Thousand-Year Swordsmanship
The moment Gao Gong spoke, everyone present was startled, especially the old String Controllers.
Old Robert, who stood at the head of the group, said in surprise, "General Cybertron, why don't you come sit with us? We're extremely grateful that you rescued us, and we also have many questions we'd like to ask you about."
"There's nothing for you to ask me about," Gao Gong said, shaking his head.
"Gate provided the coordinates, and the signal-receiving device was based on the String Controller civilization's technical support. Even the face-saving part came from Senior Differential Weng. I basically didn't do anything, so you really don't need to thank me so much."
Old Robert was still unwilling to give up. He tried to persuade Gao Gong several more times. Even Newgate, the new String Controller, joined in for a while. Only after seeing that Gao Gong had truly made up his mind did they leave with profuse thanks.
Thus, only Gao Gong and Differential Weng remained in the vacuum of space.
The old man had not said a word just now, but he now looked at Gao Gong with interest.
"Ever since Old Gate died, you seem to have grown much colder toward those descendants of the Strings. In all these thousand years, you seem not to have visited the String Controller civilization even once, have you?"
Gao Gong shook his head. "No. Without Gate as a link, our relationship with the new String Controllers is merely ordinary. Besides, a thousand years have passed in this parallel universe. It's hard to say whether any friendship remains."
"As for these old ancestors of the String Controllers, they're probably more eager to return immediately and take control of this new space civilization. What would I be doing over there except getting in