After Death, I Became a Superhuman

Leng Ming, a pilot from Dongzhou Airlines, captain of flight A9532.

The entire journey from Dongdu to Kangtu is about two thousand kilometers. What was supposed to be an ordinary, routine flight, a route he'd flown over a hundred times, a route he could fly blind without any errors, turned out different this time.

An accident happened.

Sometimes, things just suck. Luck is like a scoundrel, bringing drastic changes without any warning.@@novelbin@@

At 6:20, the flight crew found damage to the intake duct of the right engine and a ruptured engine fairing.

At 6:22, flight A9532 sent out a distress signal. The plane descended rapidly by two thousand meters.

At 6:25, the Kangtu airport tower confirmed the engine damage of flight A9536 and began arranging for an emergency landing.

At 6:28, a communication failure occurred. Contact between flight A9536 and the ground tower was completely cut off.

At 6:30, things completely spiraled out of control.

Leng Ming had to admit, he'd been flying for a lifetime, but none was as nerve-wracking as today. Initially, he considered himself calm and handled the situation fairly well. His rich flying experience became his sedative, telling him this was not a serious problem.

Engine failure may sound terrifying, but it's not necessarily fatal. Even without power, a modern airliner theoretically has a chance to glide and make an emergency landing. Though single-engine forced landing is dangerous, he felt he could handle it.

What really hit him hard was hearing that the second engine had also malfunctioned.

Engine failure is already a rare event. Two engines going on strike together is an accident of indescribable rarity. Hearing this news, even with his rich experience, he felt a moment of darkness, his hand on the control stick trembling.

But when Leng Ming saw the despair on the co-pilot's face, he controlled himself. He heard himself speak with a calm voice that surprised even him.

"Don't worry, we still have a chance to land," he said.

Is there a chance? He didn't know.

But he was the captain. The lives of 194 passengers and nine crew members were his responsibility. He had to remain calm and make the right choices at every step.

At 6:48, the wing broke off.

Leng Ming knew, this was the final moment. They had done everything they could, but they lost to fate. Sometimes, people are too small in the face of something as colossal as fate and there's very little that can be done. They were like ants caught in the eye of a storm, exhausting their efforts futilely, then dying powerlessly.

The plane began to plummet, the fuselage spinning in the air. Everyone on the plane was pinned to their seats by the immense force, as if their internal organs were being squeezed.

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The broken wing caught fire, and the pungent smell of smoke could be smelt from inside the cabin. Leng Ming knew that any second, their plane could disintegrate in mid-air. They would be sucked into a storm thousands of meters above the ground, like a large bag of chips thrown into a washing machine.

He could almost hear the grim reaper laughing in the storm outside the cabin, because the end was inevitable. Even miracles wouldn't save them now. Even if God himself appeared, he could only sigh helplessly.

There was no fluke, no chance, only the endless despair of waiting for death in freefall.

But at a certain moment immediately following, everyone felt a strong jolt. As if someone had given their cabin a heavy blow from the outside, a powerful force penetrated from the nose of the aircraft to the tail.

The spinning plane was slowly corrected, nose down and tail up, trailing a plume of black smoke that shot into the sky, like a diver completing a somersault and beginning to freefall.

"We're decelerating!" the co-pilot said with a mix of surprise and bewilderment.

Leng Ming felt it too, the plummeting aircraft was decelerating at a remarkably significant rate. But how was that possible?

They began to fall from a height of seven thousand meters, with the plane's empty weight being over forty tons. Dreaming of slowing down under such conditions due to external force was an idea Leng Ming would not dare to entertain.

Yet, it was genuinely happening.

Leng Ming stared blankly, his eyes widened. Looking through the windscreen at the scene outside, he was petrified.

He saw a person.

A human being, at an altitude of thousands of meters, where even the lack of oxygen was fatal, was stopping their plane's descent with his bare body.

The scene was as if he was saying:

—It's just a plane, watch me push it back.

Leng Ming felt that his brain could not process the information captured by his eyes.

"Do you see what I see?" he asked the co-pilot in a daze, then realized from the co-pilot's similarly astonished expression that he was not hallucinating due to the extreme environment.

It was real.

They were decelerating because a person was holding up their falling plane.

Even "miracle" seemed pale in front of such a scene. Only the two people in the cockpit saw what happened, but even though they saw it, they could not understand it. It was as if ancient people saw the heavenly fire thrown down to the human world by Prometheus, shocked and bewildered yet filled with awe.

For an instant, such a thought even flashed through the captain's mind.

Perhaps this is what it feels like to truly see God?

The altitude was less than a hundred meters. For a building, it would be a skyscraper. But for a falling plane, it was just a hairbreadth away. Leng Ming felt as if his breath was stuck, his heart ready to burst out of his chest.

The flying man in front of the cockpit took a deep breath, just like a martial arts expert preparing to explode the power of his Dantian. The next second, the entire plane shook even more violently.

It was like when you suddenly slam the brakes near a traffic light. Everyone was thrown out of their seats and then buckled securely by the seat belts. The acceleration of the plane's deceleration suddenly increased significantly, and the kinetic energy of the fall, along with the weight of the plane, was transferred from the tail of the plane to the front, falling into the steel-like arms of the young man holding up the plane.

But he took it steadily, immobile, as if those iron arms could bear the weight of the world.

A crisp sound rang out, it was the sound of the titanium alloy at the front of the cockpit cracking. At that moment, Leng Ming felt a thud in his heart, thinking that the plane would not be able to bear the burden at this last moment.

Fortunately, it didn't.

The flying man in the air held it up, and so did the battered plane.

The young man in the red cloak lifted the upside-down plane over his head with both hands, like a weightlifting athlete in a gym, except the iron he was lifting was a tad larger.

After a brief pause, he put down the plane. The fuselage crashed to the ground, and the cabin shook one last time before finally coming to a quiet halt.

Leng Ming looked at the young man with his cape fluttering beside the plane, opening his mouth and closing it again, struggling to articulate.

There was the joy of having survived a catastrophe, yet also the feeling of being at a loss, as if his worldview had been tossed into a shredder and then stuffed back into him.

He felt like he might be going mad.

Then, the young man even looked over at them, saluted the captain with an unconventional gesture, and smiled.

"We made a good team~"

With that, the young man made a 'thump' sound, left a circle of transparent shockwave, and vanished into the sky without disturbing a single cloud.