If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, Mo Ling never would have believed such a scene could be real:
A group of Abyssal Creatures, lined up to pick up their packages.
"Where's my package?"
"Sign here."
"Okay."
...
These Abyssal Creatures, some ferocious, others bizarre, all abided by the Sky-Shuttle's rules to claim their packages.
After receiving their packages, most of them couldn't wait to open them on the mirror-like surface nearby.
Upon seeing the contents, they would all tremble with excitement.
Not all of the races picking up packages could speak human languages, but the robot was fluent in each of their native tongues.
To a machine, a new language was just another set of data.
The line was long, and the races at the back had to wait for a significant amount of time. Yet, none dared to cause trouble. They all obeyed a strange sort of etiquette, shuffling forward slowly and unhurriedly.
This was not the Sea of Creation that Mo Ling had imagined.
