Iron Bull taucht wieder auf

Kapitel 39

My hand was on the side doorknob, and I inadvertently discovered that there were two MP5 submachine guns tucked into a concealed gun holster under the doorknob. Similarly, on the side where Suren was sitting, there were two silver Desert Eagles and twelve American-made Mini Melon grenades in their gun holsters.

"Hehe, look behind you, there's a lightweight shoulder-fired rocket launcher hidden on the back of the seat. If explosives are needed, I can also provide two powerful TNT charges!"

Tina's voice was extremely arrogant. It seemed she had already turned her off-road vehicle into a mobile war machine; it was obvious without a closer look that all the windows were Class A bulletproof, capable of withstanding the honeycomb-like fire of an AK47 assault rifle.

I silently leaned back, avoiding her gaze in the rearview mirror. A strong woman like Tina was worthy of my admiration, but I didn't want to get close to her. I've never been interested in girls who were too strong or too capable.

The three of us had absolutely nothing in common to talk about, so the atmosphere in the car was unusually heavy.

Tina turned on the record player, and surprisingly, a classic Broadway musical played—no wonder she was a girl educated in Europe and America; her interests and tastes were quite different from those of Africans.

It was five o'clock in the afternoon, and the setting sun was already hanging in the western sky, casting a pale gold hue on the spire of the Turkic Pyramid.

Tina sighed, "Mr. Feng, if only these pyramids were all made of pure gold, wouldn't that be wonderful..."

Her greed far exceeded my imagination. Not content with obtaining that large gold ingot, she craved further gains. Of course, it would be wonderful if all the pyramids were turned into gold, but the wars fought over gold at that time would likely turn all of Egypt into terrifying ruins.

"What's so great about that, General Tina? If you learn the Chinese immortals' 'golden touch,' wouldn't everything be solved? Not to mention the pyramids, even Mount Everest or Mount Kilimanjaro in Africa can be turned into the purest gold. How about that?"

Suren teased in a strange tone—

"Haha, the Midas touch? That kind of incredibly boring legend isn't a Chinese invention. You know, almost every country in European fairy tales has a story about the Midas touch..." She suddenly turned her head and looked out the right window. In that direction, the most prominent building in her line of sight was the majestic Great Pyramid of Giza.

I can guess what Tina was thinking; it must be that Suren's words had triggered the legend of the Dead Sea in her mind.

Sure enough, Tina spoke again: "Mr. Feng, you must have heard the wonderful legend of the Dead Sea, right? A huge vault, with gold reserves the size of four Great Pyramids of Giza. If possible..."

Suren gave a cold "humph," indicating that she disagreed with Tina's fantasy.

The cold and oppressive atmosphere once again dominated the air inside the car. Fortunately, two minutes later, we had already arrived at the foot of the pyramids.

I have absolutely no recollection of what I did here on the night I lost my memory, and what Suren's camera captured proves nothing.

The pyramid's surface is remarkably clean; the weathered fragments of the pyramid could be blown away by strong northerly winds at any moment. Therefore, the Pyramid of Chuzan appears to us as if it were meticulously cleaned and maintained daily.

The place where I stand is a horizontal dividing line where the pyramid is buried in the sand. According to the elongation of a quadrilateral pyramid, as the base goes deeper into the ground, it descends layer by layer, and at the very bottom of the foundation, the length of the four sides will be an enormous number.

What I thought of was exactly what Suren and Tina thought of at the same time.

Tina kicked the sand hard, sending countless grains of sand flying and landing on the pyramid. She stretched out her arms to the vast sky and sighed deeply, "The depth of the vertical shaft, plus the 180-meter depth of the ancient well, at this slope, the overall scale of the Turkic Pyramid is probably not much smaller than the Great Pyramid of Giza. Faced with these mysterious treasures of the African continent, we Egyptians are truly so insignificant..."

Everyone with a conscience loves their country, and Tina is no exception.

Only those who love their country, their family, and others are worthy of respect.

I looked up at the top of the tower and whispered to Suren, "I'll go up and check. If there are no problems, you can go up." Instinctively, I wanted to protect her under my wing, to scout ahead no matter what dangers lay ahead.

With a long laugh, Tina bent her knees and arched her back, leaping upwards and landing on the outer wall of the pyramid. At the same time, she stretched out her arms to maintain her balance and sprinted towards the top of the pyramid in a very strange and incredibly fast manner.

I could never do such a sprinting motion, but we also noticed the strangely colored combat boots that Tina was wearing.

Suren exclaimed in a low voice, "Ah? It's the latest biochemical synthetic equipment that imitates a gecko? Amazing! Amazing! Amazing..." She used "amazing" three times to express her astonishment, because this latest equipment, which uses the suction cups on the gecko's four claws and abdomen, is currently the best climbing equipment.

There was once a secret technique in Chinese martial arts manuals called "Gecko Wall-Climbing Skill," which was the pinnacle of light-body skills. It relied entirely on the practitioner's extraordinary internal strength to generate a tremendous internal suction force in their palms, allowing them to adhere to the surface of any object at will and climb to great heights. However, such a skill could absolutely not be achieved without more than thirty years of rigorous, day-and-night training.

Tina's gecko boots, in just one minute, can be equivalent to thirty years of arduous training by a martial arts master, just as a pistol bullet is dozens of times more powerful than a skilled martial artist who has practiced for many years.

Six seconds later, Tina was already standing majestically atop the Turkham Pyramid, laughing and waving at us.

Suren exclaimed in amazement, his mouth half-open, showing just how shocked he was.

Tina's way of doing things was so meticulous that it was practically "watertight." As soon as she decided to come to the pyramids, she immediately and discreetly changed into her gecko boots, seizing the absolute advantage.

Part 4: The Battle Between Heaven and Man

— Chapter 5 — The Hidden Mist Sword Style —

Under these circumstances, no matter how Suren and I reached the summit, we couldn't possibly overshadow Tina. After exchanging a wry smile, I took Suren's hand and prepared to climb to the top.

Tina's phone suddenly rang. She took it out and started answering the call loudly.

Suren lowered her voice: "Brother Feng, I suddenly... don't want to go up. You go up first, I'll search around the base of the tower first." In front of Tina, this imagined "love rival," if I were Suren, I certainly wouldn't slink up the tower like this and admit defeat.

"Okay, be careful. I have a feeling there might be traps or other mechanisms lying in ambush around the pyramids—" I had this feeling before, during the last search, but it passed by so quickly that I didn't pay attention. After experiencing all the strange events in the tunnels and tombs, we must be more vigilant to avoid losing our lives in the vast desert.

Suren patted my arm gently and then let go of my hand.

I looked up at the top of the tower, preparing to use my "Swallow Skimming Three Times" light-footed skill to leap up and avoid losing to Tie Na, when I suddenly heard Tie Na shout into the microphone: "What? What? A body has been found?" When this fierce girl got angry, her voice really sounded like a cheetah roaring.

The other person said something else, and Tina started calling out to me, "Hey, Feng, you..."

The wind was so strong that her voice was scattering everywhere, making it impossible to hear clearly. However, her furious expression revealed that something serious had happened at the camp.

With her arms outstretched, Tina adopted a downhill descent technique reminiscent of alpine skiing, plunging forward and swooping down. When she was still three meters from the ground, she performed a somersault, landing gracefully and steadily. She quickly stuffed her phone into her pocket and said hastily, "Someone died in the camp, I have to go back first!"

She rushed to the car, opened the door, sat down, started the engine, and drove off in one smooth motion, then tossed out, "I'll send someone back to pick you up, don't worry!"

The Mitsubishi SUV roared, kicking up a cloud of dust, and sped off towards the camp.

Throughout the entire process, Suren and I couldn't get a word in edgewise; it was all Tina who was doing everything with lightning speed.

Suren let out a long sigh of relief, seemingly a little more relaxed. But my heart leaped into my throat, because after receiving the call, Tina had called out something to me, as if the dead person was something that was extremely important to me.

As for the camp, I'm only concerned about the tiger who stole the scriptures; I'm afraid he might be ambushed or even shot dead by someone else.

I had already witnessed the power of heavy sniper rifles at the 2005 Italian Arms Expo. At that time, within 800 meters, the exploding bullets fired by the sniper rifle easily shattered a high-quality stainless steel exercise ball; the bullet's velocity and sharpness had reached an unbelievable level.

Tigers are people, and even if he were a real tiger, he probably couldn't withstand the power of a single exploding bullet.

"Brother Feng, what's wrong? What are you worried about?" Su Lun observed my expression as if she could read my mind.

I subconsciously cracked my knuckles and asked thoughtfully, "Su Lun, is the martial arts school of Gu Ye also from a ninja family on the Japanese islands?"

The cunning and unpredictable Japanese ninjas have passed down numerous techniques for concealed weapons, poisons, and ambushes, each one extremely ruthless. If Tiger underestimates Tanino's strength, his fate will likely be...

Gu Ye is adorned with seemingly refined titles such as "internationally renowned archaeologist," "Doctor of Archaeology," and "famous tomb raiding expert," which often overshadow his martial arts skills. After all, in real society, the image of a "scholar" is that of a weak, bookish person who is "incapable of killing a chicken." But I know that Gu Ye is not a scholar; he is an exceptional master in the world of tomb raiding, whose martial arts skills and wisdom far surpass those of ordinary people.

Suren's eyes darted around as she glanced at the billowing dust kicked up by the Mitsubishi. After a moment's hesitation, she cautiously replied, "Brother Feng, actually... actually everyone has their own unique skill for navigating the world. Otherwise, there wouldn't be a place for them in that camp. Gu Ye is, the people from the Tang Clan in Sichuan are—everyone is, including you and me, of course. Don't worry, you should know that to achieve extraordinary things, extraordinary people always need to make extraordinary sacrifices."

These words didn't directly answer my question, but I suspect that Suren really saw right through me.

As a top student of Guan Nan Wulang, Su Lun surprises me greatly in many ways.

"Brother Feng, shall we go up?" Su Lun took my hand in a natural and generous manner, her expression completely at ease, as if our relationship had long been intimate to some extent.

The Turkham Pyramid was entirely within the observation range of the camp's watchtower, and her actions were clearly meant for the people in the camp. As she turned around, I suddenly noticed two gun handles sticking out of her trouser pockets—the Desert Eagles from Tina's vehicle.

I was taken aback, because there was absolutely no reason for her to do this. Even if she had left her own pistol in the Hummer, it wouldn't be right for her to just take Tina's weapon. This was not in line with Suren's personality.

She smiled sheepishly: "I'm just being prepared. By the way, I'll also do a ballistic test on these two guns—Tina is a key figure in the camp, so we should 'take good care' of her."

Although Suren occasionally reveals a vulnerable side to me, she is by no means a frail woman. For example, during our ascent to the top of the tower, she deliberately concealed her light-footed skills, always lagging behind me by a few steps. However, I already trust her to a great extent; of all the people I've met so far, aside from the enigmatic Scalpel, she is the one I trust the most.

We were already standing on this small platform at the top of the tower. The ground, eroded by layers of wind and sand, was bare and yellowish-brown sandstone, nothing out of the ordinary.

The power of wind and sand is immense, and over time, it has slowly eroded these oldest structures on Earth. Perhaps thousands of years from now, all the pyramids exposed in the desert will truly crumble with the wind and sand, becoming part of the vast expanse of yellow sand.

Here, I found absolutely nothing. Even when I crouched down, trying to see every crack in the stone and every pattern on the slabs clearly, the stone was simply stone, and the sand was simply sand—nothing seemed out of place. So, what about that mysterious white light that accompanied Youlian that night? Where did it come from? Where did it go?

I stretched out my right hand and gently pressed it on the center of the top of the pyramid. For a long time, I had the illusion that this posture would allow me to communicate smoothly with the mysterious power stored inside the pyramid.

Archaeologists throughout history have proposed the theory of "pyramid energy," which suggests that the mysterious pyramids are constantly filled with an unseen and nameless energy, completely different from any other energy known to humankind. The extraordinary nature of "pyramid energy" is that it can rapidly dry corpses, preventing them from decaying and acting as a powerful preservative.

This theory was quite popular with the Global Pyramid Research Association for a while, but later, as the excavation of the Great Pyramid of Giza was hindered, the theory of "ability" was no longer mentioned.

“Brother Wind, do you suspect that the top of the tower we are on might be the entrance to a 'wormhole'?” Suren also squatted down. The wind at the top of the tower was strong, making her hair and clothes fly wildly.

If only this were the entrance to a wormhole, in an instant, my palm would break through the limitations of gravity and spacetime on Earth and enter another unknown world, while my body would still exist atop the Tu Liehan Pyramid, together with Suren. I focused all my attention on my palm; in the afterglow of the setting sun, the black hairs on the back of my hand were clearly visible.

Each time I concentrate and calm my mind, my heart becomes clear and serene, as if I have entered a state of "forgetting oneself and the world" like an old monk in meditation.

Suddenly, I remembered something, something that had flashed through my mind deep in the tomb—"Suren, there's a big problem! A big problem!" I looked up, but first heard Suren's "click, click" as she chambered the bullets. She had already gripped both pistols in her hands, lightly rubbing them against her knees to release the safety.

"Brother Feng, it's not just a big problem, it's a huge trouble..." she whispered with a bitter smile.

The wind in the cemetery subsided, and a rare tranquility, a welcome respite from the sandstorms of the desert, filled my ears.

In sight, six masked men dressed in earthen gray robes stood firmly on the northern slope of the pyramid, dragging long knives behind their backs, displaying a fierce and menacing posture. These six men, with only their eyes exposed, gleamed with a sharp light, and remained silent. They were entirely earthen gray from head to toe, almost the same color as the sandstone that had been eroded and riddled with holes.

Judging from the style of their longswords, anyone with even a basic understanding of martial arts would conclude: "Japanese samurai swords! Only Japanese samurai and ninjas would use such swords!"

The katana is one of the world's top ten famous swords, and is ranked alongside the Yingjisha sword from Xinjiang, China, the Longquan sword from Cangzhou, Hebei, and the Green Dragon Crescent Blade from Taiyuan, Shanxi as one of Asia's top cold weapons. It is the iconic weapon of Japanese warriors.

I shouted, "Who goes there? You've got the wrong person!"

It was clear that these six people were brimming with murderous intent, and my shouts were in simple Japanese phrases that they should be able to understand.

I have never had any conflicts with the Japanese martial arts figures, and since we're currently in the African desert, there's no conflict of interest between us, and no reason for us to fight. Judging from their stance with their swords drawn, each of them is incredibly skilled, and I certainly don't want to get dragged into this battle for no reason.

Suren sighed softly, "It's no use. They don't listen to what you say at all. Last time, I spent at least five minutes asking and explaining in Japanese, listing out the relationships between the major samurai families and ninja schools on the Japanese islands, but in the end, a chaotic battle was still inevitable."

"Last time? Could these be Kirigakure Ittō-ryū ninjas?" My blood started to boil.

Suren nodded, concealing the muzzle of his gun on the side of his knee, and slowly raised it to aim at the two gray-clad men in front of him.

I've felt guilty ever since I caused Suren to get injured in the desert last time. This time, encountering a one-sword style ninja again is the perfect opportunity for revenge.

"Ya-yi—" the six men shouted simultaneously, raising their swords overhead. The gleaming blades shone brilliantly in the setting sun. Now, I could clearly see that both sides of the six longswords were engraved with crimson cherry blossoms, scattered haphazardly, creating a beautiful scene of falling petals.

"Cherry Blossom Entangling Blade" - that was the unique weapon of the once extremely glorious Fuki ninja family on the Japanese islands, and the magical legend of the master swordsmith Fuki has been adapted into Japanese manga countless times, becoming an extremely exciting legend in the martial arts world.

The "Hidden Mist One-Sword Style" sword technique was created by Bu Guidao himself. It emphasizes the combined strength of several people to launch a fierce attack on a single opponent, much like a sudden gust of wind in a cherry blossom forest in late spring, with petals flying everywhere, making it impossible for the opponent to defend against.

As someone from the martial arts world, I was already very familiar with the legends mentioned above. My fingers were already gripping the golden revolver I had just acquired from the scalpel. Its twelve-round magazine should be enough to kill these six ninjas, and I could finally show off my shooting skills in front of Suren.

Of course, if I had a weapon in hand, I couldn't resist the urge to experience the group battle of the Mist Village One-Sword Style.

"Brother Feng, be careful. These people have a very strange background. The bullets don't seem to be lethal enough to them." Suren slowly stood up and revealed his two pistols.

The assassins of the One-Sword Style appear without warning. Their clothing blends easily into the desert sands, making them difficult to detect. But it's hard to say they have a strange origin.

A flash of light, followed by four rapid gunshots, and the first round lasted only two seconds. To my surprise, although Suren's bullets accurately struck four of the men in the chest, the bullets whistling through their chests, none of the four men fell down bleeding.

All four men, dressed in grey, had a bullet hole about the size of a thumb piercing their chests, all in the exact same spot, right in the center of their left chest, near their hearts. An ordinary person would immediately lose their basic fighting ability after being shot through the heart, and would die within minutes. Suren's bullet, however, had only slowed and stopped the enemy's attack; it lacked sufficient lethality.

Six swords simultaneously swung and attacked, the light of the setting sun, the gleam of the blades, and the reflections on the surfaces creating an extremely sharp and ferocious net of light. There was no sound of wind or fighting, only a surging, cold killing intent.

The revolver had a large capacity of twelve rounds, and I also had two small boxes of ammunition that came with the scalpel in my pocket. In a normal fight, these bullets would be enough to handle a Mafia brawl on the streets of Italy. I remained crouched, my left knee bent on the ground, holding the gun in my right hand and supporting my wrist with my left, firing the first bullet in a standard Italian kneeling firing position.

Without aiming, I could tell that my bullet had entered the center of a gray-clad man's forehead without the slightest error, delivering a fatal blow.

Having witnessed dozens of executions by firing squad, I know that if the bullet were to enter the forehead horizontally and exit through the back of the head, almost everyone on Earth would die within five seconds.

Physically speaking, the gray-clad man who was hit was already "dead," but he only staggered, his eyes radiating a more ferocious and fearless fanaticism. With a series of quick steps, he leaped forward and slashed at me with his sword.

I fired only one shot, but Suren quickly emptied the chamber of bullets by repeatedly pulling the trigger with both index fingers. The gunshots rang out in rapid succession, indicating that the two pistols Tina had hidden had undergone sophisticated modifications, increasing the Desert Eagle's rate of fire by at least five times.

Bullets are ineffective against ninjas of the One-Sword Style. I truly admire the Japanese ninja clans; they actually developed a bizarre skill that made them "unaffected by bullets," no less impressive than the "Small Knife Society" of the late Qing Dynasty, who used incantations and spirit possession to resist the firearms of the Eight-Nation Alliance. If this skill had been widely promoted in the Japanese army, who on the global battlefield could have been their match?