One hour later—at the official space gate of Specter Valley Planet.
The checkpoint was as noisy as ever, filled with guards lounging on chairs, weapons leaning lazily against the walls, while others dozed with their arms crossed. The atmosphere was one of practiced boredom; after all, who would dare cause trouble under the Syndicate's nose?
"Hey," one of the guards muttered, a World Cataclysm cultivator with a scar across his cheek, shaking his crossed leg impatiently. "Don't you think killing her was a little hasty? I mean, that little shepherdess girl..." He tilted his head back, speaking in a tone of idle curiosity rather than concern. "I meaaaan~ she was still hiding a large number of planets cultivated into specter farms. Wouldn't it have been wiser to squeeze her for answers first?"
