That day, morning, Earth Plane.
"..."
The conference room was thick with smoke. Old Wang sat at the head of the long conference table, the several documents spread before him. He had already gone through them several times.
At last, he impatiently tossed the documents aside, picked up his teacup for a sip, and swept his gaze over the military expert representatives and scientific group representatives seated on both sides of the table. At that moment, they were spraying spit at each other, neither willing to yield nor admit the other was right.
The reason for their dispute was naturally the twenty-two game "invitation codes" their organization had only recently managed to obtain from the game—the question of who should receive those precious slots to enter the game!
After all, there were very few game invitation codes: exactly twenty-two.
Twenty of them had been earned after each Ork war guild completed its mission, with every guild receiving one. The other two were special rewards earned after two player squads discovered two large underground shelters during exploration and successfully helped the base rescue several thousand human survivors.
In short!
These invitation codes were extraordinarily valuable, each worth a fortune. Their organization had forcibly bought them back at nearly twenty million apiece.
Of course, if they had been sold externally, their value would certainly have been incalculable. Plenty of foreign countries and financial conglomerates would have paid astronomical prices for them—billions, even tens of billions—but the state clearly would not permit them to flow overseas, much less allow intelligence to leak. So their organization had forcibly bought every one of them back.
Though the price was indeed rather low, there was no room for bargaining on a matter of principle like this.
However, while all the invitation codes had been secured and