"Pillar, can you fucking do it or not? If you can't, I'll take over."
"Fuck you. Shut your goddamn mouth."
"Did you get the news? I heard Commander Wen is dead."
"Dead is dead. He was just a puppet."
Beneath a remote mountain range, a group of Human Race powerhouses crouched at the foot of the mountain. The fat man at the front stared helplessly at a gate forged from special materials.
He kept tapping and knocking at the gate's surface, beads of sweat dripping continuously from his forehead.
Several young men and women stood behind him, keeping watch for him.
The surroundings were pitch-black and silent. Perhaps only scattered pinpricks of starlight illuminated the entire mountain range.
"I'm asking one last time—can you do it or not? Why haven't you finished yet?"
"When you came, you pounded your chest and promised me you'd get it done in three hundred breaths. It's been an hour already. Why isn't it done?"
A woman behind the fat man urged him impatiently.
"Yeah, Fatty, hurry it up. The Demon Race across the entire Sky Garden is patrolling everywhere right now."
"Don't let those demons catch us, or the consequences will be too terrible to contemplate."
The others chimed in one after another.
The fat man's pressure doubled. He stared at the gate before him, his teeth itching with hatred.
"Why the hell would they use this kind of material? Isn't this just bullying an honest man?"
The fat man ground out each word through clenched teeth.
A moment later, he took out all kinds of tools from his Spatial Ring and got back to work, while those standing watch scanned their surroundings with wary eyes.
Time trickled by.
Suddenly, rustling sounds rose from the dense forest around them, making the few who had