to notice that there was such a person as Deathstroke. He might have thought this was a bodyguard hired by Shiler, but after looking over, he found that this guy's momentum didn't look like what a bodyguard should have.

And the other short and fat guy directly grabbed Haywen and hid under the table. The bodyguards surrounded them. Deathstroke raised his sword to hack, but after thinking about it, he gave up, directly rushed out of the crowd, and went to chase Shiler.

This wasn't because he was soft-hearted. The equipment wear and tear of this mission had reached a somewhat unbearable level, and originally the final payment couldn't be collected. If he continued to wear it down like this, he would lose a lot. So try not to kill if he can.

"You don't want the mural anymore?" Deathstroke asked.

"The mural isn't here anymore," Shiler said, "If Hesinag and Haywen had colluded early on, Haywen would definitely have prepared a vault exclusively for the mural, and wouldn't have put it underground."

"You're back?" Deathstroke realized.

Shiler nodded and said: "The scene over there is also quite lively. Maybe he will be hunted down from Egypt to Norway."

"So what on earth is going on?" Deathstroke was really a bit confused.

"Let's go first, I'll tell you slowly after we go up."

The two left the museum basement. This time they could finally return to the hotel to rest. They returned to the hotel room, checked the equipment again, and ate something to replenish their strength. Shiler said while eating.

"Not long ago, a private collector—to be precise, a second-hand dealer serving the rich—obtained a batch of cultural relics that didn't come from a legitimate source. The other party had no other requirements, only hoping that these things could be moved out of the United States as soon as possible. This situation isn't rare, right?"

Deathstroke nodded. He also often encountered this kind of thing. That bunch of people, when they made their fortune, felt they were invincible, wanted to fish everything they could, and wished they could stuff all the treasures of the whole country into their own pockets.

However, if they overdid it, there would always be retribution. Once someone has the ability to pursue it, they have to spit it out whether they want to or not. At this time, selling is too late, and there might be evidence of capital flow, so they can only find a way to send it out to destroy the evidence. Deathstroke has also taken this kind of job and understands what's going on.

"He found a French arms dealer. The other party is also a second-hand dealer. The two hit it off. One earns the money of the rich who sell stolen goods, and the other earns the money of taking away this batch of cultural relics. Of course, because the value of the cultural relics is too high, so after disposing of them, he still has to share some money with this American second-hand dealer."

"But there is a problem," Deathstroke proposed, "The biggest problem with this kind of cultural relic is that there is no official endorsement, it's easy not to be recognized, and it can't be sold for a high price... oh, I understand, so they sent these things to Egypt. As long as they transform, they become national treasures in the Egyptian Museum, and they can be worth much more."

"Exactly. However, obviously, that French arms dealer didn't want to share money with the American second-hand dealer. So, he conspired with the museum curator Haywen to swallow the most valuable one."

"How to swallow this?" Deathstroke didn't understand.

"There are many wars in the Red Sea. As long as you say the ship was hijacked or destroyed, naturally you can swallow it. It's just that they didn't expect this guy to find his way here from the United States, and even destroyed the temperature control device of the storage room, causing most of the goods in that batch of cultural relics to be damaged."

"Wasn't that destroyed by you?"

"I'll say it again, we are one person."

Deathstroke felt his head buzzing again.