I sat in the waiting hall of the airport, thinking about what to do with the situation.

But before I could think of a solution, resentment and anger came first.

I can even see something like this:

Angel opened my mailbox, stole my information, and then went to the airport before me to pick up my ticket.

There can't be anyone else but him, can it?

I still can't understand his brain circuitry.

I don't know what he's clinging to.

After another moment, there was less than half an hour left before the flight took off.

I started to really get on my seat.

If I can't go back today, my job and credibility will suffer a huge loss.

I'm going to go to the head of the airline.

If I could have asked him to contact An Yanke, maybe my situation would not have been so passive.

The staff at the counter showed me the way: the manager's office is on the right at the end of the airport waiting room.

All I had in my carry-on luggage was a folder and a small trolley suitcase.

I checked the contents before I left, but they were just light clothes and household items.

But at this time, the trolley case made a strange gurgling sound.

When I was still a few dozen meters away from the airport office, I stopped and listened carefully to the sound.

Inexplicably, I remembered the superfluid material that Ilan and Tatu had collected at the altar.

A light flashed through my mind that made me shudder.

I bent down, ready to open the suitcase and check the contents again.

"Be careful!" The familiar voice sounded not far behind itself, as if trembling slightly with fear.

I did stop moving, not out of fear of what was going to happen, but out of anger.

Amazing...... Sure enough, he did it, right?

How could it be here at such a time?

At that moment, a pair of arms of incredible strength suddenly grabbed my waist and dragged me back several meters.

I watched as a puff of gray-blue smoke came out of the cracks in my suitcase.

Then, a blinding white light penetrates every gap in the suitcase, becoming the most striking light source in the airport hall.

I was speechless.

In the next second, the ground began to shake unusually, the airport alarm system rang non-stop, and people not far away also let out one after another screams.

There was a muffled "bang", and a gust of hot wind rushed towards him, and the air burst into a sparkling fireball.

I couldn't help but block my vision with my arm, and then I smelled a cloudy smell similar to burnt coal.

Angel covered my ears, but I still felt dizzy with tinnitus.

"Are you alright?" His voice seemed tender, yet seemingly emotionless.

Trained security personnel carried out an emergency evacuation of the scene.

There were just over two dozen people in the empty waiting hall, and no one showed signs of panic or extreme fear.

Some were cut by flying shards, others were burned by falling sparks, and others were simply frightened and groaned.

We came to the underground bomb shelter of the airport.

The people who come to this city are either research scholars like me or adventurers who are curious about the city.

The precipitation of age and the tempering of work have created our calm character.

No one complained or complained.

It's just that this accident has shortened the distance between us.

Some people lament the impermanence of life, while others are surprised by the undercurrents of the city.

Not long after, a man in a suit with glasses stared at me with a worried brow, and said in a mean tone, "Sir, what is going on?" If I'm not mistaken—that's your suitcase, right? ”