Earlier.
Late at night, before dawn.
After witnessing a night of unceasing conflict, Ai Qing finally looked away from the screen.
"If my estimate is correct, then after showing his strength tomorrow, Solomon should issue us an ultimatum, shouldn't he?"
"He won't tolerate a threat like us," she said. "Either submit to him, or be destroyed."
Beside her, Huai Shi looked up from his huge bowl of noodles and asked vaguely, "So we strike first tonight?"
"Only if we can deal a fatal blow."
Ai Qing turned back and glanced at the rapidly streaming data on the screen. They had searched all of London, yet found no trace of Solomon.
He had already taken precautions.
Just as Ai Qing had no doubt that if she dared open the window or draw the curtains, a sniper's red dot would land on her forehead.
Granted, Solomon might have been the strongest among them, but now he had become their greatest weakness. He would not expose himself easily, nor would he give Ai Qing a chance to lock onto his whereabouts.
Unlike that rabble, the people he led did not fear death.
Or rather, perhaps it was precisely because they did not fear death that they had survived the battlefield?
Thus, they would not fear sacrifice either. Sacrifice was a virtue bestowed upon them by the Present Realm.
They were the perfect tools of the Present Realm.
And now, the tools were weeping blood and howling, seeking to change everything.
Only when they became enemies could one understand how troublesome it was to oppose people like them.
If Solomon did not die, they would not concede. If they did not die, Solomon would not give up.
They were one whole.
Like iron.
"At present, there are two possible solutions."
"First, find someone powerful