Chapter 4578: Day of White (44)

The bearded man and his group reacted faster, instantly throwing away what they had in their hands and raising their guns. But this made Haivin let out a more tragic scream, because the mask fell to the ground and chipped a corner directly. He wanted to pounce on it, but shrank back because of the pitch-black muzzle.

"You bunch of bastards, what exactly do you want?!!" Haivin shouted in despair, "Take it all, take it all. Just don't touch my things!!!"

"You know what I want," Schiller looked at him and said, "I originally just wanted to take back what belonged to me, it was you who made all this too complicated."

Haivin closed his eyes in pain and said in Arabic: "It was that damn French liar who came to me and said he found a good fat fish to slaughter. As long as the mural is hidden, it belongs to us. That thing is indeed too good, I just wanted to get my share..."

"What did he say?" Schiller looked at the bearded man and asked.

"You are looking for a mural," the bearded man also looked at him and asked, "What kind of mural? Is it very valuable?"

"Perhaps it is very valuable, but my employer is the Justice League," Schiller said, "You wouldn't want the situation here to be more complicated, right?"

The bearded man frowned deeply. He looked at Haivin and also said in Arabic: "What do you want to do? Let those damn meddling Americans ride on our heads completely? Give it back to him!"

Although Schiller couldn't understand Arabic, he could judge from the tone that the bearded man was helping him persuade Haivin. This is of course. Haivin is just a greedy cultural relic collector, he doesn't care about regional situations. But the bearded man and they are different, they can do whatever they want here because there is no stronger force to suppress them. But if those people from the Justice League come here, it will be different.

Decapitation operations indeed cannot decapitate superpowered people, but Superman's fist of justice will not let go of every terrorist—judging by the moral standards of the Justice League, there are not many people around the Red Sea who are not terrorists.

In fact, it's not that Superman won't manage things in other countries, it's just that he has been too busy recently. He can't even manage things in the universe, so it's inevitable that there will be negligence on Earth. He hasn't appeared for a long time, which caused the tense situation in some areas to break out.

"It's too late," Haivin looked at Schiller and said, "Does the Justice League have no enemies?"

"What do you mean?"

"When I went, the mural had already been taken away," Haivin said in a breakdown, "It must be that damn French liar who installed a positioning device inside, I knew he wouldn't be so easy..."

Schiller stepped forward and knocked on his back with a gun butt. He certainly wasn't just venting, but said coldly: "You'd better think it over before you speak. I think you understand the means of these friends."

Haivin trembled, how could he not understand. This gang is cruel to enemies. If he falls into their hands, he will be completely finished.

He had long realized this, but he still had to come, because he couldn't let them take away the things here—they didn't all belong to him. Some were pre-ordered by employers, and some were deposited here by them, waiting for his appraisal report. If they were all gone, his end wouldn't be any better.

"I'm telling the truth," Haivin gritted his teeth and said, "The fact proves that Hsinag has his own power, don't you already know? It wasn't me who took him away!"

"You can't see everything here? Who took him away?"

"I couldn't see it for the first time, and the surveillance was deleted!"

Schiller narrowed his eyes, seemingly weighing the truth of these words. But after a while, he chose to believe Haivin. There is no doubt that it is unlikely that Haivin took Hsinag away, which has no benefit to him. If it wasn't him, then there is still something tricky about the matter.

Schiller let go of him and said: "Do you think Hsinag took the mural?"

"Only it could be him!" Haivin screamed, "He has touched that mural, he has a way to put a positioning device in it. He must have accomplices, they broke in and snatched the mural before I even went to the safe house!"

"Where is your safe house?"

Haivin said dejectedly: "I can take you there, it will be abandoned anyway. But you can't touch the things here..."

"My friend won't make a wasted trip."

"I can give you some. I mean, several that are equally valuable and have official appraisal documents. But those things you can't touch, they already have owners. You don't want to be troubled, do you?"

Schiller looked at the bearded man, and the bearded man also weighed it. Actually, it is difficult for them to get rid of these cultural relics, they don't know people in this regard. And things without endorsement don't sell for a high price, it's better to get a few good goods with official documents, maybe they can be auctioned for a high price.

"Okay," the bearded man said, "But you'd better not try to fool us, otherwise we will poke out everything you have done."

Haivin sighed. He didn't want to compromise either, but there was no other way now. He pointed out a few cultural relics to them and took out the appraisal certificates.

The bearded man and they left soon. But before leaving, the bearded man told Schiller that there was no abnormality on Deathstroke's side, his people had been following him, and didn't see anyone contacting him.

Schiller took Haivin to his safe house. That place was so remote that it was almost to West Africa. It can be said that fortunately they didn't follow his footsteps to find the safe house, otherwise they might not be able to find it even if they turned the whole desert over.

The mural did exist here, Schiller saw the traces of the thing being moved. He turned to look at Haivin and asked: "How did he open the door?"

"To be honest, I don't know," Haivin said, "I don't know where he got the password, nor how he bypassed the security system, nor how he deleted the surveillance. He was like possessed by a devil."

Haivin knew that his statement was not reliable, so he paused and said: "However, this mural is not those little things, it can't be taken away by putting it in a pocket. He needs a suitable car."

Schiller immediately thought that there was a section of sand road outside this safe house, which was the kind of road that hadn't been built, purely because there were more people walking and it became a road. But this is the desert, not every car can walk on this kind of sand road, and there are strict requirements for car type and power. If there is a mural weighing half a ton on it, there are even fewer car types to choose from.

"This kind of car can't be stolen," Haivin said, "I asked someone to check the purchase and rental records, and finally found that a box truck of a moving company was rented and returned at a suspicious time. But I can't..."

"Are you afraid?"

"If it weren't for the fact that I hate him more than you now, I would never tell you this—this is all abnormal." Haivin said very seriously, "I have never told the password of the safe house to any other person. Any. That is a secret that only I know, but it was opened just like that. There is a devil at work."

"I know," Schiller sighed lightly and said, "Tell me where that car went, and then everything will have nothing to do with you."

Haivin didn't look relieved at all. He just told Schiller the address, and then left in a hurry, looking like he wanted to leave this right and wrong place.

Schiller went to meet Deathstroke first. Deathstroke looked as usual, obviously this job was not difficult for him. Deathstroke asked with some concern: "How is it? Did you find the mural?"

"Not yet," Schiller shook his head, repeated what happened before, and then said, "It's still the same. We can't chase along the clues, but must let the murderer stand out on his own."

"What do you plan to do?" Deathstroke expressed some curiosity, as if he just wanted to know how long this farce could last, and what the answer to the riddle was.

"We have to go to the red-light district," Schiller said.

Deathstroke didn't ask why, they drove to the red-light district. The burned-down house still stood there, obviously there was no need for repair. But Schiller still found the old procuress near the house.

"There have been some suspicious people recently, right? They are hiding. You know who they are."

The old procuress sighed and said: "I don't want to cause trouble."

"Then tell me what you know. After all, it's unlikely you'll run into bigger trouble than me."

Schiller took out quite a lot of banknotes from Deathstroke and handed them to the procuress. The procuress counted the money while saying: "It's that gang of lunatics who controlled the airport. They were defeated for some reason. I thought they could hold on for a while longer, making my business better here."

Schiller knew that the plane could not take off, leaving many passengers stranded here. Accommodation in the red-light district is relatively cheap, and there are various places to find fun, many passengers would choose to stay here, which made people here earn a lot of money.

"They are hiding in the hotel at the end of the street, seemingly discussing something," the procuress put away the money and said, "You'd better bring more people and guns when you go, they are not vegetarians."

Schiller found it in the direction he pointed. Deathstroke said: "You just cooperated with another gang, and now you are looking for their rivals?"

"What grievances they have has nothing to do with me," Schiller said, "I just need them."

"I'm afraid it's not completely irrelevant," Deathstroke muttered.

Schiller didn't listen to the old procuress's warning at all, and knocked on the hotel door, sure enough seeing a very vigilant face and a pitch-black muzzle.

Of course, he didn't let Deathstroke come over. After all, in the news, it was Deathstroke who killed the leader of this gang. If he came over, it would be a fire fight directly.

"I am an American, I have something to talk to you about," Schiller said, "Just like you hope, I can help you."

The other party seemed a little unbelieving. Schiller made an appearance of not being in a hurry, he said: "If I leave now, how long can you hold on here? Airport take-offs and landings have resumed. Once the tourists are gone, you will soon be searched."

The other party hesitated, but still stepped aside to let him in. Schiller didn't care about the guns pointing at him at all, and said bluntly: "You have already failed, but there is still a chance to make a comeback."

"What?" This group of people's English was even worse, fortunately Schiller's hearing was not very good, so he guessed purely.

"The American Justice League is looking for a mural with magical power, and the mural is now in Cairo. If you can find it, perhaps you can get the help of the Justice League."

"What??!" The room was in an uproar. They repeatedly confirmed the information they heard, and Arabic chatter didn't stop.

"This is your only hope. After all, in this situation, you have almost no wings to fly. Except for Superman, I'm afraid no one can help you leave Cairo."

"You are lying, Superman won't help us," some of them said, "He will only eliminate us."

"That's when you have no chips in your hands. I said, the mural has magical power. This is very important to the Justice League. This is also your only chance."

The people in the room looked at each other. Schiller didn't stay long, and left after leaving the information about the moving company's truck.