In the end, Loki was thrown off the train. As for Sylvie, she jumped off after him for the time controller on his person.
Still not quite satisfied, Loki had yet to become serious again. Or rather, this was simply his nature. After getting to his feet, he pointed at the increasingly numerous and massive meteor shower in the sky and said,
"All right, I don't want this."
Clang!
When he turned around, a dagger was already pressed against his throat—
"Give me the time controller!" Sylvie had exhausted the last of her patience. She had had enough of this flamboyant prince.
She did not know what kind of pampered life someone had to live through to develop such a personality.
"Okay, okay, okay—" Loki raised his hands. He understood that this was no joke this time. The dagger was at his throat, and no matter how one looked at it, this was his fault.
But when he conjured the time controller, both of them were dumbfounded.
Hiss—hiss.
The time controller was spewing black smoke and had been shattered beyond recognition.
Loki still wanted to argue that he could fix it, but the moment he shifted it slightly, the thing fell apart completely.
Sylvie looked at Loki in despair. "You're unbelievable."
Yet Loki tilted his head up and stubbornly replied, "That's right, I'm a god!"
"You're a clown. You got drunk on the train!"
"I'm a hedonist." Loki was still being obstinate, trying to excuse himself with the label he took such pride in.
Sylvie gritted her teeth. "I'm the hedonist—I guarantee I understand pleasure better than you do, but I would never sacrifice the mission for it!"
The string of accusations left Loki somewhat embarrassed and angry. There was no doubt that the entire affair was his fault.
But