"You've lost," Xu Wuyi said, retracting his finger.
Wang Mo steadied himself. He looked at the scorch mark on his shoulder, fell silent for a few seconds, then nodded. "I'm thoroughly convinced."
Three spars, three losses.
And they were losses without a shadow of a doubt.
The atmosphere in the conference room grew a little heavy.
Zhang Meng, Li Wei, and Wang Mo all understood clearly that the gap in strength between them and Xu Wuyi was too vast. It wasn't a gap that could be bridged by experience or expertise. It was a fundamental difference in level.
Hong Nianyi walked into the center of the room and looked at the three of them. "We've all seen your skills and specialties. Thank you for your participation."
She paused, her tone calm. "As for the candidates for this mission, we need some more time to consider. Please return for now. If there's any news, I will contact you through the intranet."
It was a polite rejection.
All three understood.
