“...After that battle with the Demon Reincarnation Squad, my heart was truly in ashes. If it weren't for the hope of resurrecting everyone, if it weren't for the burning desire for revenge, perhaps I wouldn't even have the courage to keep fighting.” Zheng Zha murmured to himself, looking at the familiar, dusty yellow sands before him.

The Green Goblin Skateboard that had been riddled with holes in the previous fight was long unusable, but some of its core components had surprisingly survived. Thus, Chu Xuan had only exchanged for some very cheap materials to reassemble a new Green Goblin Skateboard, which functioned identically to the original.

The group entered the world of The Mummy horror film, materializing once again in that small hotel in Cairo. However, the atmosphere here felt distinctly off. The thoroughfares were guarded by Cairo police officers clad in strange uniforms. Fortunately, their entry point was relatively secluded, and the hotel was now under the ownership of the Pharaoh's Guardians clan. Thus, shortly after they checked in, the Museum Curator rushed over to meet them.

The old man seemed to be in much better spirits; he greeted them with enthusiastic hugs and cheek-kisses upon arrival.

Of course, several members of the team were people he kept his distance from—Chu Xuan and Zero Point, for instance—and Zhan Lan summarily refused such formalities.

The old man didn't take offense. He immediately demanded a large glass of iced milk from the men in black at the counter. After draining it, he finally spoke: “It’s a good thing you didn’t cross paths with those police outside. Otherwise, even with our intervention, it would have taken a mountain of paperwork to get you out. Alas.”

Everyone exchanged curious glances, with Zheng Zha being the most astonished. He was well aware of the reach of the Men in Black organization, especially after receiving his substantial gold funding. This descendant group of the Pharaoh’s Guardians had effectively permeated all of Egypt, a development even the British colonialists had noticed, prompting them to initiate a series of adjustments targeting the organization, the most significant being a thorough investigation into the extent of the Men in Black’s power.

Previously, the British colonists had treated this faction with considerably more deference.

“There was no choice. Germany and several European nations are at war. Although the conflict hasn't reached us yet, judging by the situation, it’s only a matter of time...” The old man’s expression was indifferent, yet his eyes betrayed a clear excitement.

Zheng Zha hummed, “So, World War II has begun. Doesn't that mean your plan can commence soon? To reclaim all of Egypt for the Egyptian people—you must have been preparing for this scenario for a long time, haven't you?” The old man finally smiled. “Yes, yes, exactly right. The elders have already connected with numerous intelligence organizations on the European continent. We receive European intel three times a day. As soon as something happens over there, we can move immediately... All of this, honestly, is thanks to you and your companions. Without your funding, we wouldn't possess this current strength. It’s wonderful. We just need some armored unit equipment; the leader is currently meeting with some arms dealers...”

The old man rambled through various organizational updates. For instance, the tall, bearded man in black had gone to America—partly to visit the children of the Men in Black organization residing there, and partly to secure arms deals. In short, upon returning to the world of The Mummy this time, the group might not recognize a single familiar face.

“And O'Connell and Evy have settled down in America. I hear the environment there is quite good; at least the war won't reach that far. Oh, Jonathan has gone to China. I hear he got entangled in some matters in Shanghai, something about a Buddha's head that shoots electrical light. Imhotep is even writing letters now! Apparently, he still hasn't found the Holy Grail and is still busy out in the wilderness. He did manage to locate several gold mines, though, and he handed the management of them over to O'Connell. That fellow is rich now, hahahaha...” The old man spoke with a sigh of retrospective wonder. Not long ago, these factions were mortal enemies—the Men in Black versus O’Connell’s group, and even between the Men in Black and Imhotep. After enduring so much, former adversaries found kinship in each other.

“Heh.”

Zheng Zha felt a surge of warmth in his heart. He smiled, “Then we have nothing special pending here. We’ll just wait until we’ve resurrected our comrades and then leave... Old man, tell your leader this: we will never forget the partners who once fought shoulder-to-shoulder with us. If we return next time and you find yourselves caught in the flames of World War II... please don't hesitate to tell us. We will absolutely rush over to help!” The old man didn't say much more, merely waving his hand before walking outside alone, accompanied by two Men in Black. Before long, the old man returned with seven sets of local attire and some British pounds freshly withdrawn from the bank. This old man had practically prepared everything for them.

“Well then... tonight, everyone let’s eat and drink heartily! Tomorrow you head for Hamunaptra, the City of the Dead, right? There are people there who have seen you before guarding it, so don't worry. Hahaha, we won't go home sober tonight...” Perhaps the good news had lifted his spirits; seeing his clan prosper year after year, the Museum Curator became overly excited upon meeting the benefactors responsible for it all. In the end, he was the first to pass out, having chosen the wrong opponent for a drinking contest: he immediately challenged Bawang. The Russian giant treated tequila as if it were water; he found anything less than vodka bland. The two then proceeded to down bottles in competition, and moments later, the old man was curled up under the table, while Bawang, shaking his head slightly as he drank, seemed as unaffected as if he were sipping water.

“Then, first thing tomorrow morning, everyone goes to the City of the Dead. Resurrecting the others is the priority. If any unexpected delays occur in the process—say, a conflict with the British garrison—we can resolve it swiftly and return to the ‘Main God’ space... So, everyone get some good rest.”

After the dinner, even Zheng Zha felt slightly giddy. He said a few casual words to the others before heading to his own room alone. Passing through the corridor, he happened to look up and saw a full moon hanging overhead. Its pure, bright moonlight poured down upon the earth, casting the entire landscape in a soft, silvery white.

“Wait for me, comrades. I’ll come to resurrect you soon... Then, we’ll go find the Demon Reincarnation Squad for revenge, and take back what we lost!” The night passed without incident.

The next day, everyone woke up clear-headed early in the morning. After changing into robes suitable for desert wear, the group began assembling the small airship basket attachment for the Green Goblin Skateboard in the hotel’s courtyard.

Before long, the Museum Curator hadn't even woken up, and the others were already airborne on the Green Goblin Skateboard, flying toward the City of the Dead, Hamunaptra.

Upon reaching Hamunaptra, the City of the Dead, they discovered the place had drastically changed.

It had originally resembled an ancient ruin, but now the surrounding columns and iconic statues had vanished. If not for a military camp base nearby, the group might have suspected they had taken a wrong turn. The Men in Black guarding the camp noticed the unusual aerial activity. As the Green Goblin Skateboard settled onto the ground, several of the black-clad riders spurred their horses toward them. Zheng Zha, however, met them without hesitation.

The group of black-clad cavalrymen dismounted when they were about a hundred paces from Zheng Zha. The leader, also a burly middle-aged man, performed a salute before even approaching Zheng Zha—a gesture that appeared to be an ancient custom still preserved in Egypt.

The leading man called out loudly, “Benefactors of our Pharaoh’s descendants, welcome back to the City of the Dead. Our leader has commanded us to receive you and your companions with the highest honors. May I ask, will you enter the City of the Dead first, or rest in the base for a while?”

The Man in Black was quite direct. Zheng Zha exchanged glances with those behind him; they all shook their heads. They hadn't been particularly tired on the journey, having flown the entire way on the Green Goblin Skateboard. So, Zheng Zha immediately replied, “We’d prefer to go into the City of the Dead first... But why does it look like this? Have there been any major changes to Hamunaptra?”

The middle-aged Man in Black replied respectfully, “Because the leader said that viewed from above, the City of the Dead was too conspicuous. This place could become a battlefield soon, and to prevent damage to the altars within, the leader ordered his kinsmen to relocate or bury the external columns and statues, covering them with yellow sand and inconspicuous rocks. Thus, apart from the military camp, there is little resemblance left of the original City of the Dead.”

Zheng Zha silently offered praise. He hadn't expected the tall, bearded man to be so meticulous. He feared nothing else, but he genuinely worried that the altar might be accidentally damaged by a bomb or something similar during the war. If that happened, resurrection would require paying double in the ‘Main God’ space. Fortunately, even with World War II looming, after all these efforts, this desolate stretch of desert might not even become a battleground—unless some desert fox happened to pass through, this place should be quite safe.

“Let’s go, enter the City of the Dead.”