Back to the Blast That Took Them Both

When Jeremiah Jenner, an academician from a research lab, has bombs strapped to him by a malicious criminal, I know that I can save his life by cutting the right wire.

But my husband, Callum Johnson, keeps pinning my hand down with all his might. He tells me that I should wait for his crush, Shirley Gibson, to arrive so that she can save the day for once.

This was what happened in my previous life.

Thanks to Shirley's mistakes, the timer's countdown decreased from ten minutes all the way down to ten seconds.

I was the one who had to shove her away and cut the triggering wire based on my experience. That was how I saved Jeremiah's life.

Shirley, on the other hand, was so frightened that she passed out on the spot. She became the laughingstock of the entire squad, which led to her leaving the squad due to depression.

Callum didn't say a single word. Instead, he dispatched me to the border as a spy.

On the day my mission was supposed to be wrapped up, Callum got in contact with me via a secretive channel. Then, he leaked my coordinates to my enemies on purpose.

"Couldn't you just let Shirley play the hero for once? Since you like showing off that much, then you might as well stay as a heroine forever in this place!"

The next thing I knew, I felt a bullet piercing through my chest. My enemies had me surrounded immediately before burning me alive, resulting in my death.

As I breathed my last breath, I saw Callum embracing Shirley while watching me being licked hungrily by the flames from a long distance away. There was nothing but satisfaction in his eyes.

When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the scene where the bombs are set to be removed. Slowly, I put down the pliers in my hand.

Fine. I won't steal Shirley's thunder this time.

I'd like to see how the golden couple can maintain their bombastic, passionate relationship in a place that's about to be blown apart.

"You're to cease your actions right now, Hope Linwood!" Callum Johnson, my husband, yelled.

I then heard the deputy commander's bark through the comms. "You're the only shot we have since the bomb disposal robot was hit by heavy interference. The assault team can't find a sniper position!"

I raised my gaze and looked coldly through the blast-proof mask at Callum. He was holding my wrist in a death grip. I could see that his eyes were brimming with unmistakable disgust as he said, "I told you to wait for Shirley, the primary figure of this operation."

It was happening all over again—just like in my past life.

I looked at the red digits on the bomb's timer—09:43—and turned my gaze toward the silver-haired academician bound to the chair with a gag in his mouth, shaking with terror.

I then looked at Callum before I pried his grip from my wrist, finger by finger. I said calmly as I stepped back, "I'll wait for her, then."

Callum was visibly taken aback. He must have assumed I would fight him on this, driven by the hostage's safety and my duty as a police officer. He had his rebuttals ready, prepared to call me "selfish" and "jealous of Shirley's expertise".

He looked on in surprise as I simply moved to the corner, standing there like a spectator. He only looked surprised for a split second before his expression turned into one full of disdain. "You've at least come to your senses, I guess."

In that instant, over the comms, the deputy commander yelled, "Have you lost your mind, Callum? How could you use this situation to let your lover show off when lives are at risk?"

Callum directly disconnected the deputy commander's comms and let out a cold huff. "What a nuisance!"

It wasn't long before a woman in a high-end custom suit and three-inch high heels arrived with an entourage. It was none other than Shirley Gibson, Callum's sweetheart and a theoretical prodigy fresh from abroad.

She didn't even bother wearing any protective gear, carrying her dainty toolbox gracefully as if heading to a high-society dinner.

"Is this it? It's much simpler than I expected," Shirley said as she glanced around the chaotic scene before looking at me in the corner provocatively.

"It's been a while, Ms. Linwood. I heard you're still on the front line. It must be quite taxing—unlike me. After winning a few awards and publishing a few papers abroad, I was specially recruited back."

She walked up to the bomb, putting on a professional front as she studied it. "It's an old-school setup—a standard pressure plate and dual timer trigger. I've handled hundreds of these on the simulator."

Shirley's voice, transmitted through the small microphone, was clearly heard by everyone in the command center.

A few of the younger team members whispered to one another, "Shirley makes it sound so effortless. Is she for real?"

I crossed my arms and watched in silence. I knew that the fuse was a complex, multi-layered trap, which I'd never encountered before, though Shirley just called it old-school. I was also aware that one wrong move would trip the secondary power and detonate it instantly.

In my past life, I was in this very spot, watching Shirley cut the most deadly red wire.