Outside, the battle was raging.
Deep within the base, in a lavishly decorated room, Peter King was sitting in front of a computer, staring at the screen without blinking.
"The internet really is a wonderful thing! The things inside are truly profound!"
"Marvelous! Truly marvelous!"
He occasionally praised out loud.
He was completely captivated by the internet, occasionally lighting a cigarette, exhaling smoke, that faint melancholy making him feel quite at ease.
Suddenly, there was a series of loud knocks on the door.
"Ancestor, something's wrong! Something's really wrong! That group of old Daoists from Mount Sterling are attacking!"
The door was pushed open, and a man rushed in, shouting loudly.
Peter King froze for a moment.
Then, he shot up, cursing, "Damn it, how did those old Daoists find this place? Are they bloodhounds?!"
The man replied sheepishly, "Ancestor, we don't know, they just showed up out of nowhere, catching us off guard. It's a fierce battle now!"
