I Really Didn't Mean To Be The Saviour Of The World

Chapter 416: Chapter 282:1 Just Like The Way You Look

When You Haven’t Seen The World 3

Translator: 549690339

If something big was happening and we didn’t even know what it was, that would be quite embarrassing.

As a result, at least seventy to eighty people had arrived.

Most of them were elderly men and women, with a few younger ones wearing suits and leather shoes, mostly well-known university presidents or scholars.

Although the VIPs had arrived, the airport still had its rules.

The cramped airport staff member’s face turned red with anxiety as they tried to stop the huge crowd at the entrance of the VIP lounge.

This master’s degree-holding airport worker happened to be a doctoral student at Kangton University themselves and recognized their own president in the crowd.

Poor and rotund President Linton, who seemed so dignified on campus, was now squished among the old people, holding his coat tightly as if more careful than the president himself, fearing he might bump into someone around him.

Looking around, she saw many familiar faces with recognizable names.

What’s going on?

Has the Minister of Science and Technology come to Boston?

But it wouldn’t be possible for these big shots to come and greet him like this!

Having one or two of them there would already be more than enough.

What made it more troublesome was that these people now all wanted to get into the VIP room.

If she let them in, she would lose her job.

If she didn’t let them in, who knew what would happen?

The staff member looked at her supervisor in the distance with pleading eyes.

Seeing that they could not hide, the supervisor swallowed and plucked up the courage to come forward, “Excuse me, everyone, please show your boarding passes.”

Of course, they recognized these people too, but pretending not to was the wisest choice.

Raulsen and others were indeed taken aback, having come on such short notice, they had completely forgotten about this detail. After all, they never expected Harrison Clark would “hide” in the VIP lounge.

If he was in the general waiting area, they could have directly surrounded him, but he was in the VIP lounge.

Without a boarding pass, barging in was against the rules.

But it wasn’t possible for so many people to casually buy business-class tickets, so the situation ended up at a deadlock.

Seventy to eighty people gathered at the door, some started calling the person in charge of the airport, while others tried to reason with the supervisor and the staff who were blocking the entrance, claiming that this was a matter of great importance in the global technology community and that they should not be blocking the wheels of history.

As for what exactly was going on, even those speaking about the “big matter” didn’t fully understand the situation or how significant it was, but seeing Linton so anxious, it must be a big deal.

In any case, since so many people had come, even if the matter was once minor, it had now become a major one.

Some people were waving their arms, shouting to Harrison Clark, who was about twenty meters away inside the lounge.

Actually, Harrison had noticed this group of people long ago, but the movie in front of him was about to reach its climax.

Looking at the movie progress bar, he thought, “Oh, there are ten minutes left, just enough time.”

Harrison turned up the volume and continued to watch with great interest.

He had already anticipated that the Madman’s Conjecture Collection 2.0 would change the situation, but he thought it would take a few days to ferment, and then he would sit back and relax in Los Angeles, waiting for these fish who took the bait to cast themselves into his net.

But he didn’t expect to be intercepted at the airport, which was quite a surprise for him.

People were coming and going in the airport hall, and more and more passers-by were gradually taking notice of the situation here.

Some passengers, who were originally planning to enter the VIP lounge, also recognized the identities of these elderly roadblock people.

They were both nervous and excited, hesitating to approach as they racked their brains to consider how to butter up these people and leave a good impression.

However, they couldn’t help but feel curious.

Why did this group of high-ranking academic figures whose schedules were normally fully booked come flocking here?

Finally, ten minutes later, when the airport management personnel could no longer stand the pressure and decided to let them in, Harrison stood up slowly.

He looked over here with a surprising expression, walking over while taking off his headphones.

As he got closer, Harrison saw Raulsen and Ethan Evans among the crowd and scratched his head, “Everyone, what’s going on?”

Onlookers who had been stealthily watching the situation were all taken aback.

What the hell?

Who is this young Chinese guy?

A hundred thousand whys surged in people’s hearts.

Only a few, well-informed people gradually recognized Harrison Clark.

The guy who wrote songs, saved people with a flying wing on a crashed helicopter, and wrote the Madman’s Conjecture Collection— the Chinese man.

Although they acknowledged his achievements, there was no reason for these academic giants to be so enthusiastic about him.

No one cared about what the crowd was thinking as Raulsen desperately tried to put together the right words, attempting to resolve the “misunderstanding” from the previous day as quickly as possible.

He leaned in, “Mr. Clark, about that…”

“Please be straightforward. I’m about to go back to the dark academic swamp and cast my pearls before swine. If you’re trying to invite me to join you, don’t bother, as I’m not up to the task.”

The atmosphere became somewhat awkward.

However, these people did not know that Harrison was actually speaking from the bottom of his heart.

He had all these things in his head, but he had never done a day of scientific research in his life. If he were to go into a lab and wear a white coat, he might cause an explosion just by touching an instrument. If he were to lead a project team without the help of capable assistants, it would be difficult. And if he were to lecture someone, he might even inadvertently reveal twenty-first-century knowledge and completely collapse.

He truly wasn’t up to it.

But others didn’t see it that way and assumed he was still angry.

Obviously, Harrison had used two Conjecture Collections to sketch out a clear and tangible scientific territory.

At the moment, the key to this territory was entirely in his hands, and others had no chance to take control. All they could do was absorb the nutrients from the oil and water he leaked through his fingers..