Over a thousand steps.
In reality, Veteran would probably have needed to stop and rest twice along the way.
But in the game, when he stepped onto the final stair, he was so relaxed that he was not even out of breath.
Looking at the elderly man in golden power armor waiting for him before the great hall, Veteran glanced back down the stairs at the densely packed figures and torches below, now nearly shrunk to dots, and could not help clicking his tongue in surprise.
At that moment, a calm and kindly voice drifted over.
"My name is Razer."
"I... am Pangolin." Drawing his gaze back from behind him, Veteran looked again at the old man in power armor. Unable to suppress his curiosity any longer, he asked, "May I ask a presumptuous question?"
"My age?"
The old man fixed him with a wise gaze, as though he had seen through his thoughts.
Veteran nodded and asked directly.
"How old are you?"
Razer slightly raised his eyes and stared at the towering archway, pondering for a moment before speaking.
"In Year 42 of the Wasteland Era, we captured the Villant laboratory under the Reconstruction Committee, obtained the Velanders' complete genetic source code, and finally took control of our own destiny. We gained the independence and freedom we had long dreamed of."
"It was also then that Marshal Julius personally cut my umbilical cord and lifted me from a shattered incubation tank... You can do the math."
After hearing the old man's words, Battlefield Atmosphere Team froze, utterly stunned.
If he remembered correctly, it was now Year 214 of the Wasteland Era.
Which meant...
This old guy was already 172 years old?!
That age might have been nothing in a fantasy game, but this game was simply too realistic. He