"Red Star's ambassador has sent another note verbale. They have lodged a new round of protests and demand that we immediately order both sides to cease fighting."
"Reply that we still can't get in touch."
Somewhere in Wanjing, as time passed, the incident was becoming increasingly complicated—and increasingly politicized.
Yet the diplomatic protest was merely the routine business of the third day, and the response from this side was just as utterly insincere.
But no one had expected that this "small local conflict" would drag on into its third day, with the fighting having already lasted over ninety hours.
"I've met Lu PingAn. He looked ordinary, unremarkable. And he really was young—not some Old Monster who had regained his youth. His aura was youthful and lively, as though newly born."
"I didn't expect it either. Back at the First Wave meeting, both the intelligence department and the forecasters unanimously insisted that Lu PingAn would lose, though he should be able to escape. Their only dispute was how many hours he could hold out. Even the most optimistic estimate was under six hours."
When high-end combatants fought, it was difficult to determine life or death. Both sides had too many means of preserving their lives, and most battles ended with one side losing and fleeing.
And if both sides were Life-type beings, the hardest to kill, they could destroy an entire city and still both remain perfectly fine.
In truth, judging that he would not be instantly killed was already giving Lu PingAn a great deal of credit. It meant Lu Mouren's true strength far exceeded what was on paper; even among high-end combatants, he was someone who could "sit at the table and eat."
But now, as the battle was about to enter its fourth day, and the satellite blueprints