PFC Chapter 4554 The Day of Brightest Day (3)
Chapter 4554 The Day of Brightest Day (3)
Chapter 4554 The Sun Shines Brightest (Thirteen)
Deathstroke, a super-cyborg warrior injected with a serum, is 193 cm tall, weighs 200 pounds, has over 90% of his brain's potential unlocked, and possesses normal strength approximately 10 times that of the human limit.
Compared to Deathstroke's strength, Schiller's weight was far too light. Therefore, lifting Schiller was effortless, but precisely because so little strength was required, Deathstroke felt a moment of disorientation, even a sense of unreality.
In the debate over whether "the world is crazy or I am crazy," Deathstroke leans more towards the latter. He prefers to believe that all the things that shock him have a more complex logic behind them, one that he simply cannot comprehend at the moment. But now, however, he begins to seriously consider whether God has gone mad, or if there is something wrong with the physical laws of this world—it is absolutely impossible for a person of this size and weight to possess such strength.
Reason told Deathstroke that Schiller might be a superhuman, or a cyborg like himself. But no, he felt Schiller was far removed from these things, even completely unrelated, which was why he seriously considered the issue of his physical abilities.
Deathstroke carried Schiller out of the busy dock area, found a car nearby, drove through the city center of Hegada, and arrived at a more peripheral area, heading towards the Egyptian interior until they reached his safe house in the Red Sea region near the southwest.
This was an abandoned US military base with a fairly spacious underground area. Deathstroke placed Schiller on one of the beds in the barracks and, just to be safe, locked the door. He soon discovered that this wasn't very secure, and could even be considered unnecessary—because a few minutes later, the door flew off.
Seeing the figure rushing out of the dormitory gate, Deathstroke was on high alert. He first drew his greatsword, but then reluctantly switched to dual swords. Upon closer inspection, he found that one of them was broken, so he had to throw it aside and use dual clubs instead.
"Oh God, I'll never use that damn gun again."
When Deathstroke heard Schiller say this, he breathed a sigh of relief; it seemed Schiller had regained his senses. But he soon realized he had been too hasty in his celebration—Schiller was lucid, but that was all.
Schiller turned and stared at the iron door that had flown away. He walked over, seemingly trying to pick it up. Deathstroke watched as the part of the door frame he had grabbed melted like butter, and then, just as he lifted the door, his hand trembled, and the door flew away again.
Schiller turned around, and Deathstroke took two steps back: "Don't come any closer!"
Sedatives and anti-inflammatory drugs failed to restore Schiller's completely damaged hearing. To make matters worse, Deathstroke was wearing a full-face mask, meaning Schiller couldn't even see his lip movements, so he still walked towards Deathstroke.
"Don't you fucking come any closer!!!"
Deathstroke really didn't want to act like a stage actor, exaggerating and chanting before performing action scenes. In reality, he wasn't a talkative person; people always called him the "Silent King of Assassins" because he was ruthless and taciturn, and his attacks were completely unexpected.
He even knew that Schiller might not be able to hear him, and that shouting louder wouldn't make a difference. But now he understood better why human ancestors, the tree-dwelling apes, roared—more like a primal release than a form of communication or warning.
When people are at their wits' end, they often become hysterical, and roaring and shouting are the last things they can do. This is quite effective in venting emotions, and surprisingly, it even managed to stop Schiller's pace.
Schiller didn't hear what Deathstroke was shouting, but he figured the other man was shouting, since he could tell from the direction of the neck muscles and Adam's apple that the man was speaking. Fortunately, Deathstroke's neck was covered with a fiber cloth, allowing Schiller to see how the sternocleidomastoid muscle supported the entire neck muscle group as it was exerting its full force.
Schiller held out both hands and said, "I didn't mean to attack you. Calm down, okay?"
"You have the nerve to say that?!" Deathstroke was genuinely amused. "Two hours ago, you almost threw me all the way to Israel with a throw, and you're telling me this?!"
“I warned you.” Schiller could roughly guess what Deathstroke was complaining about; although he had lost control a bit earlier, he still remembered. “This isn’t something I can control. I think we need to have an open and honest talk to facilitate our future cooperation.”
"Who would want to cooperate with you? If I wasn't afraid you'd run off and cause trouble, I would have thrown you out for the bounty long ago!"
Deathstroke found himself talking more. This wasn't because his personality had suddenly become more lively, but rather because people are always more excited when they are emotionally intense, and their language center is also excited, so they naturally talk more.
"You were fucking rampaging through African ports, anyone who didn't know better would think an orca had grown legs and come ashore. That damn sniper has never had such a good time shooting in his life, and now there's still a bullet lodged in my upper arm muscle, I..."
Before Deathstroke could finish speaking, he saw Schiller's somewhat bewildered look and realized that Schiller really couldn't hear him. He squeezed his eyes shut and then lifted his mask halfway up, revealing the lower half of his face.
Schiller paused, momentarily stunned by the young face. Although Deathstroke had shown his mouth while drinking soda earlier, it was only a small portion then, making it difficult to judge. But now he was certain that Deathstroke was indeed quite young.
However, this doesn't mean he's actually a young man, because in the comics' lore, Deathstroke was rejuvenated for a period of time. The specific process is a bit complicated, but basically, he encountered danger, fell unconscious, and was rescued by a mysterious figure who restored his body to a youthful state. However, this state didn't last long, and he later returned to his normal age.
When Schiller first encountered Deathstroke in his universe, he was also young, which is probably why he was an old man again when he encountered him again later, proving that the state of rejuvenation had ended.
But in reality, whether he is old or young doesn't make much difference to Deathstroke, because Deathstroke is an immortal being. In the comics, he can even live to be over 500 years old, so even if he looks old, his physical functions are not affected.
Schiller could now understand what Deathstroke was saying, but after realizing Deathstroke was just swearing, he couldn't be bothered to read any further. Being deaf did have some advantages; after all, ears can't be turned off voluntarily, but eyes can.
He sat down on the sofa next to him, completely destroying the armrest with a single gesture, and then, as he reached for the energy bar on the coffee table, he caused the coffee table to split in two. The energy bar he picked up shattered into pieces like instant oatmeal within two seconds, and the moment he tore open the packaging, it scattered like flower petals everywhere.
“I’ve realized a sad truth.” Schiller leaned back on the sofa, covered his forehead, and said, “It seems like I’ll have to use that old, broken gun from now on.”
Deathstroke felt like he'd been punched in the face. Looking at the living room, utterly destroyed in mere seconds, he felt utterly pathetic—why had he even brought this humanoid walking orca into his safe house?!
When he saw Schiller pull out the gun, Deathstroke didn't care about anything else. He rushed forward, snatched the gun away, and roared, "If you dare to fire it here, I'll throw you out to Israel!"
“I’m serious,” Schiller said. “No other gun can withstand my force right now. I’ll shove the trigger into the stock.”
Deathstroke, using his brain which was 90% developed, took a moment to comprehend the sentence, and then said, "You mean, you want to put a missile launcher on a runaway high-speed train, and beat them up with missiles while they're crashing into it? Are you a fan of desecrating corpses?"
“Why don’t you understand?” Schiller looked at him and said, “Uncontrolled power is not power. If I can’t control who I’m knocking into the Red Sea, then it can’t be considered an effective means of attack.”
"My God, you actually knew?" Deathstroke feigned utter surprise. "Didn't you think of this when you hit me?"
“Because I knew you wouldn’t get hit,” Schiller said very bluntly. “You demonstrated that to me with your prestigious reputation and strong resilience, and I took that as some kind of guarantee.”
"ensure?"
“I guarantee I’ll stop.” Schiller stood up again and said, “Now it seems that his reputation is well-deserved. There aren’t many people who can stop a runaway train with cold weapons. Mr. World’s Number One Mercenary.”
Deathstroke opened his mouth, but found himself speechless. He had to admit that his description of the trouble he had encountered and his actions in front of Schiller had a certain element of showing off, but it wasn't for boasting; it was for intimidation.
Deathstroke was extremely cunning and shrewd; he understood that intimidation was sometimes more effective than violence itself in defeating an opponent. He divided society into cities and jungles, and for those who were not often exposed to extreme violence—specifically, intelligence agents in most developed countries—overwhelmingly violent scenarios would be more likely to break them down.
As a master of weaponry, Deathstroke wasn't just someone who killed with melee weapons. In fact, melee weapons didn't offer any particular advantage; his greatsword was even better for defense than offense. What melee weapons could do, guns could do too—the saying goes, "A gun is fast from seven paces away, and accurate and fast within seven paces."
The reason Deathstroke prefers to use melee weapons is that the violent deterrent effect of melee weapons is far greater than that of guns. An enemy cleaved into pieces by a two-handed sword can often incapacitate more enemies, causing them to scream and flee in panic, but the effect is greatly reduced when using guns.
When dealing with the agents, Deathstroke will also try his best to display his violent traits, showcasing his immense strength, indestructible body, and almost inhuman physical abilities, making them understand what kind of monster he is, which can easily scare away those with weak mental fortitude.
Even seasoned, battle-hardened agents aren't always immune to such temptations. Imagine trying to capture a terrifying individual who can take a missile in the face and emerge unscathed from a mushroom cloud of explosion?
The so-called "need to seize the ship" was just a rather lame excuse. Deathstroke already knew there were bombs on the ship, and he jumped over there to show Schiller that he shouldn't have bothered with such a violent monster.
This tactic is usually very effective, scaring away countless people who come looking for trouble. But as the saying goes, if you walk the dark road too often, you'll eventually run into a ghost. If you play too many psychological tricks, you'll eventually run into Schiller.