What do you mean by saying that the corpses I sew are all ominous creatures?

Countless huge searchlights illuminated the place in minute detail.

Below the gangway, a dense array of vehicles with flashing red and blue police lights were parked.

Police cars, fire trucks, ambulances, and even several black riot control armored vehicles.

Fully armed special police set up a long cordon, completely surrounding the plane.

A large number of medical staff in white coats were on standby, pushing stretchers.

The power of the authorities demonstrated its overwhelming efficiency at this moment.

Soon, the hatch was opened from the outside.

Several heavily armed special police officers rushed in first, their expressions stern and their eyes scanning the cabin intently.

Immediately afterwards, the voice of the ground control center came over the airport's public address system.

All passengers were asked to remain seated, remain calm, and disembark in batches as instructed by the flight attendants, and to undergo a comprehensive "medical examination" and "psychological counseling".

I know very well that these so-called "medical examinations" and "psychological counseling" are actually large-scale screenings and signing confidentiality agreements.

What happened tonight was too bizarre, especially the marks on the cockpit door that were torn apart by bare hands. The general public must not know about this.

The authorities must minimize the impact and characterize the incident as a "serious mechanical failure accompanied by strong airflow".

Passengers, guided by flight attendants and special police, began to line up and slowly descend the gangway.

After disembarking from the plane, each person is immediately taken over by medical staff and put on a bus to be taken away.

Li Qing and I didn't move; we remained seated in first class.

Through the porthole, I saw two completely black SUVs with no markings parked in an inconspicuous shadow outside the flashing police cars and ambulances.

The car door opened, and four men dressed in plain black clothes got out.

People from the Folklore Bureau.

After showing their identification, the four people crossed the special police cordon without being stopped.

They followed the gangway against the flow of disembarking passengers and quickly entered the cabin.

The leader was a middle-aged man with a buzz cut.

He walked into first class and his gaze immediately locked onto me and Li Qing.

Upon seeing me, he immediately stood at attention and saluted: "Advisor Chen, Mr. Li."

I am Zhao Gang, the team leader of the first action team of the Jiangcheng branch of the Folklore Bureau.

"On Director Lu's orders, we're here to take you back."

I nodded, picked up the backpack containing the evil crystal and the snake egg, and stood up: "Thank you for your hard work."

Then, Zhao Gang made a hand gesture to his three subordinates behind him.

"Go, bring the two pilots in, and the co-pilot on a safety stretcher. Be quick, and don't attract the attention of those people outside."

Clearly, Lu Yan already knew about the situation in the passenger seat.

The three special agents immediately sprang into action.

The two men entered the cockpit and helped the still-shaken captain out.

The other person took out a black isolation stretcher and carefully placed the unconscious passenger into it.

The whole process took less than three minutes and produced no extra noise.

"Gentlemen, please follow me." Zhao Gang turned and led the way.

Instead of using the regular passenger lane, we followed Zhao Gang and went directly down to the edge of the tarmac via a service lane at the rear of the plane.

Avoiding the noisy crowds and glaring spotlights, we quickly climbed into the two black SUVs.

Li Qing, Zhao Gang, and I sat in the front car, while the captain and co-pilot were assigned to the back car.

The vehicle started and silently drove away from the airport, merging into the rolling traffic of Jiangcheng in the dead of night.

The atmosphere in the carriage was somewhat silent.

Li Qing slumped in the back seat, took out a cigarette from his pocket, and lit it with a "snap".

"Captain Zhao, where is Director Lu now? What's the situation at the station?"

I sat in the passenger seat, watching the streetlights rushing past the window, and broke the silence by speaking.

Zhao Gang gripped the steering wheel firmly with both hands, his eyes fixed straight ahead:

"Director Lu is waiting for you in the branch office's underground command center."

I'm too low-level to know the specifics.

But as far as I know, the higher-ups are furious about what happened tonight.

Headquarters has dispatched a specialist to Jiangcheng overnight.

He paused, glanced at me through the rearview mirror, and his tone held a subtle hint of respect:

"Advisor Chen, thank goodness you were on the plane, otherwise..."

Hearing Zhao Gang's hesitant words, I leaned back in my seat and said, "It's nothing. If we can't save that pilot, I'll die anyway."

After I finished speaking, I closed my eyes to rest.

Silence fell over the carriage once again.

About twenty minutes later, the car slowly drove into the Jiangcheng branch of the police station.

Zhao Gang got out of the car first and opened the door for us.

"Consultant Chen, Mr. Li, please. Director Lu is waiting for you."

I picked up my backpack and exchanged a glance with Li Qing.

Li Qing had recovered by now, and was rubbing his slightly bluish dark circles under his eyes with a frustrated expression, muttering to himself:

"It's the middle of the night, and they won't even give us a hot meal. This job at the Folklore Bureau is getting harder and harder."

I ignored his complaints and followed Zhao Gang into the elevator.

The elevator did not go up, but instead plummeted downwards.

As the numbers on the display screen kept changing, they finally stopped on the third basement level.

The elevator doors opened, revealing a highly technological underground space.

The white light was cold and even, and uniformed agents walked hurriedly through the corridor.

This is the core of the Jiangcheng Folk Customs Bureau—the underground command center.

Zhao Gang led us through several heavy blast doors, finally stopping in front of a door with a sign that read "Command Room".

He knocked gently on the door, and after hearing a "Come in" from inside, he pushed the door open and gestured for us to enter.

Inside the office, Lu Yan was standing in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window.

The view outside the window isn't scenery, but a holographic projection that monitors the flow of folk customs throughout the entire city in real time.

She was still wearing that well-tailored black uniform, her long hair tied in a neat ponytail, and her profile looked particularly aloof in the cold light.

She turned around after hearing the door open.

"Please sit down."

Lu Yan pointed to the sofa, then turned to Zhao Gang and instructed, "Go and get them some food, and prepare two cups of hot tea."

Furthermore, notify the medical team to monitor the two pilots closely, and no one is allowed to contact them without my permission.

"Yes!" Zhao Gang acknowledged the order and left, closing the door behind him.

There were only the three of us left in the office.

Li Qing plopped down on the sofa, slumping over: "Director Lu, you've finally brought us back."

You have no idea, just now at 10,000 meters altitude, that plane almost became our iron coffin.

Old Chen was really going all out; he tore the bulletproof door apart like it was made of paper. I was afraid he'd rip the plane's wing off the next second.