"He's dead," Mu Nianqi noted Tang Zheng's inquisitive look and shook her head, "I only participated in the preliminary round. As for anything about the Holy Land, security doesn't know, and likely no one else does, because all who have gone there have died."
"What was up with that guy of Chinese descent just now?" Tang Zheng suddenly realized how weak and pathetic he was. If the leader of Queen Mu's group and Nuclear Flame were on the same level, then they would have only grown stronger over these past two years. Logically, they should have already gone to the Holy Land by now.
"I don't know, and I'd advise you to give up. In the Trojan Room, survivors are like a drop of water in the ocean; you can't possibly hope to understand this world," Mu Nianqi lost interest in talking, pulled out an air-cushion motorcycle, straddled it, and left the prison.
Tang Zheng mounted the Hell Motorcycle, revved the engine, smashed through a wall, and sped across, with the others following.
