Even if the Mutant could kill every soldier in front of it, it would still have to face the several "Saber-Toothed Tiger" riot-control armored vehicles that had already driven into the airport.
The multifunctional, semi-enclosed combination turrets mounted on those vehicles held an M2 Heavy Machine Gun, a weapon of mass destruction. It fired 12.7×99 mm Browning machine-gun rounds, capable of spraying thousands of bullets in a mere ten seconds and unleashing a terrifying storm of steel. Against that thing, the Mutant would almost certainly be doomed.
So even though he knew the Mutant was still glaring viciously at him, and even though it was only thirty or forty meters away, Fang Linyan obediently raised his hands and stopped. Then he shrugged at the approaching cop and said:
"SIR, SIR, please hear me out. Could you point that gun somewhere else? I'm as harmless as a Boston Red-billed Gull, for Christ's sake!"
"The reason I was running so fast is that the monster behind me thought I was a hot, fresh sandwich—with peanut butter and an extra-long hot dog on it. Trust me, if you were in my shoes, you'd run as fast as you could, too."
The cop looked Fang Linyan up and down and lowered his gun, though he still kept a certain distance. Then he said seriously:
"OK, sir, you're safe now. But you've just left an area contaminated by biological agents, so you'll need to be examined and disinfected before you can return to normal life. Please sit down where you are, and let us know if you have any reasonable requests. We'll do our best to accommodate you."
Fang Linyan sat down without hesitation. He was just about to turn around and check what had happened to the Mutant when a series of messages appeared across his retina:
"Notice: The life signs of the Tier 1 Bio-Weapon Mutant have fallen below 3 points and are continuing to decline."
"It can be assumed that the Tier 1 Bio-Weapon Mutant is dead."
"You have gained 45% completion."
"Your mission completion has increased from 50% to 95%."
"Your current mission rating is B."
After reading these messages, Fang Linyan frowned. Something still felt wrong, as if he had overlooked something vitally important.
"Wait, why is it a B rating? Is it really over already?"
Just then, another series of messages popped up:
"Notice: All passengers aboard American Airlines Flight 11 (from Boston Logan International Airport to Los Angeles) have now left the plane. Six are seriously injured and eleven are slightly injured. They are receiving treatment and being transported to hospitals. They can therefore be considered safe, and their fates have been changed."
"Main Mission: Reverse History is about to end. Countdown to completion: sixty seconds."
"Fifty-nine."
"Fifty-eight."
"."
As the countdown ticked away, the sense that something was off grew stronger in Fang Linyan's mind.
Fortunately, he was the sort of person who could stay calm in a crisis. He slowly closed his eyes and carefully recalled everything that had happened since he boarded the plane. Countless details flowed through his mind like water.
Suddenly, Fang Linyan's eyes lit up. He sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes filled with delight.
"I know! I know! The truth... The truth was hidden so deeply. So that's what it was!"
Having made up his mind, Fang Linyan suddenly paused, then stood up. The cop beside him frowned and shouted:
"Hey! What are you doing? Sit down!"
Fang Linyan glanced at him and smiled faintly. With a flick of his wrist, a nail more than ten centimeters long appeared between his fingers. It was the bolt for the crossbow he had made himself.
Then he abruptly drove the thin bolt deep into his own chest with the back of his hand!
The cop stared at the scene, stunned. A few seconds later, he shouted frantically into his radio:
"I need medical assistance here! Repeat, I need medical assistance! A passenger has suddenly started self-harming!"
The moment the bolt struck, the poison smeared on it made Fang Linyan tremble with pain. But he still seemed unsatisfied. Gritting his teeth, he pulled the bolt back out and stabbed himself in the throat!
His facial muscles twitched uncontrollably. Feeling utterly weak, Fang Linyan collapsed limply. His vision began to darken, but he still received a notification:
"."
"Your throat (vital area) has suffered 28 points of damage. You have lost the ability to speak."
"Your remaining health is 6 points, less than 10% of your maximum health."
"You have entered a near-death state. Your vision, hearing, taste, and mobility have been severely impaired."
Aside from the pain, Fang Linyan felt as if he had slipped into a half-conscious state. His connection to the outside world had weakened dramatically. Everything around him seemed to spin and recede. Everywhere he looked, the world was blurred and dim gray.
The sounds around him were muffled and indistinct, like those heard by someone submerged underwater. The clearest sounds were his own breathing and heartbeat.
But after he entered a near-death state, another series of messages appeared across his retina:
"Terrorist Jerry Lin has lost the ability to fight. You have gained 20% completion. Your current completion is 110%."
"You have wiped out the 7th Armed Group of the terrorist organization Al-Qaeda. You have gained a 20% bonus to your completion. Your current completion is 130%."
"Countdown complete. Main Mission: Reverse History is officially complete. You have successfully incapacitated all the terrorists! You have successfully changed the fate of most of the passengers on this plane!"
"Base mission rating: Excellent (B+)."
"Your mission completion has exceeded 100%!"
"Your mission rating has been raised by one tier."
"Mission rating upgraded to: Astonishing (A+)."
"Your mission completion is 130%. The extra 30% completion will be converted into a rating bonus. Conversion in progress."
"Your mission rating has been raised by one additional tier."
"Your mission rating has been upgraded to: Almost Impossible (S)."
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