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Chapter 272: Guns Are Really Useful
After being fairly elected captain, Orin Vale went to the Commander for more information, only to find out it wasn't as simple as he'd let on.
Calling them insurance in case the first group of cultists failed wasn't entirely accurate. The plan went something like this.
First, there were teams responsible for reconnaissance and interference. Then, an elite, fully armed squad of Blood Cultists would intercept the A.R.G.U.S. convoy on the main route. If the package got away during the chaos, several more intercept teams were positioned in all directions within the Forest.
Orin Vale's team, however, was part of an even more peripheral encirclement. They were the backup option if even the intercept teams failed to stop the package. To put it more accurately, they were the insurance's insurance; their chance of seeing action was almost zero.
But it was actually quite reasonable. The other cultists belonged to an established Organization with a proper structure, teammates who had chemistry and understood each other. On the other hand, their team, to put it nicely, was a temporarily formed Special Group. To put it bluntly, they were a bunch of lone wolves being re-employed. It would be downright bizarre if they were entrusted with a critical mission.
But that was fine.
If there was no opportunity, they could very well create one themselves.
After getting the intel, Orin Vale and the few from the Justice League conferred. Using telepathy, they established their Cranial Conference Room, leaving out the few True Believers for a brief discussion.
First, no matter what this group was planning, they could not be allowed to succeed. After all, a bunch of people who spent all day thinking about summoning an evil god to bring about the world's destruction couldn't be up to any good. So, they quickly reached a consensus: the primary objective of the operation was to secretly sabotage this mission.
Second, if the "package" was truly important, it was questionable whether it should be left in the hands of A.R.G.U.S. After all, although that reckless bunch was better than the Blood Cultists, A.R.G.U.S. would be just as much of a headache if they got their hands on a dangerous toy. So, depending on the situation, they might have to consider snatching the package from A.R.G.U.S.
Additionally, they of course had to find out what exactly the package was and what was so important that it warranted the Blood Cultists mobilizing on such a large scale. Orin Vale had initially thought mind reading would be the easiest way to get the answer. But upon reading his mind, he discovered the Commander was just being deliberately mysterious, acting as if it was a secret he couldn't divulge, a classic "if you know, you know, but I can't say it." In reality, reading his mind revealed that he didn't know a damn thing; he was just a messenger for his superiors.
An additional objective of the mission, under the best-case scenario, was for none of them to be exposed. They would stealthily ruin the operation and swipe the "package" amidst the chaos, but it was best if neither A.R.G.U.S. nor the Blood Cultists knew the Justice League had interfered.
The former was to avoid political disputes; Amanda Waller would surely fly into a rage if she knew the Justice League had hijacked her cargo. The latter was for the sake of their undercover identities. Orin Vale wanted to play the long game to catch a bigger fish, and it would be a shame to lose so many covers.
Summing up all the factors, the mission seemed to be on a hell-level of difficulty at first glance, almost on par with an "impossible mission" from *Mission: Impossible*. But considering that the executors were all god-like beings, it didn't seem so bad after all.
Orin Vale first sent the few True Believers off to the sidelines, under the pretext of monitoring the situation. Then, the remaining undercover agents split up, each infiltrating other teams to look for opportunities and act accordingly.
Night fell. All personnel were deployed and waited patiently. The operation had entered its countdown.
At this very moment, under the deep Night Sky, the A.R.G.U.S. convoy was slowly driving through an ancient Forest. From a distance, it looked like a long snake woven from light and shadow. On the long, silent road, only the low rumble of wheels rolling through the endless darkness continuously broke the Forest's silence.
The trees on both sides stood like a host of giants. Their branches and leaves whispered in the night wind, making a dull rustling sound overhead, as if someone were constantly jeering in a low voice. The trees had various shapes; some were twisted, others tall and straight. Their overlapping layers of branches and leaves formed a vast canopy in the night, obscuring the moonlight and stars, making the distant Space seem unreachable.
And the archaeologist being escorted on this trip, Adrianna, was sitting in the cabin of one of the cars.
Her Assistant was beside her, craning his neck to peer out the window. Watching the trees, illuminated by the headlights, recede rapidly from view, their forms appearing even more bizarre due to the high speed, he couldn't help but pull his head back in.
"Don't you have a bad premonition about this?" the Assistant asked.
Adrianna was looking down, flipping through documents. "No, why?"
"It's just... you know, it's always like this in horror movies, right? A group of people passes through a strange forest, and then people start disappearing, one by one. You can feel something getting closer, but you just can't see it."
"Is that so? But you know, having people disappear isn't the scariest part in these situations."
Adrianna looked up, a mysterious and unsettling smile on her face.
"The scariest part is when you do a headcount and find out there are more people than before."
The Assistant froze, his mouth agape.
Adrianna laughed out loud. "Ha, if you ask me, you should watch fewer horror movies. Nothing's going to happen. This A.R.G.U.S. bunch is just making a big fuss over nothing. We're just transporting an amulet, an old thing from thousands of years ago. What could possibly go wrong?"
"Wait," the Assistant stammered, "I think... I think there really are more people..."
Adrianna frowned. "Come on, I was just joking... okay, maybe I shouldn't have made that joke, sorry. But you don't need to be so paranoid about it..."
"No," the Assistant said, pointing behind them. "There were only supposed to be two cars following us, right?"
Adrianna paused, following his gaze to look behind them.
It was true.
An extra car had appeared at the rear of the convoy at some point.
Her pupils contracted, a dangerous instinct warning her, but it was too late. A deafening roar, followed by an explosion—an explosion that sent the entire armored car flipping over. She felt the seatbelt dig tightly into her, holding her in place as the whole world spun around her.
They had been ambushed.
Figures began to emerge from all around, from behind the shrubs and trees. Silhouettes in black robes appeared, the flames stretching their shadows long, making them twist and dance on the ground as the fire flickered.
"Offer up your flesh and blood."
"For the great Lord."
"Tremble before the Lord's divine power, and be annihilated!"
The eerie chanting seemed to echo in everyone's ears, as if carried by some strange magnetic force.
But the next moment, the unexpected happened.
The cultists all pulled out guns.
Rat-a-tat-tat...
They began spraying bullets toward the center from all directions.
The A.R.G.U.S. soldiers began to return fire. A rain of bullets crisscrossed the area, the sound of gunfire drowning out everything else. The Assistant cowered in the car, clutching his head and crying, "Seriously? Do evil gods cut corners this much nowadays? Is the divinely granted power just bullets?"
In truth, it wasn't that the Blood Cultists didn't have power bestowed by demons. It was just that the cultists felt that even proselytizing had to keep up with the times. Sometimes, to achieve their goals, one had to learn to adapt to the era.
And sometimes, a gun was just really convenient.
The two sides began to exchange fire, showering each other with a rain of bullets.
But at this moment, no one had noticed.
A golden lightning bolt, too fast for the human eye to see, was quietly streaking across the entire Battlefield.
(end of chapter)
After being fairly elected captain, Orin Vale went to the Commander for more information, only to find out it wasn't as simple as he'd let on.
Calling them insurance in case the first group of cultists failed wasn't entirely accurate. The plan went something like this.
First, there were teams responsible for reconnaissance and interference. Then, an elite, fully armed squad of Blood Cultists would intercept the A.R.G.U.S. convoy on the main route. If the package got away during the chaos, several more intercept teams were positioned in all directions within the Forest.
Orin Vale's team, however, was part of an even more peripheral encirclement. They were the backup option if even the intercept teams failed to stop the package. To put it more accurately, they were the insurance's insurance; their chance of seeing action was almost zero.
But it was actually quite reasonable. The other cultists belonged to an established Organization with a proper structure, teammates who had chemistry and understood each other. On the other hand, their team, to put it nicely, was a temporarily formed Special Group. To put it bluntly, they were a bunch of lone wolves being re-employed. It would be downright bizarre if they were entrusted with a critical mission.
But that was fine.
If there was no opportunity, they could very well create one themselves.
After getting the intel, Orin Vale and the few from the Justice League conferred. Using telepathy, they established their Cranial Conference Room, leaving out the few True Believers for a brief discussion.
First, no matter what this group was planning, they could not be allowed to succeed. After all, a bunch of people who spent all day thinking about summoning an evil god to bring about the world's destruction couldn't be up to any good. So, they quickly reached a consensus: the primary objective of the operation was to secretly sabotage this mission.
Second, if the "package" was truly important, it was questionable whether it should be left in the hands of A.R.G.U.S. After all, although that reckless bunch was better than the Blood Cultists, A.R.G.U.S. would be just as much of a headache if they got their hands on a dangerous toy. So, depending on the situation, they might have to consider snatching the package from A.R.G.U.S.
Additionally, they of course had to find out what exactly the package was and what was so important that it warranted the Blood Cultists mobilizing on such a large scale. Orin Vale had initially thought mind reading would be the easiest way to get the answer. But upon reading his mind, he discovered the Commander was just being deliberately mysterious, acting as if it was a secret he couldn't divulge, a classic "if you know, you know, but I can't say it." In reality, reading his mind revealed that he didn't know a damn thing; he was just a messenger for his superiors.
An additional objective of the mission, under the best-case scenario, was for none of them to be exposed. They would stealthily ruin the operation and swipe the "package" amidst the chaos, but it was best if neither A.R.G.U.S. nor the Blood Cultists knew the Justice League had interfered.
The former was to avoid political disputes; Amanda Waller would surely fly into a rage if she knew the Justice League had hijacked her cargo. The latter was for the sake of their undercover identities. Orin Vale wanted to play the long game to catch a bigger fish, and it would be a shame to lose so many covers.
Summing up all the factors, the mission seemed to be on a hell-level of difficulty at first glance, almost on par with an "impossible mission" from *Mission: Impossible*. But considering that the executors were all god-like beings, it didn't seem so bad after all.
Orin Vale first sent the few True Believers off to the sidelines, under the pretext of monitoring the situation. Then, the remaining undercover agents split up, each infiltrating other teams to look for opportunities and act accordingly.
Night fell. All personnel were deployed and waited patiently. The operation had entered its countdown.
At this very moment, under the deep Night Sky, the A.R.G.U.S. convoy was slowly driving through an ancient Forest. From a distance, it looked like a long snake woven from light and shadow. On the long, silent road, only the low rumble of wheels rolling through the endless darkness continuously broke the Forest's silence.
The trees on both sides stood like a host of giants. Their branches and leaves whispered in the night wind, making a dull rustling sound overhead, as if someone were constantly jeering in a low voice. The trees had various shapes; some were twisted, others tall and straight. Their overlapping layers of branches and leaves formed a vast canopy in the night, obscuring the moonlight and stars, making the distant Space seem unreachable.
And the archaeologist being escorted on this trip, Adrianna, was sitting in the cabin of one of the cars.
Her Assistant was beside her, craning his neck to peer out the window. Watching the trees, illuminated by the headlights, recede rapidly from view, their forms appearing even more bizarre due to the high speed, he couldn't help but pull his head back in.
"Don't you have a bad premonition about this?" the Assistant asked.
Adrianna was looking down, flipping through documents. "No, why?"
"It's just... you know, it's always like this in horror movies, right? A group of people passes through a strange forest, and then people start disappearing, one by one. You can feel something getting closer, but you just can't see it."
"Is that so? But you know, having people disappear isn't the scariest part in these situations."
Adrianna looked up, a mysterious and unsettling smile on her face.
"The scariest part is when you do a headcount and find out there are more people than before."
The Assistant froze, his mouth agape.
Adrianna laughed out loud. "Ha, if you ask me, you should watch fewer horror movies. Nothing's going to happen. This A.R.G.U.S. bunch is just making a big fuss over nothing. We're just transporting an amulet, an old thing from thousands of years ago. What could possibly go wrong?"
"Wait," the Assistant stammered, "I think... I think there really are more people..."
Adrianna frowned. "Come on, I was just joking... okay, maybe I shouldn't have made that joke, sorry. But you don't need to be so paranoid about it..."
"No," the Assistant said, pointing behind them. "There were only supposed to be two cars following us, right?"
Adrianna paused, following his gaze to look behind them.
It was true.
An extra car had appeared at the rear of the convoy at some point.
Her pupils contracted, a dangerous instinct warning her, but it was too late. A deafening roar, followed by an explosion—an explosion that sent the entire armored car flipping over. She felt the seatbelt dig tightly into her, holding her in place as the whole world spun around her.
They had been ambushed.
Figures began to emerge from all around, from behind the shrubs and trees. Silhouettes in black robes appeared, the flames stretching their shadows long, making them twist and dance on the ground as the fire flickered.
"Offer up your flesh and blood."
"For the great Lord."
"Tremble before the Lord's divine power, and be annihilated!"
The eerie chanting seemed to echo in everyone's ears, as if carried by some strange magnetic force.
But the next moment, the unexpected happened.
The cultists all pulled out guns.
Rat-a-tat-tat...
They began spraying bullets toward the center from all directions.
The A.R.G.U.S. soldiers began to return fire. A rain of bullets crisscrossed the area, the sound of gunfire drowning out everything else. The Assistant cowered in the car, clutching his head and crying, "Seriously? Do evil gods cut corners this much nowadays? Is the divinely granted power just bullets?"
In truth, it wasn't that the Blood Cultists didn't have power bestowed by demons. It was just that the cultists felt that even proselytizing had to keep up with the times. Sometimes, to achieve their goals, one had to learn to adapt to the era.
And sometimes, a gun was just really convenient.
The two sides began to exchange fire, showering each other with a rain of bullets.
But at this moment, no one had noticed.
A golden lightning bolt, too fast for the human eye to see, was quietly streaking across the entire Battlefield.
(end of chapter)
