Only a deathly silence answered him.
The timer on the bomb kept ticking down:
[00:03]
[00:02]
[00:01]
In the final second, all the numbers dropped to zero.
In the stifling, narrow shaft, sweat was already streaming down Charlotte’s forehead. And just as the timer froze on its last second—click!
She found the hidden switch and snapped it off.
In those tense two minutes, Charlotte had tapped into the knowledge base of her microchip and defused the timed bomb with astonishing speed.
But the effort left her lightheaded, her body drained—whether from mental overexertion or the lingering fever, she could hardly keep herself upright.
Meanwhile, outside…
The crowd had backed away, forming a tense circle ten yards from the mouth of the shaft where Darren stood guard. Only he and his two loyal bodyguards remained at the edge.
Darren’s knuckles were white on the rope, his heart pounding in his throat.
Had something gone wrong?
Noah was still screaming at him, voice ragged and desperate, “Dad! Dad! Please, come back! Hurry!”
The shouts dissolved into sobs. Noah had no grasp of time—he only knew the bomb was about to go off, oblivious to the fact that the two minutes had already passed.
When Xena arrived, intending to check on the situation, the sight before her made her eyes widen in shock.
Noah spotted her and clung to her as if she were his last hope, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Mom, the bomb’s about to go off! Why isn’t Dad coming back? Please, make him come back, please!”
Xena couldn’t even find her voice. She knew her bomb was set for only two minutes—if Noah was already out, by all rights, the shaft should have exploded!
Why hadn’t it?
Was there a malfunction?
Her heart twisted as she shot another look toward Darren.


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