Fatty appeared to be deep in thought.
Unaware of her own indiscretion, Fang Xiang maintained her stooping posture, watching Fatty expectantly.
The fleet began to accelerate. A reddish-orange constant star outside the battleship's port window had gradually been left behind, becoming a distant small red dot. Far behind the star, a mottled, diffuse bright nebula quietly hovered in space,
like a... fog of war.
"The Suss Transport Fleet..." Carolina put down the intelligence in her hand and looked up at the middle-aged man with graying hair on the communication screen, hesitantly asking, "Admiral Zhang Pengcheng, what do you think of this intelligence from the command center?"
