Chapter 4591

Deathstroke opened his mouth, then closed it. How could he not know? Joseph always seemed to feel that being with Schiller was dangerous; he seemed to lack a correct understanding of his own father's strength.

Schiller was indeed dangerous, but Deathstroke understood that madmen were usually not too interested in someone who worked for money. As long as he held firm to that point, he would not be in mortal danger. And for a cyborg like him, as long as it wasn't mortal danger, it wasn't danger at all.

On the contrary, getting close to Schiller had many benefits. For instance, he could get contracts from the Justice League and spend Batman's money without restraint. Judging by his ability to create job opportunities, there would surely be more commissions in the future.

Deathstroke's decision to maintain a relatively close relationship with Schiller was the result of careful deliberation, not just something that happened by chance. To put it bluntly, they were all living on the edge of a blade; what difference did it make which blade he was closer to? Joseph clearly hadn't realized this and had too many unnecessary worries.

However, now it was his own turn. Even though he knew in his heart that Joseph had grown up and was no longer the little boy who would hug his leg and cry, and that he had superpowers—range telepathy and precise mental control—and that there was actually nothing to worry about, he just couldn't help himself.

He didn't want to appear too weak or lose control, so he could only pretend to be rational and say, "Joseph isn't suited for this line of work. It's not enough just to have superpowers. He's too soft-hearted."

"Yes, he has no innate defects," Schiller said. "He is an ordinary person with normal emotions. Even if you agreed, he wouldn't go and be a hitman. He simply cannot accept the act of killing for money."

"Then why did you..."

"He's just here to help you clean up your mess," Schiller said, "and if you intend to change your style and become an infiltration-type assassin, there will be plenty of such things in the future."

Deathstroke was speechless. Letting his son clean up his messes was just too embarrassing. Joseph was probably complaining about him in his heart right now.

However, it couldn't be seen from the outside. He was chatting happily with the Halls. From the shape of their mouths during their conversation, it could be seen that Joseph was pretending to be someone sent by the Justice League, and the image he projected indeed fit the temperament of the Justice League—a bit like the Flash, the kind of sunny, cheerful big boy. The Halls didn't have the slightest suspicion and were already discussing when to set off.

Deathstroke didn't know if it was his imagination, but he felt Joseph glance in his direction. That look was a bit disgusted and a bit helpless. Deathstroke found it hard to describe his current mood.

Although it was a non-lethal errand and the task was very simple, it had occupied Joseph's precious graduation vacation. According to Joseph's personality, his entire vacation schedule should have been filled long ago. Besides the graduation trip, he probably wanted to get himself a set of computer equipment, play the latest games, fix the old piano he bought when he was a child, and even wanted to get a driver's license and hunt for an old car to drive.

A trip to Midway City was definitely not on his plan list. Coming over to pick up the Halls and sending them to the East Coast would take at least a few days. Deathstroke was truly surprised that he was willing.

After all, boys of this age, let alone helping their parents with work, were considered quite obedient and sensible if they were willing to spare a hand to open a door for their parents while playing video games. Deathstroke hadn't held any high expectations for him at all, which led to him being truly moved right now.

Moved as he was, the investigation still had to continue. Last night, Deathstroke had imitated the tone of the two of them talking again, recorded it, and sent it to his middleman.

This middleman didn't seem to want to ruin his own reputation either; he didn't know how many connections he had mobilized, but he had actually deciphered some of it. However, as for what language this actually was, there was still no clue; it could only be confirmed that it should be a language on Earth, possibly a very niche branch of Arabic.

Judging from the deciphered results, besides mentioning a priest, there was also a word that appeared repeatedly like a person's name, and that was "Set." It was inferred that the name of this so-called priest was Set.

Although he couldn't understand the content, fortunately, when humans speak, there are commonalities in tone and intonation, and Deathstroke had imitated it vividly. Therefore, the deciphering personnel concluded that this priest Set had a grudge against the speaker, because whenever this name was mentioned, the tone was one of gnashing teeth.

Moreover, they had also investigated this so-called Set, but found nothing. There were simply too many people with this name, and they hadn't heard of any very important famous people.

The clues ended here again. Deathstroke could only find another way. Now Joseph was downstairs chatting with them, and the two of them shouldn't turn into golden-armored warriors. Deathstroke simply climbed over the wall into the courtyard and arrived near the bedroom where the two of them lived.

There were no clues in the bedroom, but there was a study next to it. Deathstroke carefully went in to take a look; most things were normal. However, he still found a rather peculiar manuscript among the recent ones—it was a document written in an unknown script he had never seen before.

Deathstroke took a photo and then left in a hurry. After he sent this photo over, the middleman finally had a clue. Not long after, he sent back a rough translation and told Deathstroke that this was Egyptian.

Not the Arabic used in Egypt today, but true ancient Egyptian, and it belonged to "hieroglyphs." It was usually the written script used by ancient Egyptian clergy to write things. Moreover, from some details, it could be judged that this belonged to Late Egyptian, which was a language used for daily communication that appeared during the period of Tutankhamun in the 18th Dynasty of ancient Egypt.

This made Deathstroke scratch his head. Although he knew they were ancient Egyptian research experts, wasn't this a bit too professional? Using ancient Egyptian language for conversation in daily life?

Subsequently, the information the middleman told him made Deathstroke even more bewildered. The middleman said that the intonation of this language had been completely lost. Because the Arabs conquered Egypt too early and the history was very long, Arabic culture had completely covered ancient Egyptian culture, and the intonation could not possibly have been preserved. Therefore, it could not be inferred from this that those two audio clips were ancient Egyptian.

But Deathstroke just felt that it definitely was ancient Egyptian. These two people were very wrong. Could it be that they were really possessed by the spirits of pharaohs?

Just as he thought of this, Joseph had already walked out of the art gallery. When Deathstroke looked toward him, Joseph was also turning his head to look at him. Then the two of them met on the street nearby.

"You..." Deathstroke had just opened his mouth when Joseph looked left and right, then said, "It's not convenient to talk here, let's find a safer place."

Then they went to the side of the Central Lake and found a place where no one was around. Joseph said, "Hall's real name is Khufu. He is the twenty-ninth son of Ramesses II, the pharaoh of the 19th Dynasty of ancient Egypt. However, he hasn't lived until today, but is constantly reincarnated. His wife is his former partner Chay-Ara. Both of them are reincarnated to this day."

"During the ancient Egyptian period, they obtained a mysterious metal from an alien spaceship. They forged the metal into three treasures: a sharp sword, a scarab amulet, and the Claw of Horus. An evil priest under their command, Hath-Set, stole the sword and used it to kill them. This caused the souls of all three of them to be constantly reincarnated, and Set is their enemy in every lifetime."

"In this lifetime, they became ancient Egyptian archaeologists and retrieved the amulet and the glove. Because they were worried about being found by Set, they came to the United States and established this art gallery, living here incognito all along. But Set seems to have found them after all; they feel very afraid and are preparing to seek the protection of the Justice League."

"The scarab amulet and the Claw of Horus are both on them. Using these two treasures, they can transform into 'Hawkman' and 'Hawkgirl,' can fly, have self-healing abilities, and will not truly die. However, they are lacking in strength and combat skills and are not as strong as you."

As Joseph's voice fell, Deathstroke only felt his head buzzing. Was this telepathy a bit too useful? Just by saying these few sentences, he had checked out the entire past and present household registration of others?

Seeing Deathstroke acting a bit incredulous, Joseph was too lazy to say more. He said, "I'm not the kind of person who only knows how to use superpowers to brute-force things. In fact, unless I encounter very tricky trouble, I won't use my superpowers. If it weren't to help you, I wouldn't need to do this either. Believe it or not, it's up to you."

"Hey, wait!" Deathstroke hurriedly called out to Joseph, "I didn't say I didn't believe you, I just think this matter is too ridiculous."

Then his train of thought turned to a strange place again. If the Halls were really ancient Egyptians, then wouldn't the artifacts they made be real artifacts? So that mural wasn't faked; it was a real ancient Egyptian artifact!

This really gave Deathstroke a great shock. Originally, he had barely accepted the fact that the entire mural was fake, but now you tell me that the mural is actually real—even if it might have been made less than a month ago, used completely modern materials, was purely new, indisputably new, but it was a real artifact.

Because it was a work designed and manufactured by ancient Egyptians that reflected ancient Egyptian history, culture, and aesthetic taste, even if the carrier was modern material, this was still a genuine artifact!

And Schiller's plan to mass-produce fake artifacts to confuse the public was actually not producing fake artifacts at all, but mass-producing real ancient Egyptian artifacts.

This is like a book whose author has been dead for thousands of years suddenly updating today and continuing to serialize steadily in the future. This is truly seeing a ghost.

No wonder. That mural could fool Wonder Woman and could fool the curator of the Egyptian Museum. It changed hands several times in the hands of these people, and yet not a single person saw any flaws. Because its creator, Hall, was the biological son of Ramesses the Great, a prince who came out of the ancient Egyptian court, and was among the artists who were quite cultured and aesthetic in ancient Egypt. It would be strange if there were flaws.

Schiller, oh Schiller. Deathstroke thought in his heart. You really have your ways. To create job positions for yourself, you even dug up ancient Egyptians... Wait. Deathstroke suddenly remembered one thing—the beginning of all these events was Batman's unexplained disappearance. Could this also be Schiller's doing?!