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

Chapter 95 The Deadly Situation Begins

"Plan a perfect success." Jon walked out and high-fived Coulson. "How's my brilliant idea? Impressed, Phil?"

"I'm impressed, not bad plan." Coulson breathed a sigh of relief. "I almost burst out laughing when Ross was yelling at me just now."

"Although I hate to admit it, your clever ideas do work in certain situations."

"Just one situation? Are you sure?" Just as the two were about to argue about one situation, a voice came from behind.

"What plan?" Steve walked over with a stern face, arms crossed. "Could you two tell me about it?"

"Captain..." Coulson immediately pointed at Jon, betraying him, "That's what he said, not me."

"Phil, you've just sold me out like that?" Jon looked helplessly at the serious Steve. "Captain, how about we talk somewhere else?"

"Like that Quinjet behind me? What do you think?"

No sooner had they finished speaking than a Quinjet fighter jet hovered over the road behind them.

And so, Captain America, who had only been awake for a few days, was half-coaxed and half-tricked onto the plane by Jon.

Inside the cabin, Blade was wiping his silver blade, and the oppressive aura emanating from him kept Garrett of the She-Bull from getting close.

As silence fell over the cabin, the hatch suddenly opened, and Daofeng looked up sharply, his eyes gleaming behind his sunglasses.

next second.

Jon Snow boarded the plane with Coulson and Steve, and their eyes met. His eyes lit up as well.

"JOJO." Blade stood up and went to greet Jon. "Long time no see."

"Eric." Jon bumped shoulders with him, and as they shook hands, they raised their eyebrows in unison. "How's New York been lately?"

""

"This eerie silence has left me with nothing to do." Blade loosened his grip and asked directly, "What's with the photos you sent me?"

"What photo?" Jon looked blank, clearly having forgotten. "When was it?"

"This is it." Blade flashed his phone screen, pulling up a photo. "A fiery skeleton riding a flaming warhorse, plus a selfie of yours, remember?"

"Ah... this, oh my god." Jon covered his face in pain and said in embarrassment, "Just pretend I had a fit of madness that night."

"So it's real, this photo." Blade stared at his expression, his tense look turning somewhat disillusioned. "A burning skull."

To avoid this awkward situation, Jon quickly changed the subject, asking, "By the way, how did you become a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent?"

Blade curled his lip and said disdainfully, "A long time ago, a black ball approached me, but I didn't agree at the time. Now I'm just bored and have nothing to do, so I'm here to play around."

"Understood."

Jon patted him on the shoulder and turned to introduce the two people behind him.

"This is Phil Coulson, a Level 8 Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D." Jon stepped aside to make way for the captain. "And this one—he's someone important."

"He's Steve Rogers..." Blade's eyes narrowed, his expression stiffened, and he muttered to himself, "Incredible, a living Steve Rogers!"

"I am indeed Steve Rogers." The captain stepped forward, extended his hand, and smiled slightly. "It seems you recognize me?"

"Of course, Captain." Blade grasped his hand, forcing a smile. "Everyone here knows you."

On the other side, Garrett approached Coulson, since the two were old comrades-in-arms, so they quickly started chatting.

"Looks like this mission isn't going to be easy, Phil." Garrett sat down and fastened his seatbelt. "Even the advisors and Blade Soldiers have been deployed."

"And that guy, if I heard correctly, he's Captain America, right?"

"Yes, I am the captain, but this is work."

Coulson smiled, as gentle as ever, but a hint of scrutiny lurked in his eyes.

Jon's words had planted a seed of doubt in his heart, and although he was still not entirely convinced, he couldn't help but have doubts.

I have doubts about this old friend I've known for over twenty years.

"John, Fury's been keeping me in suspense; I don't know the details of the mission." He countered with a pointed question, "Did he tell you anything?"

"No," Garrett shrugged. "But I brought three men with me specifically for this mission."

"You're still so cautious." Coulson knew what was going on when he heard that Coulson didn't know the details of the mission.

Coulson's gaze swept over the three agents; years of experience told him that these were elites.

"They look good."

"Indeed—" Garrett hadn't finished speaking when Melinda May's voice came over the intercom: "Gentlemen, fasten your seatbelts, we are preparing for takeoff."

Jon and Blade exchanged a glance, then silently sat down separately, separating the three elite soldiers.

Although Steve didn't understand why, he followed Blade's example and sat down next to an agent.

The plane gradually took off amidst turbulence.

Jon Snow, sitting opposite Garrett, closed his eyes to rest so that Garrett wouldn't notice anything amiss.

The latter was boasting to his subordinates about his past heroic deeds.

These stories are almost all exaggerated adaptations and fabricated resumes; only the words of the people involved are truly authentic.

But Jon knew that these were just preludes; Garrett's real purpose was yet to come.

Sure enough, not long after, Garrett changed the subject and looked at Coulson: "By the way, Phil, a new file about Clairvoyance appeared in the Level 8 access database yesterday. Did you upload it?"

"Yes," Coulson nodded, already knowing full well, and smiled, "That guy is a tough opponent."

He briefly recounted how he discovered the Clairvoyant, capturing Garrett's attention, while Jon secretly observed Garrett's reaction.

Through his probing, Jon confirmed one thing: the Level 8 agent couldn't see his Star Platinum.

Clearly, this elite among elites lacked sufficient mental strength.

But strangely, the feedback from the ripples showed that his physical condition was quite good, which was not right.

Just as Jon was pondering, Coulson mentioned Ellie, while Garrett remained calm.

But when he heard that Qianliyan was a middle-aged man, his pupils suddenly contracted.

Although it only lasted for a moment, it was still captured by Star Platinum.

I was right, it's this guy.

As Jon opened his eyes, the atmosphere in the cabin gradually became tense.

Even if Garrett were slow to notice, he would have sensed the unusual atmosphere in the current situation.

He looked up, his gaze shifting between Coulson and Jon, his voice growing colder with his expression: "So... Fury's operation was aimed at me?"

"Yes." Coulson took a deep breath, his voice low. "John, I'm sorry... but that's really how it is."

"You're insane! You're absolutely insane!" Garrett stood up agitatedly, looking at Coulson. "Phil! We joined S.H.I.E.L.D. together!"

"We've known each other for over twenty years, and we studied together under Fury."

His expression was almost one of grief and indignation, and he even imitated the tactical movements of that year.

"Check the corners, pay attention to up and down, that's what Fury taught us, remember?"

Upon seeing this, Coulson's gaze wavered for a moment before hardening again.

But to Jon, these words of indignation were full of theatrics and were clumsy.

"Heh." A red light flashed in Jon's scarlet eyes—it was killing intent.

Just as Garrett was putting on a dramatic performance to buy time, his hand quietly slid towards his waist, where Garrett's sidearm was located. He was just a hair's breadth away from touching it... Suddenly.

Jon raised his head dismissively, looking at him coldly with a cat-and-mouse attitude, and said indifferently, "Star Platinum."

"We've known each other for a long time, Fei—"

'

"Aaaaaaah—!!!!"

A heart-wrenching scream suddenly echoed throughout the cabin, and Garrett clutched his fingers in pain.

Just as Garrett's fingertips were about to touch the gun handle, a thick, purple arm suddenly clamped down on his fingers and twisted them sharply!

"What the hell is this?!" Garrett's face contorted, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

His fingers were broken at an odd angle by something.

On the other side, Blade had already begun his operation, instantly taking down two agents with a single blow from both sides.

Just as the last man raised his gun—preparing to empty Jon's magazine—

boom!

A heavy punch slammed into his face, sending him flying several meters.

Everyone turned their heads in unison to look at Steve, who was slowly retracting his fist.

"What?" Captain America shrugged and spread his hands. "I get it. They're catching the mole, right?"

""

"I may be old-fashioned, but I'm not stupid. Please don't look at me like that, okay?"

Speechless, the crowd could only turn their attention back to Garrett, who was curled up on the ground clutching his hand.

Jon stomped on his chest, his voice full of mockery, his eyes fierce.

"Now, I'll only ask you once—John Garrett, you are the all-seeing eye, aren't you?"

Garrett trembled with fear, his back soaked with sweat from his agent uniform.

He didn't answer, but his silence was the clearest answer.