Reality, some unknown city or province—a museum.
Yes, the very museum you're thinking of. Its curator's meeting room was where the upper echelons of the History School held their Errata History Meetings.
Although the head of the History School had repeatedly emphasized that this was her lounge and that no one was allowed to dirty the meeting room, no one believed her. They scattered books everywhere, turning the place into a complete mess with papers and screens.
Here, the upper echelons of the History School compiled history into volumes, then proofread the lines of text in those volumes into complete chapters. It could be said that this was the largest intelligence-gathering and exchange center spontaneously formed by players in the game. Every attendee who could appear here was a vice president of the History School.
At that moment, Sun Miao was seated in the first chair on the left side of the long table, scribbling something furiously. The other six seats were likewise occupied by people busy with their own affairs, except for the president seated in the middle at the head.
No one would have guessed that this was how the most serious History School conducted meetings. They seized every second to record history, asking the others for their opinions only when discussion was necessary.
After the room had remained silent for quite some time, Sun Miao paused her writing, flared her nostrils, and looked toward Zhen Xin.
"We've recently recorded a new piece of intelligence concerning Them. I suggest classifying it as 4S confidential. Sharing it during the meeting requires the president's approval. So, esteemed President, do you agree to let me ask for more details about this intelligence?"
Zhen Xin leaned against the back of her chair, lightly tapping the tabletop with her fingers. Looking at Sun