"Aiden, you heard it. The pilot can't handle this kind of emergency. If I don't at least try, everyone on this plane is going to die." Aiden looked at my face, let out a breath, and slowly let go of my wrist. "I'm going with you." I turned him down immediately. "No. The cockpit has unstable pressure. You might get hurt if you go in." "Then how about taking me instead?" A calm male voice came from behind us. I turned and saw the speaker—one of the werewolves sitting in the back row. He looked to be in his twenties. Sharp features, refined and handsome. He had a pair of striking eyes, with a gentle light in them. "You are?" I looked at him and asked. He smiled politely. "My last name's Jade. You can call me Randall Jade." I asked bluntly, "Why do you want to go with me?" Randall curved his lips into a smile. "Same as you—I have flight experience. I figure, two people handling the controls is better than one." He didn’t seem like he was lying, so I agreed to let him come with me. We rushed into the cockpit. The werewolf pilot was pacing, visibly anxious. When he saw us, his brows furrowed even deeper. "What are you two youngsters doing here?" He frowned at both of us and scolded, "This isn’t a playground. Go back to your seats—now!" I stepped forward and said calmly, "Captain, I have flight experience. Please let me try." "You? Young lady, you can’t be more than twenty-something. This is a commercial jet, not some toy. Go back and sit down." He clearly didn’t believe me, and waved me off impatiently. "You haven’t even let me try. How do you know I can’t do it? Besides, the plane is malfunctioning—we’re headed straight for a crash. Are you really going to let your own assumptions kill everyone on board?" I didn’t care about being polite anymore. The only thing that mattered now was convincing him to let me help. Randall followed up. "Just let her try. At this point, what do you have to lose? For the past two minutes, this plane’s been falling in an uncontrollable spiral. That says enough about your current ability to stabilize the aircraft." Randall wasn’t sugarcoating it. The two pilots flushed with embarrassment and looked away. He was right. They couldn’t fix it, or they wouldn’t have called for help over the intercom. After exchanging a glance, the pilots stood up and made room for us. "Whether this works or not is up to you now. If it doesn’t... well, at least you gave it a shot." One of them patted my shoulder, then Randall’s, and sighed. I didn’t waste time. I sat down immediately and started manually adjusting the controls. Randall stood beside me, tracking our route and the plane’s behavior. "Fuel’s steady. Cabin pressure is stable. So why the hell is this thing still dropping?" I couldn’t figure it out. All the readouts were normal. Why was the aircraft still going haywire? Randall stared at the indicators, silent for a moment. Then he said, "What if the flight path data’s been tampered with?" I looked at him. "You mean someone altered it?" He pointed to the console. "We should be flying toward North City, but the current route has us headed straight into the nearby mountains. Even if we miss them, we’ll still slam into the ground. Either way, it’ll be catastrophic." I hesitated. "But... this is a commercial plane." "And? What difference does that make? All it takes is one top-level hacker. That’s enough to rewrite a flight path." He tilted his head and gave me a look. "Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of hackers?" "Sure I have. But real hackers wouldn’t stoop to this. People with a conscience don’t kill others." I frowned. I had elite-level hacking skills myself. But I’d never use them to do something like this. Randall kept staring at the instruments and muttered, "If we had a hacker who could rewrite the data back, we might still be able to redirect this thing. Then it’d be a lot easier to manually recover the flight path." The second I heard that, I jumped to my feet. I rushed back to the front of the cabin, grabbed my laptop, and started hacking into the Department of Transportation’s flight control system. It took some effort—security was tighter than usual—but I broke through. I located our flight’s data and rewrote the entire route. Not just resetting it, but optimizing it for stability and minimal altitude loss. Once that was done, I rushed back and reengaged the controls. Randall stood next to me, calmly giving instructions. We worked seamlessly together. And unbelievably, the plane really did begin to stabilize. "We did it!" I shouted, watching the readings return to normal. Randall looked at me with gentle eyes and praised, "Yeah. It’s all thanks to you." I gave him a small smile. "If you hadn’t given me the idea and helped guide the operation, I wouldn’t have pulled it off." "Don’t be so modest. Come on, let’s head back. Autopilot can handle things from here." I nodded and followed Randall out of the cockpit, heart still pounding.