Ambling towards the boarding gate for Flight 753, the passengers had all arrived, and staff had already begun closing the entryway.
"Apologies, this is the boarding gate for a charter flight. Could you please confirm your specific flight?" the service personnel stated courteously.
Glancing again at the sign on the entryway: "This is Flight 753, correct? Then there's no mistake."
"But this flight is exclusively for Japanese guests. You..."
"I am aware, hence my presence here." He passed through the metal detector nonchalantly, triggering a clamorous alarm.
"Could you please confirm? Flight 753 is about to depart," the service personnel called for security.
"Is that so? Then there's no time to waste!" The young man dashed through the gate. Surrounding passengers noticed the commotion.
Two towering security guards blocked his path. The young man was compelled to halt.
"Please accompany us to the security office." The guards obstructed him, still maintaining politeness.
"Sigh..." The young man sighed, seemingly vexed at being apprehended, but truthfully, merely reluctant to harm uninvolved individuals.
"This way." One placed a hand on the young man's shoulder, imperceptibly increasing the pressure, warning him against any rash actions. Yet, the young man's body remained utterly unmoved. His colleague beside him detected the anomaly, similarly placing a hand on the other shoulder, eliciting the same reaction.
With a sudden exertion of force, the two colossal guards tumbled to the ground.
Oblivious to the astonished gazes nearby, the young man entered the corridor, locking the main door from within.
By the time the young man sprinted to the exit, the flight attendant realized the gravity of the situation and swiftly activated the alarm.
Gazing upon the expansive runway, over ten aircraft were taxiing back and forth. Fortunately, the tail of Flight 753 brazenly displayed the Japanese flag, making it easily identifiable. 13 ran towards the aircraft's direction.
Flight 753 was, in fact, an aircraft specially arranged by the Japanese government. To guarantee the safety of the magnates, over ten national-level bodyguards were specifically assigned to ensure their security during boarding in China. Constrained by Chinese constitutional law prohibiting the carrying of firearms into the country, all selected were experts in close-quarters combat.
With all personnel on the list accounted for, the bodyguards breathed a sigh of relief; the mission was essentially accomplished. Although merely a routine pickup, being on enemy territory warranted caution and prudence.
Those already ascending the boarding stairs suddenly noticed a young man sprinting towards them.
Vigilance alerted the highly trained bodyguards to a perilous aura; they descended to the ground en masse, blocking the entrance to the aircraft.
"Who are you?" The leader appeared quite refined, inconsistent with the typical Japanese demeanor. He spoke standard Mandarin, his grave words conveying basic courtesy.
"I need to board the plane, step aside!" The young man had no intention of being polite; he observed that everyone's fists were already clenched – dialogue was futile. A soldier's distinct intuition: when dealing with combat entities, only strength serves as the true bridge for communication.
"This is a charter flight; non-designated passengers are prohibited from boarding." The leader was indeed courteous, yet his right hand was already positioned behind his back. Just as 13 intuited, conversation was incapable of bridging the gap.
"Then let's add a spot! My name is Zhang Jie..." Before he could finish, the leader withdrew a metal baton, striking towards the young man's head with considerable force, showing no sign of restraint. If it connected, even if not incapacitating, it would inflict severe injury.
"Japanese are Japanese indeed; treachery is your tradition, shamelessness your virtue." 13, having declared his identity, stared at the stupefied "refined" man. "And frailty is your common ailment."
His left hand firmly gripped the iron baton; with an upward lift, he hurled the eighty-kilogram man into the air. While everyone was still astounded, he executed an extreme crouch, leaped powerfully, ascending a full two meters, parallel with the descending bodyguard.
Twisting his body, a familiar spinning side kick. It altered the trajectory of the fall, sending the man flying five meters to the side before collapsing onto the ground. Whether he was alive or dead, nobody knew, for he hadn't moved even a finger.
Landing lithely, he exhaled comfortably. Perhaps due to the prolonged absence of such combat, the preceding exchange had invigorated the circulation throughout his body.
Retreating five paces, 13 surveyed the crowd – sixteen remained.
"Could you hasten? I don't have much time to waste." He then placed his backpack on the ground.
"Baka!" The clamoring crowd surged towards 13.
At this moment, those aboard the aircraft were oblivious to the melee unfolding below.
Sun Hui was assiduously working.
"Are all Japanese people imbeciles? So many unable to fasten their own seatbelts?" Sun Hui fastened the belt for the seventeenth leering old man, cursing inwardly.
Even an idiot could discern she was being toyed with. Among the five flight attendants on board, every service request specifically demanded her assistance; the others were already sipping coffee in the lounge.
"Sir!" Sun Hui endeavored to smile. "Your seatbelt is fastened. Should you require further service, please press the call button." She turned, anticipating departure. But barely had she taken a step when she felt something amiss – a coarse hand was despicably groping her posterior.
Sun Hui shrieked, leaping away: "What are you doing?! You old pervert!"
"How dare you curse?! Baka!" The old man deftly unbuckled his seatbelt, rose, and slapped Sun Hui across the face. "Is this the service attitude of your China? Chinamen truly lack breeding!"
Clutching her face, Sun Hui was rendered speechless. Glancing around, not a single sympathetic gaze met hers. Those with a modicum of conscience feigned interest in magazines, ignoring the situation. The majority watched intently, reveling in the spectacle, occasionally uttering a couple of profanities.
Encountering such an unreasonable person for the first time, tears streamed uncontrollably.
"Apologize immediately, or don't blame me for being discourteous!" The old man wore a lewd grin.
"It was clearly you..." Sun Hui was too choked with anger to articulate clearly.
"What about me?" the old man retorted nonchalantly. "Isn't it just a touch? What's the big deal? Our Great Japan is now the strongest nation. Forget touching your behind; even if we killed your countrymen in Japan, wouldn't your country just have to endure? Because we are a mighty people, and you are lowly Chinamen. Long live Great Japan!" He grew agitated, shouting slogans, which resonated with bystanders, inciting a chorus of shouts.
"You people!" Sun Hui was dumbstruck.
"Still no apology? Watch how I punish you!" The old man, flushed with excitement, seized Sun Hui's shoulders, forcefully shoving her against the wall near the cabin door, and began tearing at her clothes with a lascivious smirk.
Tears elicited no assistance, instead further exciting the surrounding pack of brutes. Even screams yielded no one to help her. Sun Hui was merely a girl who had just turned 22. Upon graduating, she had confidently declared her ambition to be the finest flight attendant. Whether in work or study, Sun Hui was more diligent than anyone, simply wishing to exchange her efforts for a passenger's smile – that was satisfaction enough. Yet now, what she received was the lewd grin of savages. In her heart, Sun Hui prayed for someone to utter "Stop!". This was Chinese soil; no one could act wantonly on Chinese soil. Because China possessed heroes whom everyone feared, the hero Sun Hui revered in her heart. He had a handsome face, his eyes always appearing somewhat listless. His stature wasn't imposing, yet he exuded an unparalleled sense of reliability. Perhaps excessive anticipation induced hallucinations; the person entering the cabin door resembled her hero; his silhouette in the sunlight was uncannily similar. Sun Hui momentarily forgot to weep, forgot her fear. The old man paused his actions, regarding the youth who had interrupted his 'pleasure' with curiosity.
"Am I interrupting?" 13 sensed the old man's furious gaze. His standard Mandarin revealed his identity.
"Another Chinaman pig. Get the hell aside, don't ruin my fun!" Having spoken, he was about to resume, then paused, realizing something was amiss. "Wait! This is a Japanese charter flight. How did you get on board?"
13's response was a swift right fist, landing squarely on the old man's nasal bridge. Those nearby could almost hear the shattering sound of bone.
"I am not a pig. Pay attention next time!" 13 stated composedly, suddenly noticing Sun Hui's tear-glistened eyes. "Do you need a moment to rest?"
Hearing the familiar Mandarin, Sun Hui's tears surged anew. She flung her arms around 13's neck, weeping unrestrainedly. In truth, she yearned to utter a 'thank you', but opening her mouth might lead to choking on tears.
"Kid, who are you? How dare you strike a Japanese person? Don't you want to live?!" Several robust "volunteers" stood up.
"Apologies, I have absolutely no intention of regarding you as human." 13 disentangled himself from Sun Hui's nearly suffocating embrace. "For certain reasons, I am now hijacking this plane!"
Silence. Everyone stared vacantly at the young man who had calmly declared "hijacking".
The volunteers erupted in laughter: "He said he's hijacking the plane, did I hear correctly?"
"Boom!" His left fist punched through the wall of the rest area. Slowly withdrawing it, the coffee spurted from the mouth of the flight attendant inside, drenching her.
"I lack a sense of humor. It's best to treat every word I say as truth."
The volunteers swiftly returned to their seats.
"Excellent!" 13 offered a faint smile. "Listen up, nobody move. Fasten your seatbelts, hands above your heads." He casually tapped the newly created hole in the wall. "The same applies to you." The flight attendants inside nodded repeatedly.
"Right, you are..." 13 looked towards the disheveled girl.
"My name is Sun Hui, the accompanying Chinese flight attendant."
"Could you please keep an eye out for me? If anyone lowers their hands, just shout. I will inform them I dislike jokes. Now, I need to communicate with the captain regarding the new flight route."
"Oh, also, there's a group of bodyguards who haven't boarded yet," Sun Hui added, then immediately recognized the peculiarity of her own action: the man was a hijacker, yet she was reminding him. Although he had saved her, a criminal remained a criminal.
"They won't need to board." Below the aircraft, seventeen individuals were already at peace.
"Thank you for the reminder." 13 smiled. It had to be admitted, Sun Hui was somewhat captivated.
"Who are you?" This perennial question was posed by the captain.
"I'm merely a hijacker. We are no longer heading to Japan; we are going to Korea," 13 stated composedly.