"Who are you, some old geezer? What's it got to do with you? Did I ask for your opinion?"
The terminal fell silent at the man's words. I felt my blood boil as this arrogant stranger openly disrespected Michael Ashworth—one of Veridia City's most respected figures. The dangerous heat of anger coursed through my veins, threatening to shatter my composure.
Michael's face remained dignified despite the insult, but I could see how the confrontation was draining his already limited strength.
"Young man," Michael said calmly, "there's no need for hostility. We're simply trying to purchase tickets like everyone else."
The man—who I'd later learn was named Brandon Lee—scoffed and turned back to the ticket seller. "I said I want all the remaining tickets."
"That's impossible, sir," the seller replied nervously. "We need to accommodate all passengers."
Brandon slammed more money on the counter. "Does this make it possible?"
