Backup Plan

It was unmistakably a set of brass knuckles!

The inside was smooth and lined with velvet, making them comfortable to wear. But at the knuckles, screws and gears had been embedded in the metal. Their sharp edges made the weapon's lethality all too clear.

Fang Linyan tried them on and found them comfortable. He was quite pleased. They were also easy to conceal: with his right hand tucked into a pocket or sleeve, no one would suspect the danger he was hiding.

What puzzled him was that the Voodoo Doll he'd hastily made earlier had seemed to earn the space's approval as soon as it was finished, displaying specific attributes. He'd put ten times as much effort and money into making these brass knuckles, and by his own reckoning, they were a rare masterpiece. Yet the space had shown no reaction.

After finishing the brass knuckles, Fang Linyan continued assembling weapons. He was secretly relieved that he'd predicted how perilous this flight would be and prepared these tools for self-defense. Otherwise, completing the mission would have been extremely difficult.

As Fang Linyan worked, the plane's intercom suddenly crackled to life. The announcement began with the usual pleasantries—"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard"—and other empty words. Then the flight attendant got down to business: they would be serving a meal in half an hour.

At that, a thought dawned on Fang Linyan. If the terrorists planned to make their move, the meal service would be an ideal opportunity. The cockpit door might be opened while the flight attendants served food, and their movements through the cabin would draw people's attention, making an assault on the cockpit less conspicuous.

With the flight attendants out serving meals, there would also be one less force to resist them when they attacked the cockpit.

Of course, these factors wouldn't make a huge difference to the overall plan. Even if the terrorists accounted for them, at most they might improve their odds of success by one or two percentage points.

But to people who valued their cause more than their own lives, even a single percentage point—or a mere 0.1 percent—was worth pursuing.

With a soft click, Fang Linyan fitted the final part into place. His last handmade weapon was ready. He tucked it into his waistband.

Then he checked the time and muttered,

"Twenty-seven minutes until they serve the meal."

He remained composed. What he had to do next wouldn't be easy. It was reasonable to assume the terrorists would place members in first class, the section closest to the cockpit. That would make it convenient for them to gather, discuss their plans, and deal with anything unexpected.

Fang Linyan was nearly certain there were at least two terrorists in first class. His priority was to find them. If he couldn't, he'd be at a serious disadvantage.

"Five minutes." That was the deadline he set himself.

If he couldn't do it within five minutes, he would have to abandon his first plan and switch to the riskier second one. But fortune favored the bold, and with Fang Linyan already walking on thin ice, he couldn't afford to be picky.

The minutes ticked by. Five of them passed in a flash, but Fang Linyan hadn't found anyone suspicious in first class. Or, more accurately, everyone seemed suspicious to him—but that didn't help. He couldn't just kill them all.

So Fang Linyan sighed and quietly took something out: the Voodoo Doll he'd made himself. He didn't want to resort to this, but if he didn't, it was practically the only way to complete the main mission perfectly.

He closed his eyes and immediately cast the dark art Blood Spider! A bizarre, translucent, dark-red spider sprang from the Voodoo Doll. It bounced nimbly a few times, then crawled toward the cockpit door some ten meters ahead.

The Blood Spider was both real and illusory. Scientifically speaking, its physical form was a wisp of vapor produced by evaporating blood, infused with a malevolent supernatural force. As long as vapor could slip through somewhere, the Blood Spider could pass through too.

So even though the door connecting first class to the cockpit was sturdy and locked, there were still gaps around it. The Blood Spider crawled through with ease, then leaped onto the copilot's neck and sank its fangs into him.

The moment the Blood Spider bit down, its venom took effect. The pilot clutched his neck and let out a long scream, leaping from his seat before collapsing to the floor and writhing in agony.

The captain at the controls was stunned by the sudden emergency. Fortunately, the plane was on autopilot. He hurried to help his colleague, but the cockpit couldn't be left unmanned for long. When he realized he couldn't handle the situation alone, his first response was to call for a flight attendant over the internal intercom.

When the captain said his colleague had suddenly fallen ill and needed help, the flight attendants grew alarmed. They rushed to send two people to assist. This was exactly what Fang Linyan had hoped for: to help, they would have to open the cockpit door!

As soon as the flight attendant opened it, Fang Linyan sprang from his seat and dashed forward. He roughly shoved her aside, slipped into the cockpit, and slammed the door shut behind him, locking it. Then he spun around and punched the charging captain as hard as he could!

The captain was confident in his size and strength. He was a head taller than Fang Linyan, and charged in, planning to take a punch, overpower him, and throw him to the ground. But he hadn't noticed the custom-made brass knuckles on Fang Linyan's fist!

The captain had barely grabbed Fang Linyan by the shoulders when a heavy punch slammed into his stomach.

He felt as if a furious bull had gored him. His insides seemed to twist and turn over one another. Gagging, he dropped to his knees, his face deathly pale.

Fang Linyan followed up with a knee to the bridge of his nose. Blood poured from the captain's nose, his vision swam, and he lost the ability to fight.