Newmanda emerged from the bubble with a regretful sigh, the exhaustion of overthinking etched into his face.
"Difficult, so difficult. Even with everything I've learned in my lifetime, I couldn't find a better path. I could only propose a slightly riskier plan, which was incorporated into Plan 002."
The old man sighed in frustration.
"Stop sighing, Newmanda. It's getting a little annoying." The nearest member of the Present World Scholars' Association looked haggard, his gaze vacant.
He looked just like a university student driven mad by research papers, who had raged and struggled until all that remained after the frenzy was the sense that life wasn't worth living.
His brain had been wrung completely dry. At the moment, he was little better than an idiot. His language system still worked, but his logical reasoning system had gone on strike.
"At least you proposed a plan. As for me, after seventy-eight failures, I welcomed my seventy-ninth. Ah, this life of failure."
Another scholar deeply sympathized.
"Yes, I feel like a midwife who's attended dozens of births without a single successful case, with 'guilty of heinous crimes' written all over my face."
The scholars covered their faces and sighed, as gloomy as mushrooms in a corner, unwilling to face anyone.
The Wandering Soul beside them offered some comfort:
"Don't lose heart. It's not over yet. Listen to the others' plans. You're still useful."
Li Fulin, who had emerged from her bubble some time ago, closed her book and cast an indifferent glance at the scholars.
"If reform were so easy, the River of Forgetfulness Rules wouldn't have remained unchanged for centuries.
"The geniuses of the Present World are as numerous as stars in the night. Do you really think you're peerless strategists, utterly unique, born protagonists who were the first to come