American Comics: Tales of Cultivator

**Chapter 66: Silencing and Selling Goods**

After a full half hour passed, inside the Engine Room, a sailor tremblingly pushed open the door, poked his head out, and cautiously moved to the Window.

Several shark fins emerged from the water on the Sea Surface, feeding on the remaining corpses and shredded meat in the sea.

The sailor looked at the shark fins exposed on the Sea Surface, let out a long sigh of relief, and slumped onto the ground.

It's gone, that damned octopus is gone.

Otherwise, facing such a top predator, these sharks wouldn't dare to come near.

The sailor wiped the sweat from his forehead while stumbling back into the Engine Room, calling out the few companions hidden inside.

Ten minutes later, the survivors hidden throughout the cruise ship emerged one after another.

The First Mate, along with some sailors, counted the number of survivors, barely maintaining order amidst the wails and cries.

On the Deck, the First Mate looked grimly at the tattered cruise ship and the corpses scattered everywhere.

He knew that the Costa Cruise Ship was finished this time.

Even with the insurance company covering the losses, with so many people dead on this ship, the best outcome would be for the company to go bankrupt and liquidate.

One must know that many people on this ship were wealthy and influential. Their deaths on board would lead to astronomical sums in subsequent claims and settlements from their families.

The First Mate took off his glasses, breathed onto the lenses, and pulled out a white handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the fogging gold-rimmed glasses.

As the handkerchief rubbed against the lenses, the First Mate's face was ashen. He was thinking about how to explain things to the Family/Clan.

The reason he could hold the position of First Mate on the Costa Cruise Ship was because he had a Mafia Godfather for a father.

Doing business in Italy, it was unavoidable to deal with Mafia Families/Clans to some extent.

Many people thought that in modern society, with improved systems, old organizations like the Mafia were outdated and eliminated by the times.

But the First Mate, as the illegitimate son of a Mafia Godfather, knew deeply that his Family/Clan's influence still permeated all walks of life in Italy.

It was just that the Mafia's business was no longer limited to kidnapping, extortion, smuggling alcohol, or dealing drugs – those low-level trades.

Now, the majority of the Family/Clan's business was legitimate.

Just like this super cruise ship had the Family/Clan's investment. Although he was an illegitimate son, it was clear that the job his cheap old man arranged for him was quite good.

It was leisurely and comfortable, with a high salary, few tasks, and a fixed annual dividend.

Compared to his uncles and brothers who risked their lives fighting for business with local Drug Lords in Mexico and Colombia, he was already considered lucky.

But now that the cruise ship had an accident, given his cheap old man's face, he might not be overly blamed for this act of God.

However, a lucrative and leisurely job like the Costa Cruise Ship was out of the question.

If he had known, he would have listened to his old man's arrangement and gone to Turin to be the manager of the Continental Hotel.

The First Mate sighed, put his cleaned glasses back on, and looked at the Sea Surface. Suddenly, he took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and put them back on again.

He hadn't seen wrong. In the distance on the Sea Surface, a warship was sailing towards them.

On the Bridge (of a ship) of the warship, the Black General and William Stryker stood side by side, both looking towards the cruise ship through binoculars.

"General, it seems your experiment failed!"

William Stryker, looking through the binoculars at the dense crowd on the Deck, said to the Black General.

The military's so-called secret weapon couldn't even handle a civilian cruise ship; expecting it to deal with enemy warships was a joke.

The Black General's face was extremely grim. "Major Mond, check the locator on the wooden box."

Behind the Black General, a white Major Officer in a Navy uniform pulled out a tablet-like instrument.

After a few simple operations, the tablet displayed a constantly moving red dot.

"General, two hundred nautical miles from us, seven hundred meters underwater, the target is moving at high speed..."

"Keep a constant watch on its movements!" The Black General ordered, his face dark.

"Yes, sir!"

After saluting, the Major Officer tactfully stepped aside.

William Stryker held the binoculars, looking at the crowd on the Deck waving their hands. After watching for a long time, he couldn't find the target's figure.

Dead? Impossible!

William Stryker looked at the Black General beside him, and the two exchanged a tacit glance.

Ten minutes later, a torpedo accurately hit the bottom of the Costa Cruise Ship.

Boom...

The survivors on the Deck, who had been eagerly anticipating the warship, suddenly felt the cruise ship beneath their feet shake violently.

......

"Bang!"

The Restaurant door was violently pushed open, and a muscular man, naked from the waist up and covered in bloodstains, walked in, carrying a suitcase in one hand.

Under the panicked gaze of the Diners in the Restaurant, Sabretooth walked up to Magneto with the suitcase, placing it at his feet.

Sabretooth nodded towards Magneto, then turned and walked out of the Restaurant. As he walked, Sabretooth shook his neck, loosening his joints.

As he passed Hill, he twitched his nose and looked at Hill suspiciously. However, seeing Hill's panicked expression, Sabretooth shook his head and continued walking out of the Restaurant.

Magneto put down the knife and fork in his hand, looked at the suitcase at his feet, and slowly stood up.

"It seems there are a few little mice hiding on this ship!"

Clang, clang, clang!

The metal knives and forks near Magneto floated in the air under his control.

"Victor, find them!"

Sabretooth pushed the door open and left...

At this time, the startled Diners also left the Restaurant one after another.

Hill, mixed in with the crowd, had a look of anxiety flash across her face. She pressed the micro-communicator by her ear, eager to know Hawkeye's situation.

"I'm fine, just a slight injury to my arm,"

Inside an empty Room on the sixth floor of the passenger ship, Hawkeye gritted his teeth as he wrapped gauze around the wound on his arm.

"The mission failed, Hill. That tiger's healing ability is too freakish, it's practically an undying body! We need to call for backup now!"

"I'll contact the Director immediately, Hawkeye. Sabretooth is looking for you, be careful!"

Hill left the Restaurant, looked at Sabretooth's figure in the distance, and while talking to Hawkeye about the situation, walked in the opposite direction from Sabretooth.

......

Hiss, hiss!

The picture on the computer screen was intermittent, possibly due to energy interference or the effects of water pressure. The last image transmitted by the skeleton demon was the octopus tentacle it had parasitized being swallowed by an abyssal maw. The moment it was swallowed, the skeleton demon hid in the gaps between the monster fish's sharp teeth, transformed two bone claws, and grabbed onto the inner wall of the monster fish's mouth.

A blue electric current flashed, and then the computer screen in front of Tang Song went completely black.

Tang Song closed his notebook computer and walked out of the Private Room.

At this moment, the vast Restaurant was empty due to Sabretooth's appearance, except for Magneto and Tang Song.

Even the chef didn't know where he had hidden.

Magneto looked at Tang Song, who had just walked out of the Private Room, his eyes becoming somewhat strange.

"Hello, Mr. Erik, my surname is Tang. I'm an Arms Dealer. I didn't expect to meet the famous Magneto here!"

Tang Song walked up to Magneto and greeted him.

Magneto smiled. "Didn't we just meet at the Auction?"

Tang Song was slightly surprised. "The Auction? I did come from that ship. I didn't expect Mr. Erik to remember a small person like me, it's truly an honor!"

Magneto stared meaningfully into Tang Song's eyes. "You know why they call me Magneto? It's not because I can control metal, but because I can control magnetic fields!"

"Young man, my old friend told me that everyone's body emits its own magnetic field, like a fingerprint, unique!"

"So?!" Tang Song rubbed his nose, laughing without blushing or his heart skipping a beat. "It seems disguise, shapeshifters, and the like are useless in front of you!"

Magneto just quietly watched him.

......

A storm brewed at the Horizon's end. Dark, oppressive cumulonimbus clouds lowered the Firmament by several degrees. Fine, veil-like rain drifted down slowly, wetting the pale wings of the sea swallows.

A crimson helicopter flew from the distance, hovering in mid-air. Its propellers spun rapidly, stirring the fishy sea wind.

The helicopter hovered there silently, motionless, as if waiting for something.

Suddenly, the sea below parted.

Just like Moses parting the Red Sea with his staff in religious texts, ten thousand tons of seawater were pushed aside in a few breaths, and an enormous cylindrical Steel Platform slowly rose from the Sea Surface, like a Tower of Babel reaching towards the heavens.

The searchlights distributed along the edge of the Platform were so conspicuous in the dark night, guiding the helicopter in the sky.

In the center of the rust-free Steel Platform, an eagle design was spray-painted with silver permanent paint. That was the symbol of S.H.I.E.L.D., whose full name is the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.

Clearly, this was a S.H.I.E.L.D. Base.

"Director!"

Seeing Nick Fury step off the helicopter, Phil Coulson quickly went to meet him.

Nick Fury walked directly into the Base in a hurry.

"How much manpower can we mobilize currently?"

Inside the Base's office, Nick Fury looked at the Cargo Ship's coordinates displayed on the large screen and asked in a deep voice.

"Currently, there are two Special Operations Teams in the Base, but," Phil Coulson paused for a moment, "using them against A-level supernormal beings is probably insufficient."

S.H.I.E.L.D. has always been rooted between ordinary human society and the supernatural world, possessing extremely detailed databases on so-called superheroes and supervillains.

Generally speaking, S.H.I.E.L.D. internally classifies those with superpowers into the following tiers: D-level superpowered individuals have not yet escaped the limitations of a mortal body, their destructive capabilities are limited, and their defense against firearms is limited. Under the threat of light weapons firepower, they could face death at any time. Only a fully armed and equipped special forces, with a pre-arranged plan, is needed to suppress or even capture a D-level superpowered individual.

C-level supernormal beings already possess a certain level of threatening superpower and can, to some extent, dodge the threat of light infantry weapons firepower.

Several special ops teams working together, equipped with targeted weapons, are needed to capture them.

As for B-level supernormal beings, they can scale walls and leap across rooftops at will, shatter stone with a wave of their hand, and can directly penetrate the armor of a fourth-generation tank. Besides hard-shell artillery shells, they can easily dodge or even ignore the threat of small-caliber rifle bullets.

The final A-level supernormal beings are existences that cannot be contained by conventional military force. With minimal effort, they can destroy landmarks such as skyscrapers, giant statues, and bridges. They can even ignore large-caliber machine gun ammunition belts. Aside from ballistic missiles, the state apparatus has few means of containment.

This classification system for supernormal beings is not only circulated within S.H.I.E.L.D.; other national organizations also use it. These numerical levels indicate the degree of danger.

Magneto's rating within S.H.I.E.L.D. is A-level.

Nick Fury's face was grim. He knew Phil Coulson was right. The few Special Operations Teams S.H.I.E.L.D. had urgently mobilized were simply no match for Magneto.

But he couldn't abandon Hill and Hawkeye.

"Director, how about we contact Professor X?"

Phil Coulson, seeing Nick Fury's expression, suggested softly from the side.

Professor X, real name Charles Francis Xavier.

The founder of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, the leader of the X-Men, and one of the two poles of mutants along with Magneto.

If Magneto was the hardline hawk among mutants, then Professor X was the gentle dove.

However, compared to Magneto, Professor X was less liked.

Because his abilities were telepathy and mind control, and Professor X was also a recognized S-level supernormal being.

No one would like someone who could hear their thoughts and control them at any time, even if that person acted like a saint.

But as an agent, Nick Fury never hesitated to speculate about people's hearts with the most malicious thoughts.

Hearing Phil Coulson's suggestion, Nick Fury did not immediately respond. Instead, he took out a file and handed it to Coulson.

Asian, Stowaway, Gang Boss, Arms Tycoon, Unknown Superpowered Individual...

One file, over ten pages. Phil Coulson read it over and over for a long time.

"According to Agent Hill's report, this Tang Song is also on the ship. Coulson, find a way to contact him and see if he can help Hawkeye and the others! Contact the military and see if there are any warships or submarines nearby. If so, coordinate immediately!"

Unless absolutely necessary, Nick Fury really didn't want to find Professor X. Firstly, he was indeed wary of Professor X as a person. Secondly, he didn't want S.H.I.E.L.D. to get involved in the conflict between ordinary humans and mutants.

However, this feeling of powerlessness was truly difficult. Mutants, Supervillains, and more and more crises, not even knowing when those aliens would make a comeback.

Nick Fury subconsciously touched the old pager he kept close to his body inside his trench coat.

It was time to put the Avengers Initiative on the agenda!

......

At this moment, in the passenger ship's Restaurant, Magneto's mouth was wide open, as if he had swallowed a fly, as he looked at Tang Song.

Tang Song held a cigar in his hand and said to Magneto:

"Mr. Erik, you should know that the development of a group never relies on the strength of individuals. The current mutants are supported by you and Professor X. What if one day you are both gone?"

"Forgive me for being blunt, but you and Mr. Charles are both people who came through the cold war period. You should know that time spares no one!"

"If you and Professor X no longer shield mutants from the wind and rain, who do you think mutants can rely on?"

"We have an old saying in The East: Political power comes from the barrel of a gun. Compared to the varied mutant abilities, I think you and the members of your Brotherhood, besides that batch of AK rifles just now, need a batch of heavy weapons!"

"What do you think of this heavy artillery? Five artillery shells can destroy a Coastal Defense Fortress. Four million US Dollars per piece. I can be responsible for transporting it to the designated location for you."

(End of Chapter)