"Cough, cough..." Ye Luo coughed twice and slowly rose to his feet. "Our Zerg have only just advanced to a level-three civilization..."
"Who acknowledged that..." Stanley interrupted with a cold laugh. Though his voice was soft, everyone present possessed extraordinary senses. Who could have failed to hear him?
A flash of cold light passed through Ye Luo's eyes. Farol fixed his gaze tightly on Ye Luo and shook his head, signaling him not to act rashly. Ye Luo decided to give Farol some face. "Furthermore, we just fought a major battle against Kaimelena of the Barton Starfield and the Wager System, losing quite a few warships..."
"Hehe, to be precise, you lost nearly all your destroyers, didn't you?" This time, Stanley put particular emphasis on the words "destroyers."
Ye Luo stopped speaking and turned to look at Stanley, his gaze growing dangerous. But before Farol could smooth things over again, Stanley actually raised both hands in surrender. Grinning, he said, "Sorry, sorry. Look at this rotten mouth of mine. Hehe, go on. I'm very curious—after losing several destroyers, how many destroyers does the Zerg intend to send as the main force for this war..."
The word "destroyers" was emphasized once more.
Ye Luo did not intend to continue. In fact, his right hand had already silently reached for the armrest of the chair behind him. Farol suddenly placed both hands on the table, his left hand slowly rubbing the ring on his right, his face full of pained reluctance.
Ye Luo revealed a strange smile and removed his right hand from the armrest. For the sake of that second bottle of divine nectar, Ye Luo decided to give Farol face a second time. "Our forces have deployed three cruisers, ten destroyers, five hundred thousand Blade-Arm Mutalisks, five hundred thousand Vipers,