C2 Knock

"Why is this guy grinning more than us?" Ivar and his classmates walked away, puzzled.

Once they confirmed everyone was back on the plane, they shut the door, and a flurry of activity ensued. Egil, smiling warmly, offered his assistance.

Egil inquired, "So, what's your next move?"

"Do we even need to ask? We'll report it, of course! Such an incredible discovery has to be shared with the entire world!" Ivar exclaimed.

Egil chuckled, "Haha, yes, the whole world should know. I'll help you tune in the frequency so you can report it right away. Haha."

As the initial thrill faded, fatigue set in, and a hush fell over the group.

The seasoned professor headed to the cockpit, where Egil had already set up the satellite communication.

Ivar resumed his courtship of Becky.

Becky played hard to get, skillfully reeling him in. The female classmates giggled while the male classmates egged them on.

Joy permeated the team's spirit.

Laugh on, laugh on!

Let's see if you can still laugh when the time comes.

The plane touched down on the marble street, leaving a noticeable trace!

Curiously, Egil observed identical marks all over the street!

What could this imply?

Clearly, this marble street was nothing less than a makeshift runway! It had seen countless landings and visitors.

Others had already beaten them to the punch!

Here were these folks, braving the winter dangers for a discovery already made by others, and their excitement was laughable!

Thud, thud, thud – what was that noise?

Thud, thud, thud – it came from the closed cabin door.

Thud, thud, thud – it sounded just like knocking.

Knocking in the North Pole?

Knocking amidst a North Pole blizzard?

They had verified that all were aboard, yet now there was knocking from outside!

The students wore looks of terror.

Egil pondered briefly, then with a laugh, he yanked open the cabin door.

Outside, the blizzard had ceased. No snowflakes entered, but a multitude of lights twinkled.

The lights were in pairs, the beams of snowmobile headlights.

So many lights, so many snowmobiles, so many people!

Nearly a hundred people surrounded Egil's plane, clad in white arctic gear and brandishing black special assault rifles.

The leader, the same person who had knocked earlier, pulled down his mask and announced, "This is private property. If you're here on vacation, please leave! If you're in distress, we can offer assistance!"

His words left the cabin deathly quiet. The students were struck dumb.

Egil was astounded. It was like watching dozens of pigs gasping for air in collective hypoxia.

"No!" The first to protest was Ivar. "There's been a mistake! Something's not right! How can this be private property? Impossible!"

The Rapper informed them, "Martina has owned this deserted island for five years. You can verify the records with the relevant authorities in Vrimen."

Ivar's eyes bulged, his face turned beet red, but he was speechless.

"No!" The second to react was the old professor, who had just emerged from the cockpit to be greeted by this terrible news: "We've been beaten to it! Someone got here first!"

"Professor, calm down, watch your blood pressure," urged Becky, the third to regain her composure. She steadied the old professor and countered, "This can't be right. How can this be a deserted island? There are prehistoric remains here. According to international law, remains discovered in international waters cannot be privately owned. Your claim to this island is illegal!"

The Rapper corrected her, "Remains? Oh, you mean those structures! They're not ancient ruins; they're a replica of an ancient site completed just this year..."

"A replica! Finished this year! Ahhh!" At last, all the students grasped the situation, erupting into a chorus of screams.

"Ah!" The old professor let out a shrill cry as his blood vessels burst, and he collapsed.

"Ahhh! No!"

"Ahhh! The blizzard is too fierce, our research time too brief. I knew something was off."

"Ahhh! Professor, you didn't inform our homeland about the discovery of the remains, did you...?"

"What? You've already reported it? The whole country knows? Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhh!"

The scene descended into utter chaos, like a pig farm ablaze.

Egil couldn't help but burst into laughter, "Pfft, hahahahahahaha …"

After the pandemonium, the students made a very Vriudronian decision. They preferred to risk an immediate return flight over accepting help and enduring the whispers and mockery. But Egil was not keen on flying twice in one day due to pilot fatigue. So he proposed that since the professor had fainted, it would be best to stay and rest for the day.

The students once again made a choice that reflected the Vriudronian spirit of respecting their teachers. They reconsidered their decision and chose to stay.

Regrettably, at that moment, the old professor regained consciousness and fervently exclaimed, "Go back, go back, we can't afford to lose face."

Feeling resigned, Egil lazily made his way toward the cockpit.

The sound of a gun's safety being released! Egil quickly dodged! Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat... The bullets weren't aimed at him but were instead fired into the cockpit beside him!

Screams from the female students mingled with the crackling of electricity and the sound of instruments exploding.

The gunfire ceased, the cabin lights flickered twice, and then darkness fell as the power went out.

The Rapper, with his gun still smoking, said apologetically, "Sorry, it looks like your plane is malfunctioning. You should accept our help."

From the moment the Rapper disengaged the safety to when he shattered the cockpit, Egil had forfeited three opportunities – three chances to take him out unscathed. But even if he had eliminated the Rapper and the dozens outside, Egil wouldn't have been able to leave alive. This was the Arctic, after all. If they simply closed the door, with the plane already compromised, Egil and his classmates would freeze to death in less than an hour.

Realizing the other party held all the cards, there was no point in further discussion.

The students silently donned their arctic gear and, surrounded, climbed aboard the snowmobiles. Some of the girls, terrified, couldn't stop their tears.

Amidst the roar of the snowmobile engines, Egil placed his hands behind his head and nonchalantly began to snore. It was clear that the situation was more complex than a mere blunder by the research team.

With their Nordic features and rolled Rs, were these foreign powers at play?

Considering the involvement of foreign forces... this group of Vriudronian students was, after all, part of a Vriudronian research team. I, Egil, must find a way to ensure their safe return home.

Even as a retired soldier, I remain a Vriudronian soldier. Even if I've faced military court, I am still a Vriudronian soldier. Even if I stand alone, there is still one Vriudronian soldier here.

As the snowmobile decelerated, Egil opened his eyes. Ahead, a snow mound seemed to yawn open, unveiling a descending pathway. The setup, complete with a toll booth at a crossbeam, gave off the distinct impression of an underground parking garage.