At this moment, Haoran was sitting on the majestic, gilded throne of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, situated deep within the tranquil heart of his independent world, the Genesis Protocol.
The entire world had actually already undergone massive changes.
High above, artificial constellations spun in calculated, mesmerizing orbits, bathing the floating botanical wonder in a soothing, ethereal glow.
Exotic spirit plants, extinct everywhere else in the mortal realms, gently swayed in the synthetic breeze, exhaling dense, purified spirit qi.
Yet, despite the utter majesty of his surroundings, Haoran's mind was far from at peace.
The weight of Ye Hongyan's revelations pressed down on him like an insurmountable mountain, churning his thoughts into a storm of strategic anxiety.
"Not this one either..." Haoran threw a book, and it vanished into motes of light.
He rubbed his forehead, feeling stressed and annoyed. There was no records about these people.
