At present, the expeditionary force had roughly settled on a plan: build bases and administer vaccines simultaneously, preserving as many survivors in this world as possible. Save one more if they could save one more.
Once the bases were complete, they would begin relocating the survivors. They would rescue all those who were easy to save first; as for the rest, they would work hard to stockpile resources and climb the tech tree, letting the Virus Mother experience a hundred millionth of Earth's shock and awe.
The expeditionary force's thinking was clear. After discussion, no one obsessed over achieving a perfect ending with a perfect rescue. They only intended to do everything within their power.
With this apocalyptic world, and their experience with raid instances, they all knew that the longer they delayed, the more unfavorable things would become.
In war, speed was paramount. If they truly dragged things out until the Virus Mother caught on, that would be a colossal disaster.
As for the Demon Hunter, looking at the virtual light screen before him and the constantly scrolling world and regional channels, he rather liked this atmosphere of everyone pulling together.
Back when he had been in raid instances, his experience had actually been terrible.
Among the teammates he had matched with, there were certainly normal people, but there were also plenty of bad apples. Some looked down from on high, convinced they were saviors and arrogant beyond measure. Others treated it entirely like a game and acted with reckless abandon. There were even idiots who thought the monsters were cool, directly tried to communicate with the Virus Mother, and planned to stop being human and transcend humanity...
Such encounters had even made the Demon Hunter—a tough man who had long since witnessed the dark side and absurdity of