The intensity of the sound was simply unbelievable. The waves collided like a heavyweight boxer's punch, ruthlessly smashing against his ears. It was as if a ferocious beast pressed its bloodied jaws against his cheek and roared in rage.
Xie Junping swore he had never experienced anything so terrifying in his life. The shockwave tore through his entire body, making his eyes bulge and his internal organs twist and lurch. In his daze, his flesh felt like a fragile water bag, ready to burst at any moment.
An unprecedented fear swept through him like a storm. With unnerving clarity, he could feel every detail of his body collapsing from the inside out.
He didn't know where this sensation came from, but his psychological defenses had crumbled entirely. He screamed again, this time with no one to stop him.
After yelling for what felt like an eternity, Xie Junping finally exhausted every ounce of energy and emotion. Only then did he realize he was still suspended in midair. He hadn't fallen, but neither had he improved.
The shockwave had come suddenly and vanished just as abruptly. A cool breeze returned, but Xie Junping had already collapsed. His fingers barely clung to Luo Nan's wrist, and the sensation of touch was blurred in the trembling haze. It was as though his entire being existed in a nightmare.
The worst part was Luo Nan himself—the one controlling his fate—lying there with an unusual expression. His normally calm, resolute gaze was unfocused. His palms were clammy, trembling slightly.
Xie Junping felt tears prick his eyes. "Hey… hey, are you okay?"
Luo Nan didn't respond. He simply closed his eyes, sweat sliding down from the depths of his hair.
Xie Junping finally understood that Luo Nan's condition was extremely precarious. Any further movement would be near impossible.
If he fell like this, there would be no coming back.
It was all because of that damned—uh, what was it again?—explosion? Xie Junping couldn't pinpoint the source of the impact, but he didn't have time to think. He forced himself to speak.
"Steady… steady! I'll call the police immediately…"
Luo Nan's eyelids twitched. With difficulty, he opened his eyes and scanned Xie Junping's face. He squeezed out a few words between clenched teeth: "Look at your car."
"Uh… don't worry about that right now…"
"Look down!"
Xie Junping hesitated but finally forced himself to overcome the dizziness and fear. He looked down—and saw the Phantom. The sleek silhouette of the flying car hovered less than ten meters below.
The Phantom, priced at 500 million, had its advantages. Beyond flying on magnetic rails and superconducting roads like other flying cars, it had an emergency suspension and braking system.
So after the viaduct collapsed, the car didn't smash into the ground. It automatically activated levitation, slowly rising in search of a magnetic track. Apart from a few dents from falling debris, it was unharmed.
A lifesaver.
Xie Junping, fully awake now, quickly issued commands to position the flying car beneath him as a foothold.
One minute later, the danger passed.
Exhausted from surviving death, Xie Junping had no strength to speak. He treated his wounds and slumped into the driver's seat, completely limp.
Luo Nan returned to the car a while later. He had thrown his loose-leaf notebook to the ground earlier to free his hands for the rescue. Naturally, he picked it up.
He closed his eyes as soon as he settled in. Sweat soaked his body, and the exertion had drained him completely. Only upon holding the notebook did his mind and body finally relax.
Xie Junping stared blankly for a moment before remembering his task. The moment had been anticlimactic, but without Luo Nan's composure and timely action, Xie Junping would have ended up as the most miserable member of Acumen College's Honor Society.
It was, without a doubt, a life-saving grace.
Turning to express his gratitude, Xie Junping's micro-headphones buzzed. Yingying's voice cut through:
"Hey, hey, Yang Hu. Are you okay?"
Xie Junping's mouth twitched. Fueled by raw emotion, he didn't care what Luo Nan thought and shouted:
"Yang your sister! Hu your mom!"
A moment of silence, then Yingying's voice returned, calmer but no less firm:
"Alright then, Young Xie. I don't care what situation you're in, but you must leave that position immediately. Two minutes ago, an intense shock occurred roughly two kilometers northwest of you, one kilometer underground. The energy was equivalent to a small nuclear explosion, generating an electromagnetic storm. Whether the ionizing radiation has exceeded safe limits is hard to determine."
"A nuclear bomb?" Xie Junping's emotions froze. Now he understood why all his portable electronics had malfunctioned.
He checked the car doors and windows frantically, then activated the detection device. Seconds passed.
"Nothing. It shows nothing."
"Then you still need to leave quickly. Don't tell me you plan to stay and help the police make statements," Yingying warned, providing new coordinates.
Xie Junping cursed as he started the flying car. "Wasn't it an earthquake? Wasn't it an earthquake?"
"It's regrettable. We can't find any case of an earthquake affecting only 12 square kilometers with a magnitude over 9. I'd rather believe this was an accident… a disaster of level one," Yingying analyzed.
She added: "It's best to return to Mangzhong immediately. A minute ago, another magnitude 5 quake hit there. Your colleagues are probably searching for you."
Xie Junping didn't have the energy to respond.
Yingying continued: "I've arranged for your father's high-altitude flying shuttle. It'll arrive in ninety seconds and will ensure you return to Mangzhong in twenty minutes."
As predicted, the Phantom's sensors detected the shuttle arriving at Yingying's coordinates—on the middle landing platform of a high-rise outside the 12-square-kilometer danger zone. Glass was broken in a few places, and cleaning robots were at work.
The "Hummingbird" shuttle landed with a rumble.
Xie Junping, still dazed, forced himself to focus. He walked out, pausing to turn his head:
"Words cannot express my gratitude. Junior, I'll remember this favor. Your condition isn't ideal—this car is yours. Go get checked at the hospital. I'll contact you later."
He handed over the Phantom's controls to Luo Nan, allowing him to operate it via his wristband.
Luo Nan, still recovering from the hellish experience, nodded silently.
Xie Junping bowed again, then boarded the shuttle. It soared straight into the clouds.
The landing pad fell quiet. Luo Nan took deep breaths, straightened his back, and reached for the energy drink on the control panel—an effort that nearly drained him entirely. He leaned back, exhaling heavily.
"Close the door," he murmured.
The Phantom's butterfly doors sealed the cabin.
Luo Nan didn't need to sit in the driver's seat. He simply set a route, and the intelligent car would handle the rest.
But his command wasn't for the school.
"Return."
The car reversed onto the self-driving track. Luo Nan used voice control to open the makeup mirror, and a fine mist sprayed onto his face. What should have been soothing felt like countless tiny blades scraping across his skin. His entire body twitched.
His reflection was pale and lifeless—like a terminally ill patient beyond hope.
Luo Nan tried to unscrew the energy drink's cap, his fingers weak and aching. After several failed attempts, he succeeded. He tore open a military energy bar and swallowed it with the drink. His body shivered, then warmth spread from his abdomen through his limbs and bones.
The sympathetic and parasympathetic systems harmonized, transmitting energy to every organ and muscle. The human body's operating mechanism, evolved over generations, was at work.
Luo Nan's body worked like any other, but his absorption and digestion were five to ten times more efficient. His pale face regained color in seconds—an effect of five years of rigorous training using his grandfather's notes.
The core concept of his grandfather's theories was known as Formatting—a philosophical system dividing the universe into three levels: Self, Society, and Heaven and Earth. Each had its own Formatting, expressing the essence of existence, function, and mortality. Complex interactions occurred constantly between the levels.
Luo Nan could only focus on Self-Formatting, the foundation of everything. It coordinated his organs and systems, digested nutrients, stored energy, and even nourished the mind. Following his grandfather's notes, he had stimulated his nervous system, gradually evolving the Vessel—the early structure of Self-Formatting.
He had gained abilities such as enhanced digestion, rapid recovery, and mental communication—bonuses to the true value: the transformation of Self-Formatting itself. Any disruption to the Vessel could have catastrophic consequences.
Through the window, he observed the chaotic city outside. The AI warned: "Magnetic track ahead damaged. Switching routes."
Ahead, the viaduct where danger struck was blocked by crowds and media. West of the viaduct, devastation reigned: 200-story buildings reduced to rubble, dust rising, flames flickering through the haze—a scene reminiscent of Third World War missile strikes. Eastward, the metropolis thrived undisturbed.
Powerful impact, limited range… if this was an earthquake, Luo Nan could only scoff.
He accessed the car's full-angle HD recordings, replaying the moment when he and Xie Junping hung over the collapsed bridge. Every frame preserved minute details: flames, air ripples, and the impending blast that nearly ended them.
Using the projection system, he immersed himself in the crisis, dragging Xie Junping to face the epicenter. Every color and motion flowed seamlessly.
Then, Luo Nan opened his notebook and began sketching. Layer by layer, he formed a shadowy humanoid outline, distorted and unnatural, its head a mess of crisscrossing lines. The aura was ruthless, demonic.
He paused, adjusted details, and exaggerated the outer regions with jagged strokes. It now resembled a hellish creature, wrapped in yin and poisonous flames, ready to descend upon the world.
Under the dim light, Luo Nan stared at the screen. His heart skipped a beat. The burning wraith seemed poised to leap from the flexible e-ink surface at any moment.