Deathstroke took about a second to accept the current situation. Then he directly shot out a grappling hook that firmly lodged onto the wall behind Shiller, and Shiller jumped onto the hook, taking three steps as two, and arrived at the door.
"What the hell?" Deathstroke said, "After you disappeared, that array just wouldn't start. I had to go back to the first pyramid and hack it open, then I fell into a strange room and struggled hard to get out."
"Was it the room with the disks?"
"Exactly." Deathstroke complained, "All text and patterns, it took me ages to crack it open. What's happened to you?"
"Nothing." Shiller shook his head and said.
"Who do you think set up this place?" Deathstroke and Shiller advanced through the tomb passage together. He muttered, "The real pyramid isn't like this, right?"
"Of course not. The one who designed such puzzles could only be a person of Ancient Egypt."
"What do you mean?"
"If it were modern people, we'd be facing pure English puzzles, a man-eating army of Scarabs, traps with fire-breathing, hammers and axes flying around, and the revived pharaoh mummy waiting for us at the end boss."
"Uh..."
Deathstroke thought about it, if he were to design these puzzles, it would probably be using those elements. Blame it on Hollywood for making films like this. They don't care what Ancient Egyptian culture is really like, as long as the plot is thrilling and bizarre.
But in fact, the puzzle-solving along the way wasn't stimulating, more so repetitive work. Also, Ancient Egyptian texts and murals, ordinary Scarabs passing by, jumping games without any trap elements — this obviously hasn't been spoiled by modern games. If there were modern video games, there's no way the tomb room wouldn't have a Triple Strike Dog formation: a pounce, a bite, a slam, sending you back home.
"Could it really be revived pharaoh spirits?" Deathstroke pondered around, "But why are they causing us trouble? Could it be because we brought down a meteor and woke them from their sleep?"
"Firstly, the meteor may not have been brought by us. Secondly, a pharaoh wouldn't transform their tomb into an amusement park. Lastly, we have more work to do."
They looked at the tomb room ahead, which was simply a combination of the previous levels. Above the dome a full moon hung, casting a shadow on the ground. Disks spun continuously, and steps fluctuated up and down. Clearly, they needed to engage in some dynamic puzzle-solving.
"My god." Deathstroke patted his forehead and said, "I don't think the two of us crabs can handle this."
"No problem, let's solve it." Shiller said.
Deathstroke looked at him with some suspicion. Why is he in such a good mood? From what he knows, the agent really hates wasting time, especially doing pointless repetitive work. Why is he so amenable this time? Could he genuinely be interested in Egyptian culture?
But since Shiller had expressed his stance, Deathstroke couldn't refuse anymore, he owed him a favor. Puzzle-solving is good, at least the gear won't wear out.
Actually, the two of them cooperated quite well. Because they belong to the type who think fast and react even faster. Just with a little bit of coordination, they worked very well together. They solved the puzzle after only two or three tries.
When the puzzle was solved, all the steps fell to the ground, and the disks stopped spinning, the room became quiet. The round moon then began to shine.
The moon grew brighter and brighter, until its soft white light filled the entire room. In the white light, a figure slowly descended, hovering above the dome.
And Deathstroke watched wide-eyed as Shiller took out a revolver, loaded all six bullets, and raised the gun.
Bang!!!!!!!!!!!!
Even though Deathstroke had already put on his mask and covered his ears before he fired, the loud bang still exceeded his expectations. He could clearly feel his ears bleeding.
Now he understood why Shiller wasn't angry, the agent had figured out how to combine six shots into one — you could set countless puzzles, but I only need to fire one shot.
The figure slowly forming atop the dome was dispersed once again. The moon instantly extinguished. Deathstroke only heard a crisp sound of a heap of parts falling to the ground.
Due to his familiarity with killing, Deathstroke could hear that what fell to the ground seemed not to be flesh and blood, nor souls, but rather a pile of bones.
This made it a bit creepy. Could it really be a pharaoh resurrected?
And at this moment, Shiller walked into the darkness, bent down, and picked up something. When he walked out, he startled Deathstroke, because what he was holding was a skull head of a bird of prey.
"Khonsu." Shiller called out his name, "Now you have three seconds to tell me why you appear here..."
The bird's beak of the large skull head moved a bit, making clicking sounds. And Shiller pulled the barrel of the revolver out of the bird's beak, a deep voice resonated in the room.
"Mortal, why intrude upon the domain of the Moon God..."
With a "click," the barrel was shoved back in, Shiller said, "Skip the lines. Or you can say goodbye to your beak."
"Ahem... get that thing away..." Khonsu growled softly, "Who gave you that cannon?!"
Deathstroke snickered at the side, "The Justice League. Justifiable enough, right?"
"Ahem ahem ahem... let go of me first..."
Shiller loosened his grip, and countless bones converged together. Moonlight transformed into a silver silk, draping a robe over the tall figure. A staff condensed in a gust of wind. He tapped the ground lightly, and the moonlight brightened again.
The bird's beak opened wide and then closed again. It seemed to be recalling lines but had forgotten them in nervousness.
"Go to the Moon," Khonsu said, "the far side of the Moon."
"Let's go." Shiller turned to leave with his gun. Khonsu quickly extended his staff to block him and said, "Aren't you going to ask why?"
As soon as he finished speaking, the cannon barrel almost ended up in his mouth again. Khonsu hastily raised both hands to signal surrender. Shiller put away the gun and said, "Given that you skipped all your lines, I won't bother with the puzzle-solving process. Otherwise..."
"I have nothing more to say," Khonsu quickly added, "Let's go. Your car is right at the door, and it's fully fueled."
Shiller walked out with Deathstroke. There was no complicated structure on the way out, just a straight path. As the door opened, the car was indeed at the entrance, and the tank was full.
"Who was that guy?" Deathstroke asked as he got into the car.
"Khonsu. Simply put, the Moon God from African mythology."
"Why is he here?"
"How should I know?"
"You seemed pretty familiar with him," Deathstroke noted.
"Where did you get that idea?" This time, Shiller was driving. With a press of the accelerator, the bright moonlight began to dim. They reappeared on the road, with giant pyramids looming intermittently in the sky, as if they were still on their way to the Giza Plateau and everything that happened was just a dream.
As they approached the Giza Plateau, the police had indeed surrounded the area. A meteor had fallen between the two pyramids; fortunately, it wasn't big and hadn't caused much damage, contrary to the commotion it created. The police were also driving away onlookers.
Deathstroke took out a telescope and took a glance. The meteor's shape was peculiar, like a small Moon. He immediately associated it with what Shiller had said about the Moon God. "So, were we just inside that thing?"
"Maybe we were just affected by the meteor's radiation," Shiller said, "Luckily, we acquired new clues, so it wasn't a waste."
"What kind of new clues are these?" Deathstroke asked. "He told you to find him on the Moon. How are you going to get there? Contact NASA?"
Shiller looked at him as if he were an idiot and said, "What, Wonder Woman needs a rocket to go to the Moon?"
Deathstroke was taken aback. He asked, "Are you seriously going to report the mission like this? Without any proof? Will the Justice League listen to your nonsense?"
Shiller sighed deeply and said, "I really don't know how you became the world's number one mercenary. If I were in this line of work, your position wouldn't be so secure."
Deathstroke snorted with discontent, staring at Shiller intently, as if waiting for his insight. But Shiller said nothing, just drove back to the Egyptian Museum.
They returned to the Tutankhamun exhibit. The mural stood quietly as before. Shiller stepped forward, took out a small knife, and inserted it into the mural, successfully prying off a piece of rock.
"Hiss..." Deathstroke sucked in a breath, "What are you doing? This is..."
He was about to say, "This is an artifact." But he suddenly realized that it wasn't an artifact; it was a counterfeit created by Shiller. The history might not even be six months—it's purely new, undeniably new.
And as the creator of the artifact, no one was more qualified to edit it than Shiller. Deathstroke watched wide-eyed as Shiller used the knife to carve a moon pattern in the snake's eye area and drew patterns resembling moonlight.
Then he used the knife to cut open the round moon, gouging out half of it, creating a recess. This made that part look darker than the rest, like the far side of the Moon.
Shiller next drew some floating small figures near the Moon, which unlike humans, had heads too large and bodies too small, resembling some kind of aliens praying to the Moon.
"Alright." Shiller dusted off his hands and took a step back to admire his work, then said, "Now we have evidence, don't we?"
Deathstroke was speechless. He realized that compared to diligent mercenaries like himself, Shiller was more like someone who creates chaos to make employers seek him out to resolve the mess, and since the chaos was self-created, he only needed to sit in the office, photocopy all the documents, and then hand in the report directly as a hitman of sorts.
What's more frightening is that Shiller wasn't alone but a part of a group. They could have one person create problems, another resolve them; one threaten the employer, another protect the employer; one fabricate evidence, another destroy evidence. They consumed both upstream and downstream, endlessly producing achievements by biting their own tail.
Deathstroke had to admit, if Shiller truly intended to operate this way, his status as the number one mercenary might indeed be at risk.