After tossing the two people aside, An Ning dusted off her hands and strolled off to chase her backpack.
She wasn't in a hurry. Her spiritual power was tracking it.
The main reason was that her bag only contained a few rock-hard savory pancakes. Even her most valuable item, the water bottle, was in her hand.
The gems from before, as well as the down payment for a house she had withdrawn from the bank, had long been stored away in her space.
It was a habitual action, something she did subconsciously.
Besides, something was off about the man who had grabbed her bag and run off.
He was running incredibly slowly, as if he were deliberately waiting for An Ning to catch up.
When An Ning rounded a corner and saw the thief, she played along and shouted.
"Stop, thief!"
Her cry made the man speed up a little, but in An Ning's eyes, he was still painfully slow.
Still, she didn't pick up her pace. Instead, she pretended to be an ordinary, delicate woman, panting as she ran.
