"Professor..."
After a long while, Ren Feng slowly raised his head and spoke, his face full of remorse.
"It was my fault."
"I was too eager for results."
Before Lü Yongchang could respond, Zhang Zhengqing, who stood beside Ren Feng, abruptly raised his head and said, "No, no, no, it was my fault."
"I was also responsible for how things turned out."
Seeing the two competing to take the blame, Lü Yongchang quickly coughed and interrupted their argument.
"Ahem!"
"One of you is the chief of the Proxima Centauri Academy of Sciences, and the other is the Head Councillor of the Proxima Centauri Human Union. Both of you certainly bear responsibility for the failed reforms."
"So stop fighting over who takes the blame. It's pointless."
Lü Yongchang narrowed his eyes slightly and stared straight at the Holographic Projection before him. "Our immediate priority is for you to tell me exactly what kind of event could have reduced the population of Proxima Centauri human civilization to such a number!"
"Was it a natural disaster or a man-made catastrophe?"
"Was the technology itself flawed? Or... was it caused by war?"
Lü Yongchang's words put an end to their efforts to divvy up the blame.
A trace of sorrow flashed through Ren Feng's eyes.
He was right.
No matter how they divided the blame, as the leaders of Parliament and the Academy of Sciences, both of them bore inescapable responsibility.
And so.
He drew a deep breath and began recounting the details.
Beside him, Zhang Zhengqing occasionally added a few remarks.
Earth Calendar year 2340.
City Three, on the surface of Proxima Centauri.
A news report was playing on every corner of the city's streets.
In the holographic footage, a beaming news presenter spoke in fluent, standard Mandarin, his voice brimming with