amaotonovel Chapter 4602 The Day of Brightest Day (61)
Chapter 4602 The Day of Brightest Day (61)
Chapter 4602 The Day of Brightest Light (Sixty-One)
"Hey!" Schiller shouted in annoyance. What's the meaning of closing the coffin lid? We worked so hard to get to the end, and you're telling me the final boss isn't coming? There's no refund button in reality!
Schiller took two steps back and held out his hand to Deathstroke: "Sword."
Deathstroke was somewhat bewildered. After all those awful puzzles he had just solved, his brain wasn't working properly anymore, so he simply handed the greatsword to Schiller.
Schiller picked up the greatsword and jumped onto the coffin. He inserted the tip of the sword into the opening where the coffin had been, and pried it open with a sharp pull. After creating a crack, he threw the greatsword aside, grabbed the crack with his hand, and pulled the coffin lid outwards.
It's obviously impossible to pull it, but it's not like a mechanism that's completely stuck; rather, it's clear that someone inside is struggling with it. It can be pulled, but only a tiny bit.
"What are you trying to do?" A slightly helpless voice came from inside the coffin. "Why did you have to find me? What's Greed doing?"
"Why couldn't it be me who found you?" Schiller was also puzzled. "If it wasn't me, who else could it be?"
“Batman, of course,” the other person said in a low voice, “or Superman, or some other member of the Justice League. What are you for?”
"Isn't this a coincidence? The Justice League hired me, so come out here!" Schiller pulled hard again.
"No, there's a scene in the middle where I was sealed away for too long, causing me to lose my mind and go insane, and then I fought the Justice League for three hundred rounds. You're skipping the plot!" The person in the coffin just wouldn't let go, even in death.
“They can’t come! Can’t I fight you for three hundred rounds?” Schiller pulled hard as he tried to pull him out.
"Fine, my foot! Go call the Justice League!" The person in the coffin clung tightly to the coffin lid.
The two remained locked in a stalemate for about three minutes, until Schiller ran out of strength. With a bang, the coffin lid slammed shut again. He leaned against the coffin, catching his breath. When he looked at the memories earlier, he hadn't quite believed Anatoly was the first Lantern Knight, but now it seemed he was indeed quite capable. Putting everything else aside, his strength was truly remarkable.
"What's wrong?" Deathstroke asked. "Is it open?"
Panting, Schiller shook his head, gritted his teeth, looked around, and picked up the greatsword beside him. This time, instead of prying it open from the top of the coffin lid, he went directly to the back of the coffin, inserted the greatsword through the gap, pried open another opening, and began pulling from the opposite direction.
"Why are you so stubborn?" The person in the coffin was caught off guard and almost had the coffin lid ripped open, but luckily reacted quickly and grabbed the lid back. "I said no, and that means no. You'd better get out of here right now..."
"It has to work!" Schiller slammed his fist down again. "I've fought my way this far and you're telling me the mission failed? You're dreaming! Come out here!"
"No, who are you? How can you be like this..."
Schiller braced one hand against the coffin lid, and with the other reached into his clothes, pulled out his identification, and tossed it in through the gap. Three seconds later, a gasp erupted from inside the coffin: "FBI?!"
"Open the door!" Schiller knocked on the coffin lid. "Otherwise, I will charge you with resisting arrest and obstructing official business!"
"No way! Do you think I don't know the FBI? Even if I went out now, you would charge me with resisting arrest and obstructing official business!"
“Anatole!” Schiller emphasized, “What is it between us that we have to talk about through this broken coffin lid? Can’t you just come out first?”
"No, I'm not negotiating with the FBI. You either go find the Justice League, or call someone I know!"
Schiller sighed helplessly, released his grip, and the coffin lid slammed shut. Deathstroke stepped forward, picked up his sword, and said, "Should I just cleave it open?"
Schiller walked a little further away, and Deathstroke hesitated. He looked at Schiller and asked, "Which pharaoh is inside?"
"The Soviet generation."
"what?"
“I don’t think you can beat him,” Schiller said.
“But we’ve come this far,” Deathstroke gestured, “there should be a monster in here for us to fight, right?”
"That's how it should have been."
"And now?"
“The problem now is that he thinks we’ve skipped the storyline,” Schiller tried to explain to Deathstroke. “There are a whole bunch of messy levels outside, and that’s not all. The correct way to complete the game is to bring the Justice League here and fight him before we can move on to the next step.”
Why did he fight the Justice League?
"do not know."
"Because if they don't see how powerful you are, they won't take you seriously at all." The coffin opened a crack again, and a voice came from inside.
“How do you know?” Deathstroke turned to look at the coffin. “We’ve never fought the Justice League, and they offered us a pretty high price.”
"Heh, when Batman starts ordering you around while simultaneously devising tens of thousands of plans to guard against you, you won't think the same way anymore," the voice came from the coffin again.
Deathstroke couldn't argue, since Batman wasn't around. However, he thought about it and realized that if Batman returned, the job might not be so simple. Gaining his trust would be difficult enough; Batman would install a listening device in every dent of his greatsword.
"So you mean the Justice League was supposed to be here, but they thought it was too much trouble and outsourced the job to us. Then, after we stormed here, they refused to fight us and insisted on the Justice League instead?" Deathstroke summarized.
Schiller nodded. Deathstroke sighed and said, "Are we supposed to go back to the Justice League? Wouldn't that mean we'd wasted our time?"
“No need,” Schiller shook his head and said, “Wait for me.”
The bell stepped back slightly, for he could see that Schiller might be replaced. Soon, Schiller smiled at him, walked over, and gently tapped the coffin lid.
"Come out, or I'll go find Lucifer."
With a click, the coffin lid opened. A long sigh came from within. The light flickering inside the coffin wasn't the light of the Seven Lamps, but rather a radiance fused with some other power, its emanating light like a galaxy. A tall figure floated into the air.
Deathstroke looked up and saw those eyes gleaming with an eerie light. He drew his greatsword immediately, but then heard Schiller say, "Wait."
As the light faded, the outline of a man gradually emerged. Judging from his face, he was a typical Slavic man: high-arched eyebrows, deep-set eyes, and a strong, military-looking jawline—the kind of appearance that wouldn't look out of place in a Soviet recruitment advertisement. His blue eyes still emitted a faint glow, but this added a touch of eeriness to his solemn face.
“Long time no see, Anatoly,” Schiller said in Russian. “How have you been?”
“You can’t go to Lucifer,” Anatoly replied in Russian as well.
"It's been a long time since you've seen each other, hasn't it?"
“For me, yes,” Anatoly said, looking at Schiller. “But for someone like him, an immortal being, we’ve only been in a cold war for two and a half days. If I were to go to him now, it would mean I’ve lost. That’s absolutely impossible.”
“And,” Anatoly paused, “what the hell is the FBI? I remember telling you not to mess around in America, didn’t I?”
Schiller flashed a bright smile: "I'm sorry for triggering your CIA allergy, but joining a law enforcement organization can't exactly be considered fooling around, can it?"
If Anatoly disagreed, he didn't show it. He simply sighed and said, "Don't let him come with me. That guy is too stubborn, at least half as stubborn as you were when you were a kid."
“Then he’s clearly not persistent enough,” Schiller said with a smile, lowering his eyes. “He’s the kind of normal person you want most.”
"Come on, FBI? At least a normal person wouldn't spend half an hour arguing with me about coffin lids!"
“You didn’t let go either,” Schiller pointed out incisively. “That means you two are stubbornly united, and you’ll get along very well with him.”
"With a blue-skinned dog? Never."
"I didn't expect you to be so prejudiced against him."
“I am biased against American police,” Anatoly said, spreading his hands. “You rarely see such pure capitalist lackeys in human history; they are simply a bunch of legally armed thugs.”
"Ah, so that's what you're concerned about," Schiller said with a smile. "Do you know how to become an FBI ace agent?"
"Have you killed enough people?"
"I guess so, but they were all killing their own people."
Anatoly narrowed his eyes: "What have you been doing over there?"
Schiller remained silent. When he looked up again, he asked Anatoly with some surprise, "You've come out?"
Anatoly was about to say something when Schiller said, "Alright, now let's talk about the next step. The Justice League is probably asking you to help them find Batman in the multiverse. Whatever they say, just agree, and then we'll go find Batman."
“No,” Anatoly said, “I’m more concerned about you than Batman. How did you become a secret agent?”
“This isn’t a good place to insert flashback scenes,” Schiller said. “Let’s go back to the Justice League base first.”
Schiller surveyed his surroundings, his gaze finally settling on the coffin. He noticed the patterns on the ground resembled the ritual array Dr. Hall had created; barring any unforeseen circumstances, he figured they could leave via this teleportation array after defeating Anatoli.
But what if they didn't fight? Schiller thought for a moment and finally decided to take the simplest approach: "Konso!"
Kong Su did not respond. Schiller took a light breath and said, "If you show up within three seconds, I won't bother with this crap-worthy level design."
"This wasn't my design." Kong Su clearly felt wronged, making clicking sounds with his beak. "You and his little pet have certainly played with this a lot."
“Greed and the Gray Fog? I knew it was them,” Schiller said in a low voice. “Send me back.”
Kongsu clearly didn't want to be beaten to a pulp again. He tapped the ground lightly with his scepter, and the teleportation array lit up. But Schiller paused for a moment and then said, "Don't go straight back to the Justice League base. Send us to Egypt first."
Consug paused for a moment, but didn't ask why. He waved his staff again, the magic circle flashed, and he nodded slightly. Schiller stepped into the magic circle, and Deathstroke hesitated for a moment before following suit. Anatoly glanced at Schiller and then stepped onto it as well.
The magic circle suddenly shone brightly, a familiar pure white color and a sense of disorientation. When they came to their senses, they found themselves on the road leading to the Giza Highlands, just like last time.
It was still night, and the road was deserted, so they could only slowly make their way back to Cairo. Schiller walked quickly, seemingly unwilling to speak. Deathstroke glanced at Anatoly and asked in a low voice, "You know him? What's your relationship?"
“What does this have to do with you?” Schiller glanced at him and asked.
“I’m just curious,” Deathstroke said. “Anyone would be curious to see a Russian emerge from the coffin of an Egyptian pharaoh, wouldn’t they?”
“He’s not Russian,” Schiller said with a snort. “A former Soviet soldier, KGB.”
"hiss……"