GOD'S JEALOUSY IN THEIR LOVE

The sun glared down mercilessly over the bustling Jakarta market, its rays reflecting off the crowded stalls and the throngs of panicked people. The central plaza, usually lively with vendors and customers, was eerily silent, save for the murmurs of dread. A motorcycle, innocuous at first glance, held a sinister truth—it carried an active bomb, a device of destruction that could obliterate the market.

In the midst of this chaos, Sub-Commander Jack, clad in the bulky armor of a bomb disposal suit, knelt before the deadly contraption. Sweat trickled down his face, soaking his skin beneath the helmet as his gloved hands worked deftly but fruitlessly. A fellow soldier approached him with a grave expression.

"Sub-Commander Jack, can you disable it?" Michael asked, his voice betraying a mix of urgency and fear.

Jack glanced back, frustration and desperation etched onto his face. "No! I can't find the receiver, no matter how hard I try. Even the X-ray results are inconclusive. What about Major Sam? Any word from him?"

Michael shook his head. "Nothing. His phone's off. I think we should evacuate the entire market as a precaution."

"Do it," Jack said grimly, his mind racing. "And keep trying to reach him. We need him here. Only he can handle this."

As if summoned by Jack's plea, a low rumble echoed through the air. The crowd parted, their eyes drawn to the piercing roar of a bullet motorbike slicing through the tension like a knife. The rider, a man in his thirties clad in army fatigues, dismounted with practiced ease and strode towards the bomb squad.

Jack turned and immediately recognized the figure. His heart leaped with relief. "Major Sam!"

Sam Brook smirked, his trademark confidence radiating as he approached. "Looks like you lot can't manage without me. What a sorry excuse for a team I have."

Jack sighed, handing Sam the set of instruments. "Where have you been, sir?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Sam quipped before crouching down in front of the bomb. "Now, what do we have here?"

Michael stepped forward hurriedly. "Sir, it looks like a GGO server with a switch, but we can't locate the receiver. X-ray scans aren't showing anything."

Sam nodded thoughtfully. "All right. Good work. Fall back now—I'll take care of it."

"Yes, sir!"

As Sam studied the device, his hands moved with the precision of a surgeon and the ease of a man solving a puzzle... so smooth as if playing an instrument and creating a wonderous music. A newly recruited soldier, Ron Hensley, watched with wide eyes. He bolted forward suddenly, but Michael stopped him.

"What are you doing, rookie?" Michael barked.

"Sir, Major forgot his bomb suit! It's dangerous—he should wear it!" Ron stammered.

Michael chuckled. "Relax, kid. He won't wear it."

"What? But—"

"Just watch and learn," Michael said, his voice tinged with admiration. "That's Major Sam Brook—97 successful bomb diffusions and counting. This will be his 98th. They call him 'The Man Who Cannot Die' for a reason. You know what? I have never seen the fear of dying in his eyes, as if voluntarily wanting to clasp the dreadful hands of death"

Sam worked with an almost nonchalant grace, his face serene, though his eyes gleamed with a strange thrill. After several tense minutes, he made the decisive cut to a yellow wire and exhaled deeply.

"The receiver was hidden inside the RDX, shielded by lead," he explained to Jack and Michael, who rushed to his side.

"That's why the X-ray couldn't detect it!" Jack exclaimed.

"Exactly. Now, open the market. I'm taking two days off—I need some mountain air. Call me only if the world is about to end."

With that, Sam mounted his bike and sped off, leaving the chaos behind.

The mountain air was crisp, biting against Sam's skin as he rode along the winding roads. He stopped by a serene lake nestled amidst the towering peaks, setting up his camp. Night fell, bringing with it a tranquil silence that Sam found both comforting and suffocating.

At dawn, he sat by his campfire, staring at the vast expanse of the mountains. His solitude was broken by the sight of a young woman jogging around the lake. She climbed a large boulder on the opposite shore and, to his astonishment, unzipped her tracksuit to reveal a swimsuit.

Sam watched curiously as she dove into the icy water. A prank? A dare?

"Help! I can't swim! I'm drowning!" she screamed, her voice carrying across the lake.

Sam's initial skepticism gave way to alarm when she disappeared beneath the surface. Without hesitation, he dove into the freezing water, his strong strokes bringing him to her in moments. He hauled her to shore, her body trembling violently from the cold.

She sputtered and coughed, shivering uncontrollably. Sam draped his coat over her shoulders and handed her a cup of tea.

"You're insane!" she snapped, her anger overpowering her gratitude. "I could've died! What kind of soldier are you, standing there and watching while I screamed for help?"

Sam said nothing, his face impassive as he packed his belongings.

"Hey! Are you mute? I nearly died!" she shouted.

Sam ignored her and rode off, leaving her fuming on the lakeshore.

"I won't forget you, dick head!" she yelled after him, her voice echoing across the mountains.