Wu Yong was speechless, his emotions complex.
He had prepared himself mentally to sacrifice his future prospects, even everything, for his sense of justice, only to be thoroughly criticized by Mo Zhenting.
"Young people often harbor fantasies, thinking that important figures are cold-blooded and gloomy, while the lower classes are suppressed and discarded like consumables, as if the whole world is a dark forest that requires them to shine and make their voices heard."
Mo Zhenting's expression was emotionless, but his tone was dripping with sarcasm, causing Wu Yong to bow his head in shame.
"I recognize your sense of justice and your determination to uphold the honor of the Seventh Battle Group. But this does not mean you are without fault. Reporting a superior as a subordinate is a transgression.
If word gets out, a seed of suspicion will be planted within my Wind Scythe Sequence Army, posing a risk of division. Therefore, you must also be punished.
Can you accept this?"
