19: Chapter 19: 3 shots, 210% interception rate.

Seven minutes and fifty seconds.

The air in the lounge felt as if it had been sucked dry; you could hear a pin drop.

The next second, the frozen air was instantly shattered by a cacophony of discussion.

"Missiles? What kind of joke is that!" Shen Jue's comma-shaped bangs were practically standing on end. "This is Dubai! Who would be crazy enough to bomb this place?"

"Brother Li, your joke is a bit too much..."

"Exactly, airport security is definitely at the highest level. What could possibly happen to us here?" Fang Ruowei covered her mouth and laughed, trying to ease the atmosphere, but her voice sounded a bit shaky.

Han Xubai didn't laugh. He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, the lenses reflecting the light.

"Li Li, I remember your resume says you're from the Architecture department, not the Arabic department. There are many cases of false air defense alarms; take that incident in Hawaii last month, for example, when an intern pressed the wrong button and caused the whole island to panic for thirty-eight minutes."

His speaking speed was extremely fast, like a courtroom statement, every word carrying unquestionable professionalism.

Director Pei Zhao's string of fortune beads stopped spinning. He clutched several index cards, looking at Li Li with a half-smile.

"Li Li, I know it's hard for an amateur to stand out on the show." He paused, his red nails tapping against his temple. "But isn't this 'traffic code' you've found steering a bit too far off course?"

Gu Zeyan said nothing. He stood up and walked straight out the side door.

A forty-one-degree heatwave rushed in, only to be shut out again as he closed the door.

A few seconds later, he returned, his perfect, sunny smile back on his face.

"Everything is normal outside. Don't scare yourselves."

This sentence was like a calming pill, causing the tense atmosphere in the lounge to relax by more than half.

In Li Li's livestream room, the comments were going crazy.

[An amateur saying there's a missile at an international airport? Does he think he's filming a movie?]

[He'll really fabricate anything for fame, embarrassing us abroad!]

[Mumu, stay away from him! This guy is mentally unstable!]

[The biggest joke in the history of Dating Reality Shows is born: An amateur shouting that missiles are coming at Dubai airport.]

Li Li glanced at the comments and turned off his phone screen.

The guests didn't believe him, the director didn't believe him, and the audience didn't believe him.

That was perfectly normal. If it were him on the other side of the screen seeing a newly debuted influencer shouting "Missiles are coming" at Dubai airport, he would also swipe away and report it for "creating panic."

He couldn't be bothered to explain and turned to leave on his own.

Just then, his left wrist suddenly burned.

Blue characters with gold edges appeared beneath his skin, carrying an irresistible command.

[Ding! Emergency mission triggered!]

[Mission Name: Ladies First Check-in Plan]

[Mission Requirements: Take your partner, Jiang Rumu, and reach the Burj Al Arab as fast as possible.]

[Evaluation Criteria: The faster you arrive, the higher your ranking, and the better the romantic reward.]

He pulled down his sleeve to cover the blue light and looked up.

Six minutes and forty seconds.

Jiang Rumu was standing just three steps away, her hand resting quietly on the handle of her suitcase.

From beginning to end, she hadn't said a word. She hadn't joined in the noisy denial, nor had she shown even a hint of mockery.

She was waiting.

Li Li walked over.

"Do you trust me?"

Jiang Rumu didn't answer immediately. Her gaze moved past Li Li's face and landed on the bulging backpack behind him. That bag was stuffed with free snacks and tactical rations he'd scavenged from the plane.

A person who, when everyone else felt safe, was still subconsciously stockpiling food.

She didn't nod, nor did she shake her head.

"What do you want to do?"

This wasn't a challenge, but rather, "Tell me your plan."

Li Li held up one finger.

"Regardless of whether the alarm is real or fake, we're leaving now. If it's real, we save our lives; if it's fake, we get to the hotel early and enjoy the air conditioning. Either way, we don't lose."

Jiang Rumu's thumb pressed lightly on the button of her suitcase handle, then released it.

She turned and walked toward Director Pei Zhao, the sound of her high heels clicking on the floor crisp and rhythmic.

"Director Pei."

Director Pei Zhao turned back.

"Li Li and I are leaving first."

The fortune beads in Director Pei Zhao's hand stopped.

"Now? The game rules haven't..."

"We've decided to leave now." Jiang Rumu interrupted him directly, her gaze sweeping over the four photos of transportation on the whiteboard. "The motorcycle should be the worst choice; give it to us."

Exactly six minutes.

A top-tier celebrity with thirty million followers had voluntarily given up all her advantages just to leave early with a raving amateur.

Director Pei Zhao's brain spun rapidly—if they left, it wouldn't affect the other groups, and it could still create a viral moment. If something really happened, they wouldn't be on-site, and the liability would be smaller.

"Fine."

He took a set of keys out of his pocket and threw them over.

Jiang Rumu caught them with one hand and turned to leave. As she passed by Li Li, she dropped only one word.

"Let's go."

Li Li followed immediately, and Shen Jue's hesitant voice came from behind.

"Sister? Brother Li..."

The door closed behind them.

Parking lot.

The forty-one-degree heatwave felt like a wall, the asphalt road steaming with distorted air.

The car keys had a green plastic tag hanging from them, printed with two words: Yadea.

A military-green electric motorcycle had a "Guan Neng 3" label on the front, with a line of small text next to it— "One charge, go further."

Five minutes and thirty seconds.

Li Li squatted down, looking at the 80km/h maximum speed on the dashboard, and made a quick mental calculation. It was twenty kilometers to the Burj Al Arab; even at full speed, it would take fifteen minutes.

"How do we put the suitcase?" Jiang Rumu asked.

"Put it in the front, I'll hold it with my feet."

Li Li wedged the small suitcase sideways into the footrest, his feet perfectly pinning it on both sides.

"Give me the bag." Jiang Rumu reached out to him.

Li Li turned back to look at her, then at the four-kilogram "explosives pack" on his back.

"It's heavy."

"I know."

Jiang Rumu took the backpack and slung it onto her back with agility. The bulging bag pressed against her slender shoulders, the straps digging two deep marks into her twenty-thousand-dollar silk shirt.

Four minutes and fifty seconds.

She straddled the back seat of the Yadea, her hands resting naturally on her knees.

Li Li twisted the throttle, and the motor emitted a faint hum.

"Hold on tight."

"Mhm."

He twisted the throttle to the max.

The Yadea surged out of the parking lot with the fastest acceleration since it left the factory.

The immense inertia made Jiang Rumu's body jerk backward, and the next second, she pressed her entire body against him.

Her arms wrapped around his sides, tightly encircling his waist, her fingers interlaced and locked.

Li Li's back instantly felt a complex sensation. Through two layers of fabric, there was the softness and warmth of her chest, and further out, the digging edges of the nuts and compressed biscuits in the backpack.

Her chin rested lightly on his right shoulder, and the micro-camera on his collar was completely blocked by her arms and his body.

The screen in front of the 7.5 million viewers in Jiang Rumu's livestream room instantly went black.

All that remained was the sound of the wind, the motor, and the faint rustle of clothing friction.

[!!!!!!!!!!]

[She hugged him!!! Jiang Rumu took the initiative to hug him from behind!!!]

[A top-tier celebrity with thirty million followers is riding a Yadea to run away with an amateur—am I crazy, or is the world crazy?!]

Li Li didn't look at the comments.

He was counting the time.

Three minutes and twenty seconds.

The electric scooter rushed onto the main airport road, speeding at the 80 km/h limit.

Two minutes and fifty seconds.

In the rearview mirror, the outline of the terminal building was shrinking rapidly.

One minute and thirty seconds.

Just as the electric scooter turned onto the D89 highway.

In the sky toward the airport, a thick white plume of smoke shot up from the ground, topped with a blinding orange-red flare at the base, rising straight up at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Anti-aircraft missiles.

Jiang Rumu's arms, wrapped around his waist, tightened by an inch.

She had seen it too.

He didn't ease off the throttle.

Immediately after, a second and third white plume of smoke rose one after another from the horizon, tearing through the heatwaves and pouncing toward some invisible target in the sky.

Li Li stared at those three trajectories of death in the rearview mirror and finished counting.

"According to the Yu Formula, three rounds, 210% interception rate."

He spoke, his voice somewhat scattered by the wind.

"It shouldn't be a big problem."

Just as he finished speaking, his hand gripping the throttle twisted down a fraction more, and the speedometer needle struggled from seventy-nine and jumped to eighty.