Unlike before, Lu PingAn's life in this foreign land began with unusual calm.
He did not choose to start out on the front lines, did not step into the war zone from the outset, and did not immediately determine the focus of development. When the team entered this strange period of calm, he was, more or less, losing money every day.
"If I keep losing money like this, I'll have to take the bus. Uh, that joke probably doesn't exist in this era yet. Everyone mainly travels by bus anyway."
Lu Mouren lived peacefully, drinking tea, chatting, and watching others train bitterly every day. He was utterly carefree.
"It looks like things are going much more smoothly than expected. Did I underestimate their racial attributes? Or did I simply underestimate their resolve?"
As he watched the Long-Hand Tribe members train until their blood vessels literally burst, even Lu PingAn could not help but marvel at how intensely competitive they were. Dozens were carried away every day. If not for the competence of his medical team, people would have died during training every day.
He did not ask about their miserable experiences, nor could he be bothered to visit the front lines. He merely skimmed through the intelligence and recordings sent to him before passing them on to others.
"Too miserable. I don't want to watch. As long as we're locked in as mortal enemies, that's enough. I can't be bothered to empathize with them and let it affect my judgment."
How miserable were the front lines? Probably truly, exceptionally miserable.
Of the three great enemies, the Abyssal Swarm needed no explanation. They could devour all Biomass. Every mortal species was their nourishment, as well as a provider of Biomass for newborns.
The swarm commanders of these insects were actually quite