American comic: I, JoJo, am going to heaven!

Chapter 77 Rescuing People from "Fire and Water"

Not far from the Hammer Base.

In a vast desert oasis, there is a runway with a propeller plane parked on it.

It looks like something from the last century, but it's very well preserved.

"Are we really going to drive this back to New York? Are you sure?"

Coulson stared at the old plane, his voice trembling slightly.

"I must be crazy! To come and go on this adventure with you!"

"Relax." Jon patted the fuselage, his tone eager. "My skills are top-notch."

"I once learned to fly a propeller plane from an old man in Hawaii. He was absolutely professional."

"You learned it from an old man?" Coulson's eyes widened. "No, no, this is making me even more panicked!"

Jon walked over, patted Coulson on the shoulder, and comforted him, "The old man who taught me flew four times in his life and crashed three of them. He's very experienced."

"So even if the plane really crashes, I can save you, Phil. You can rest assured."

"Don't worry... I'm totally relieved!"

Coulson broke out in a cold sweat, slapped Jon's arm away, and said, "To survive falling three times out of four attempts, I doubt you'd find another like it in the world."

"That's why I called him an expert," Jon said, slapping a check at the merchant's face. "Now the plane is ours?"

"Of course, of course!" the merchant said obsequiously, rubbing his hands together. "You are truly dignified, but that plane... and..."

It seems this merchant wants Jon to bleed some money, but he's not buying it!

"Now that the plane is mine, it's none of your business. Get lost."

Jon shoved the other person away with a look of disgust.

He utterly despised that groveling, fawning attitude.

Especially this merchant in front of me, he's like a lapdog constantly sticking out its tongue to please him, utterly devoid of human dignity.

Disgusting! Absolutely disgusting!

Jon wiped his hands vigorously in disgust, grabbed two goggles, and tossed one to Coulson.

"Ready to go, Phil."

"I must have been completely out of my mind," Coulson said despairingly as he put on his goggles. "Is it too late for me to back out?"

"It's too late, let's go."

The two men got into the cockpit one after the other, fastened their seatbelts, and adjusted themselves.

The propeller plane beneath me features a pilot and co-pilot design, allowing for easy handover of control, which is quite user-friendly.

"Hold on tight?" Jon gripped the joystick, his voice trembling slightly with excitement. "Did you hear me, Phil?"

After all, this was his first time actually piloting a plane. If it were before, that old man wouldn't even let him touch the control stick.

"Sit...sit tight." Coulson gripped the joystick tightly, his knuckles white. "Honestly, I'm a little nervous."

If Coulson hadn't been unable to refuse Jon, he would have run away long ago!

"It's normal to be nervous! Everyone feels this way the first time!" Jon turned and grinned, patting his chest vigorously. "Just trust my skills!"

"By the way, Phil," he suddenly paused, then asked, "how do you start this thing again?"

"Wait—" Coulson jerked his hand to unbuckle his seatbelt. "I need to get off! Now! Immediately!"

"Haha, it's too late! I've figured it out!"

The engine suddenly roared deafeningly, the fuselage vibrated incessantly, and the propellers kicked up clouds of yellow sand.

"Damn it!" Coulson pressed himself against the seat, his hands gripping the joystick tightly, fearing a real problem might occur.

The plane began to accelerate, faster and faster, at that moment!

"See that!" Jon shouted excitedly as he turned around. "See that now!"

"How about that? My skills are amazing, right?"

"You bastard! Look ahead!" Coulson's voice cracked. "There's a damn tree over there!"

"What? Oh no!" Jon turned around and looked back.

Suddenly, at the end of the runway, a crooked tree appeared for some reason, blocking the flight path.

Jon swore he hadn’t seen the tree at all, but the facts were right in front of him. Could it be that the thing grew legs and ran there on its own?

It's too late to push it up now. At this rate, we're definitely going to crash into something. Oh no!

"Damn it!" Jon yelled, frantically pounding on the dashboard. "How does this piece of junk brake?!"

"Let me do it! Jon! Let go of your joystick!"

As he spoke, Coulson decisively snatched control of the aircraft.

It's time for him, an eighth-level special agent, to take over the situation on site!

"I fucking let go a long time ago!" Jon released his hands.

"Listen, I'm professionally trained!"

Coulson tensed his jaw and began a dazzling series of maneuvers, but three seconds later, the plane still hurtled straight toward the tree.

"Uh..." Seeing that things were not going well, the smile on his face froze, and he said, "Jon."

"Huh?" Jon turned around and met Coulson's ashen face.

"It seems... it's still not working."

"What?! Aaaaaaah!"

A moment later, two disheveled men sat on the sand, staring blankly at the burning wreckage of the plane before them.

Just at the last moment, Jon Snow used time stop to save Coulson and himself from danger.

As for why they were in such dire straits, that's not something I can elaborate on.

"I really am a vehicle killer..." Jon irritably grabbed a handful of sand and threw it into the air. "Damn fate!"

Looking back now, I realize how strange that was.

Even though every operation was performed correctly, the plane still inexplicably malfunctioned.

Add that tree.

It seems he not only inherited the old man's Ripple, but also that damned talent for vehicle assassination.

In fact, he had been holding onto a sliver of hope for the past few days, since who would want to believe such a tragic scenario?

You have to understand that this is modern society; without a vehicle, it's practically impossible to move an inch.

So he made a simple attempt and even pulled Coulson along to join him.

But now?

Now, looking at the burning wreckage before him, Jon had no choice but to believe it, alas.

Thinking back carefully, it seems that since he came into this world, none of the cars he rode in had ever met a good end:

the first time.

Pepper picked him up from the police station in his Maybach, but that night they encountered vampires who robbed them, and the car crashed into a fence.

the second time.

Tony repaired the Maybach and gave it to him, then Coulson took it on a Fast and Furious adventure, and it was totaled.

the third time.

Fury gave him his modified Chevrolet, but a few days later he encountered Ghost Rider and was blown into the air.

Even the propeller plane he just bought to prove he wasn't a vehicle killer has crashed.

Jon Snow looked up in anguish, taking deep breaths. He was now forced to confront this cruel reality.

Seeing Jon's pained expression, Coulson didn't let him off the hook either.

"Jon..." Coulson brushed the sand off his clothes and pleaded, "Promise me, we won't touch any vehicles anymore, okay?"

"Okay, no problem." Jon put on the Pain Mask, stood up, and gritted his teeth. "I swear I'll never touch these rotten things again."

"Especially the steering wheel!" Coulson stood up as well. "I've discovered that as long as you don't touch the steering wheel, you'll be fine. That's the key."

"There's one more thing. I knew we were going to crash, but luckily I had a Plan B ready."

So, under Jon's puzzled gaze, Coulson casually snapped his fingers.

With a twist in the air, a stealth Quinjet slowly materialized before the two men.

"Look!" Coulson spread his arms wide, the wind blowing his hair into a mess. "Now that's what you call professional preparation."

"Well done, Agent Coulson."

Jon's eyes lit up, he patted him on the shoulder, and walked straight toward the fighter jet.

"Plan B went very well, thank you."

"Wait..." Coulson suddenly realized what he was doing and hurriedly followed. "Did you just take advantage of me?"

"Goodbye, Jon Yovik," Coulson waved from the cabin door at the New York airport. "See you next time!"

"See you later." Jon, carrying his luggage, stepped out of the stealth fighter.

"See you later." Coulson waved his hand, then quickly shouted, "Hurry up and fly the plane, or something might happen!"

'

"quick!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the Quinjet behind him closed its hatch and took off impatiently, the swirling air ruffling Jon's clothes.

"Oh? Is it urgent?" Jon pursed his lips and walked towards the waiting area.

A moment later, in the waiting area, Jon stood there, stroking his chin.

He stared at the terminal's massive glass dome, his expression shifting between light and shadow.

Because the position was maintained for so long, the ground staff hesitated whether to go up and ask.

But after the staff member took three steps closer, he was suddenly deterred by the chill emanating from Jon and ultimately chose to take a detour.

Suddenly, a piercing alarm sounded.

All the security personnel rushed to the security checkpoint, and Jon's gaze followed.

Three security guards were seen groping a bearded man.

The man was muscular and wore a leather jacket; he looked utterly destitute and melancholic.

But no matter how they searched, they couldn't find even a metal button on the guy.

"God, this is fucking annoying!"

The bearded man scratched his head in frustration, and when he looked up, his eyes met Jon's.

"Hmm? That look in your eyes..."

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