Most passengers aboard the airship seemed very familiar with the interview style of journalists from Happiness Island.
——So much so that one might say they turned a blind eye.
Upon seeing that iconic pink helicopter, those passengers who had already gone out even immediately folded back and returned to their seats.
Of course, it wouldn't be too boring.
After all, the moment they successfully landed, they were already connected to Happiness Island's public WiFi and could surf the internet normally.
The chip implanted in the back of everyone's head, providing personal identity verification, also had considerable convenience in daily life.
There was no need to carry money when going out, no need to sign any documents when traveling, and no need to carry any identification when signing contracts or conducting business; everything could be authenticated through the chip.
At the same time, it offered the function of a "brain screen."
Just like a "screen" or "display"… images and texts were directly projected in front of the eyes, with sounds transmitted into the brain.
Without the need to carry any devices, one could browse web pages, search for information, or listen to music and watch videos anytime and anywhere.
One could even call up a keyboard and type in the air or on the tabletop to reply to messages from relatives and friends. Of course, there was also a pure thought-input mode for everyday chatting, but using written language still required some thought.
Although most people went back to their seats to entertain themselves, there were a few individuals who seemed to come from other Sky Islands and had never been to Happiness Island before.
They stood curiously at the door of the airship, turning on the recording mode as they watched the three helicopters descend gradually.
Russell could actually understand them quite well.
Under normal circumstances, why would several armed helicopters fly directly over and land in front of a civilian airship?
Most likely there was a dangerous person on the airship, or an accident had occurred. In that case, hiding in one's seat might actually be more dangerous than standing at the doorway.
Alternatively, it could be to welcome some Big Shot… they might even catch a chance for a photo op if they stood at the entrance. If they posted it on social media, they could gain quite a few followers.
Soon, their curiosity was satisfied.
Twelve black-clad figures wearing explosive-resistant helmets fitted with tactical eyepieces and gas filters, and dressed in thick insulating bulletproof vests, descended from two large helicopters using rappelling ropes.
In their hands, they held submachine guns that fired rubber bullets, and at their waists dangled "Guard Sticks" which could extend or retract and also turn into electric shock batons at any moment; their left arms were uniformly outfitted with mechanical prosthetics.
Russell even recognized the model of that prosthetic — it was a new model called the Three-fist Iron Claw.
This was developed by Russell's teacher three months ago, with Russell personally involved in the design. Russell even knew the entire internal structure of this model of prosthetic.
Apart from being able to fit three retractable blades, it could also launch three Flash bombs, Smoke Bombs, or Stun Bombs in a pre-loaded sequence, and at the same time, it had four common interfaces.
This thing was not cheap.
After all, it was a new product with no pirated copies, knockoffs, or second-hand versions available; all units were directly air-shipped from Chongguang Island.
Because the supply was so limited, the price simply couldn't drop.
It was like the latest type of air series graphics card from another world, all belonging to the good stuff of the air series.
Only a direct subsidiary company of the Seven Giants could afford to buy it and equip it immediately.
In the midst of filming and onlooking from the surrounding people, this group of fully armed burly men, after disembarking from the helicopter, rushed towards the crowd.
They did not use electric shock guns, but instead raised their Guard Sticks expanded into long stick form and shouted loudly—
"Back off!"
"No recording allowed!"
"Keep quiet!"
The crowd, intimidated, quickly moved back, soon forming a large empty circle, and the cacophony of noise gradually diminished. Even so, those gathered near the landing pad did not disperse.
And though these burly black-clad men were shouting "No recording allowed," Russell could tell by the way those people stood as if in a daze with their heads motionless and staring straight ahead, they were definitely still recording.
But these men didn't really manage these issues.
After clearing a large empty space by driving the crowd outwards, six black-clad men stood at the corners of the open space, retracted their Guard Sticks, and reversed their grip on their rifles to watch the people outside, ready to shoot at any moment.
The other half of the black-clad men turned around and charged into the airship.
They swung their Guard Sticks, now uncharged and retracted into short sticks, ordering those passengers standing at the door to step back and sit down in their seats.
"Do not interfere with newsgathering activities!"
"Disruptive individuals' codes will be recorded!"
"We are about to record, stay quiet!"
Only a sluggish, middle-aged man with a face resembling that of a frog remained oblivious to what was happening.
He stood at the doorway, watching people retreat backward and even cast a mocking glance at them.
Then, without any warning or signal, he suddenly felt a stick strike his back.
Fortunately, the stick wasn't electrified, or he would have probably been knocked out on the spot.
Just as the man was about to explode in anger, he was immediately met with six gun barrels, all aimed squarely at him.
The tac goggles of the people in black suddenly emitted thin red beams, leaving six moving red spots on the man's body.
The middle-aged man instantly became quiet at a speed visible to the naked eye, politely smiling as he retreated back to his seat.
After ushering everyone out, they left two people behind, standing like door gods on either side of the airship's lateral hatch, barring anyone from passing through and carefully making sure not to expose an inch of their own bodies—at least not visible from the outside.
Soon, all the standing passengers were harshly ordered back to their seats.
Except for Russell and Amirus.
Upon seeing Amirus—or more precisely, upon seeing the Elf ears of Amirus—the men's indifferent and ruthless demeanor instantly softened.
Apart from the two on guard, the remaining four took turns bowing respectfully to Amirus.
As for Russell…
Perhaps because Amirus had shielded him or didn't take the initiative to introduce him.
After the Old Elf had shown this attitude, the people in black acted as if they simply didn't see Russell at all, their gaze not even sweeping over him, let alone curiously sizing him up or inquiring about his identity.
Even two of them very consciously stood in front of Amirus, raising their electric shock guns and guarding him on either side.
The last two began to patrol back and forth in the aisles between the first-class cabin and the common cabin.
It almost seemed as if they were the ones who had hijacked the airship, far more professional than the previous group of mercenaries.
The people in full black presented an absolute silence. Whether the passengers were calmly surfing the internet and chatting, cursing them in hushed fear, or asking about the situation in confusion, as long as the passengers' voices didn't carry outside and affect the filming, or they didn't rush into the frame, they turned a deaf ear.
Clearing the space, maintaining quiet, and safeguarding the personal safety of the Elf during this unexpected situation—beyond that, they asked nothing of the passengers nor did they do anything to them.
…Just for such a trivial matter, could they really deploy three armed helicopters and two fully-armed security teams?
Russell was dumbfounded.
Although the weapons in the hands of the security personnel could only fire rubber bullets, just by hearing their exceptionally heavy footsteps, Russell could directly deduce that their cyborg modifications were at least above 70%.
They probably wouldn't die even if they were strafed by machine guns or bombed by missiles.
But according to Amirus…
They weren't even his personal detail brought in to protect himself?
"That's quite normal."
Seeing the surprise and astonishment in Russell's expression, Amirus directly spoke up, patiently explaining to Russell, "Happiness Island has had several incidents of hijacking, attacking, and assassinating journalists, as well as kidnapping journalists to control and influence interview content."
"…Why would they go to such lengths?"
"Because on Happiness Island, the 'Happiness Daily' interviews are live-streamed over the internet. And like the rules on other Sky Islands, all public interview content is archived synchronously on the Church servers. Although the number of people who happen to watch the live news is certainly very few, the ones who do see it may well save the live footage—they have the right to forward or edit it."
The Old Elf replied, "But the 'Happiness Daily' itself doesn't have the right to edit or alter the content of the news they've gathered in any way. In the comprehensive daily newspaper the next day, they can at most choose to publish or not publish this segment of the interview footage, but cannot selectively release part of the content. Because anyone with a bit of authority can check and download these public interview recordings from the Church servers at any time.
"This means that if a journalist is hijacked or induced to ask unfavorable questions, or if abrupt, discordant background noise is captured during an interview, it can't be edited. And it will be archived permanently.
"These professional security personnel are here to provide close protection for the journalists, to ensure they are not bribed, controlled, induced, attacked, assassinated, or kidnapped. Not only during their work but this protection doesn't cease in their daily lives either,"
The Old Elf said with a smile.
Although his expression was quite gentle, resembling a civil and steady old gentleman, there was no mention of any impolite words, yet Russell could clearly sense an extremely faint but discernible mockery.
It was like an oil stain on a white shirt, inconspicuous yet notably bothersome.
Although Amirus spoke rather tactfully,
Russell was acutely aware of the secondary meaning hidden in Amirus's words.
—This protection also served as surveillance. And it was a form of intimidation.
To ensure the journalists weren't held captive and coerced into saying "what shouldn't be said," and so deploying two fully armed cyborg troops for round-the-clock protection…
But what if those who sent out these guards… personally controlled, induced, or bribed these journalists?