They Came Right Out!

The captain had only gotten this far when Fang Linyan snatched the microphone from him and snarled,

"Don't try anything funny! I can see the cabin on the monitors here. Everyone needs to sit in their seats with their hands on their heads. Anyone coming over must stop five meters from the cockpit, and there can only be two of you. Otherwise, I'll set off the bomb and we'll all die together!"

As he spoke, Fang Linyan kept a close eye on the monitor beside him, watching for any movement in the cabin.

This was a weakness Fang Linyan had deliberately exposed.

Instead of searching for them the hard way, he would make them come right out on their own!

If the terrorists still wanted to complete their mission, then this trip to treat the wounded was a perfect opportunity. Under such time pressure, they were bound to leave clues. If nothing went wrong, they would do everything they could to secure the two volunteer spots!

The terrorists would also be sticking together at this point. So anyone who huddled and spoke with the two volunteers at this critical moment would be highly suspect.

There was one more thing he needed to keep in mind: terrorists hijacking a plane usually didn't buy seats together. Instead, they spread themselves around the cabin so they could respond to unexpected developments. That made it much easier for Fang Linyan to identify them. He only needed to keep an eye on the handful of eager volunteers and watch what they did. That would tell him almost everything he needed to know!

Within just a few dozen seconds, two volunteers were selected in a very public fashion. They seemed deeply concerned about the wounded passenger's condition and hurried to the first-class cabin. Their faces were full of passion and urgency, as if they were desperate to help the people and share their worries.

The other passengers watched them and silently marveled at the goodness still left in the world. There weren't many people as warmhearted and selfless as these volunteers. They were risking their lives to save someone, yet they had rushed to sign up, afraid of being left behind. It was as though they were scrambling to buy discounted goods at a supermarket. The worried looks on their faces made it seem like their own relatives had been injured.

One of the volunteers was Asian, a man in his early thirties who wore glasses and looked rather scholarly, though he was heavily built.

The other was a Black woman with a heavyset figure.

Fang Linyan watched them on the monitor and smiled faintly, but didn't react.

After the two volunteers reached the door, they tried to act calm. But after waiting for two minutes, they grew increasingly agitated, pacing like ants on a hot pan. At last, the Asian man lost patience and shouted at the camera,

"Didn't you call us over to treat the wounded? Don't you know that if his wound keeps bleeding, he'll be in serious danger?"

Fang Linyan laughed to himself. I doubt it's the wounded man you're worried about. The plane's fuel is probably almost gone. He waited a little longer, letting their frustration build to its peak, then suddenly bellowed into the intercom,

"Did you not hear what I said, you son of a bitch? Don't come within five meters of the cockpit! I'll send the wounded man out myself. Otherwise, you can wait there and collect his body! But that's fine by me. One more death will show off my strength and make those Boston cops understand I'm not joking!"

At Fang Linyan's words, the two volunteers' eyes practically blazed with fury. But they realized that getting angry wouldn't make the cabin door open, so they could only step back obediently.

But Fang Linyan wasn't about to let them off that easily. He toyed with them like a cat playing with mice, sometimes accusing them of carrying weapons and ordering them to take off their clothes, sometimes claiming they were acting suspiciously and making them recite their life stories.

The two were driven to distraction, practically boiling with rage, yet they could only let him manipulate them like puppets. At last, they heard some good news: the hijacker seemed to have had his fun. He said he was thirsty and told them to bring a cup of coffee to the door. Once he had drunk it, he would let the wounded man out.

After being toyed with for so long, the two volunteers turned and left as soon as they heard this. They couldn't help feeling that they were finally free, and began thinking about how to launch a surprise attack while fetching the coffee.

To their surprise, the cabin door suddenly swung open at that very moment! The sudden turn of events caught them completely off guard.

Fang Linyan darted out through the doorway. He raised his right hand, revealing a palm-sized crossbow in it. He had taken it apart and assembled its components earlier, and its bowstring was made from a special steel wire he had salvaged from inside a clock.

Did the crossbow look familiar?

It did. Fang Linyan had gotten the idea from the Contractor he'd encountered earlier, a middle-aged man, and then figured out how to make a knockoff!

That might sound difficult, but it didn't require particularly advanced skills. In fact, a pistol only needed eight major components and eleven minor ones. The famous AK had only thirteen major parts and thirty-four minor ones. A short crossbow like this was even simpler.

Of course, Fang Linyan could only imitate the mechanical design. He couldn't shoot an electric needle from the crossbow like that middle-aged man had, rendering his target helpless without them even noticing. That kind of thing belonged to the advanced technology of the space.

Fang Linyan raised his hand and fired. From the moment he entered this world, he had possessed Basic Shooting LV1. The two of them were only five or six meters away, close enough that he had a good chance of hitting even with his eyes closed. A crossbow bolt made from a nail shot out and struck the Asian man in the chest.

The Asian man felt a numbness in his chest. He had only taken a step when a sharp pain seized him. Blood poured out, staining his white shirt red. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath as the strength rapidly drained from his body.

In that state, all he could do was glare at Fang Linyan, eyes nearly bulging from their sockets, as though he were facing a mortal enemy who had murdered his father and stolen his mother.

A tiny crossbow bolt shouldn't have been that powerful. The reason it was so effective was that Fang Linyan had smeared it with a common industrial poison after finishing its construction. Once it entered the body and drew blood, the poison took effect almost instantly.

The Black woman was clearly no professional. She didn't make the best possible move—charging Fang Linyan while he was reloading. Instead, she screamed and rushed to help her companion, panic overriding her judgment.

Only after her companion weakly pointed at Fang Linyan did she scream and charge at him in fury. Unfortunately for her, Fang Linyan had already finished reloading. He shrugged, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

Little Fang hijacking the plane so nobody else could hijack it was just the basics, no need to be alarmed. Sit back down. Otherwise, what'll you do later when you see him pull off a slick move and get an SS rating?