Marvel Saiyans - Chapter 69
Broly hovered in the air, circled the entire base, flew out along the dirt road for a while, and then landed. He scratched his head, having found nothing.
The Ten Rings had survived in Afghanistan’s chaotic terrain by mastering guerrilla warfare. Despite their hurried departure, they left no traces behind.
Even if there were subtle clues, Broly, an amateur, wouldn’t find them.
Stretching lazily, Broly decided to explore the nearby mountains. He activated his sensing ability and chose a direction with hundreds of life forces gathered, strolling leisurely.
He intended to reveal his identity to complete his mission of killing himself and making some easy money. Once Tony Stark was freed by Fire Cloud Evil God, he’d figure out a way to eliminate him and collect a reward from the Continental Hotel.
Pashtun villages in remote mountain areas were very primitive and lacked modern technology. The houses were built with dried mud bricks, poorly ventilated, and filled with the persistent smells of urine and animal dung.
The lower levels of the houses housed chickens and goats. Families crammed together on straw, sleeping alongside their livestock.
These villages relied on herding and farming to survive. The fields outside were planted with wheat and cotton. Due to outdated farming methods and insufficient rainfall, the land often yielded poor harvests, barely enough to sustain the villagers.
Adults worked in the fields.
A dirty boy, looking like he’d rolled in mud, was herding sheep on a hillside. Wool and cotton were the village’s only tradable commodities, making each sheep extremely valuable.
The hillside still bore craters from exploded bombs.
Children were collecting cow dung, a daily chore, which they dried on the walls to use as fuel for cooking. They also fetched water, cut grass, and cared for younger siblings, rarely having free time. Only during the hottest part of the day could they play in the cool water of the village canal.
The village chief’s house had a radio, the only electrical appliance in the village. After dinner, everyone would gather to listen to the BBC Pashto broadcast, often playing Indian music, which they all enjoyed.
When Broly appeared by the canal, all the playing children screamed and ran back to the village.
Men working in the fields grabbed their rifles and ran toward the children. The village’s independence from the Taliban and Ten Rings was due to their poverty and unity.
The village chief stopped the villagers. He recognized Broly’s unusual outfit from the flyers distributed by the U.S. military, knowing he was not someone they could confront. Instead of letting Broly into the village, he instructed the villagers to slaughter a sheep and prepare a rich lunch, hoping Broly would leave after eating.
Pashtun women worked quickly, preparing the best dishes the village could offer, including sheep’s milk kebabs, naan, sabzi, and pilaf.
The sheep’s milk was very gamey, the kebabs were made from freshly slaughtered lamb skewered with tomatoes and grilled over coals to be dipped in saltwater for flavor. Sabzi was a stew of overcooked vegetables with a poor taste, which even Broly only took a bite of. The pilaf, a rice dish with lamb, onions, and carrots, was decent.
Seeing the children eyeing the food eagerly, Broly gave them the remaining kebabs, prompting cheers.
“Do you know the whereabouts of the Ten Rings?”
He asked the village chief.
The chief shook his head, remaining silent, signaling that Broly should leave after eating.
Broly took out a fifty-dollar bill, handed it to the chief, and turned to leave.
“The surrounding villages have received American warrants. Some have Taliban and Ten Rings members among them. You should head south,” the chief suddenly advised.
Broly didn’t change direction, continuing along the mountain path.
He spent three days traveling by day and camping at night, practicing the Nine-Turn True Martial Art. During this time, he passed through four Pashtun villages.
Some villages watched him leave from behind their walls, others pretended to be hospitable but secretly poisoned his food, and some tried to capture him for the American bounty.
Broly killed many people along the way until he finally received a call from Matt.
“Hello, Broly? We’ve found traces of Catman and are tracking him. Once you’re healed, come to Kandahar and meet me.”
Matt contacted Broly as soon as he received the news.
“The boss is still healing in the medical pod. I’ll inform him when he’s out,” Cade in the U.S. answered the call and immediately notified Broly.
“Got it.”
Broly turned off his phone and stared at the huge hovering ship before him. The ancient-looking ship had orchards and an open-air bath on top, massive and clearly not a human technology product.
A figure leaped down from the ship, landing lightly before Broly.
“Catman, we meet again.”
It was Nie Zheng.
“I’m not Catman, I’m Batman!”
Broly replied indignantly, pointing to the large bat symbol on his chest to emphasize.
Nie Zheng looked awkward, unsure how to respond to Broly’s correction.
“Uh, the Americans have discovered your location. In a few days, a master named Broly will come to deal with you. Why not join us and avoid the danger?”
He quickly changed the topic.
Broly was puzzled, wondering how Nie Zheng had learned this, as it coincided with Matt’s information.
“Who are you?”
“We’re the Divine Spear Bureau, here in Afghanistan for the same reason as you—to deal with the Ten Rings. How about we cooperate?”
Nie Zheng explained.
“Alright.”
Broly nodded, finding it interesting to explore the strange ship.
“Forgive me.”
Nie Zheng placed a hand on Broly’s shoulder, leaped into the air, and flew back to the ship. Once they were aboard, the Nuwa Star Ferry shook slightly and rapidly ascended, reaching over ten thousand meters in a few seconds.
A Global Hawk drone tried to escape, but a brilliant sword aura from the deck sliced it in half.
Bu Qingyun sheathed her sword, gave Broly a cold glance, and continued meditating on the deck. She had acted at Zhuo Bufan’s request to intimidate the unknown Catman.
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