Near the transport vortex of District 12, people in uniforms stood with guns, their muzzles aimed at the ground.
Along the red-carpeted welcome avenue, there were carriages adorned with fresh flowers waiting.
People's gazes were all directed towards one direction—that was an extremely tall building, with a regular plan like a rectangular prism, its lights shining through the small squares.
On the displayed screen, the human future self-rescue conference had already entered its dispersal stage. Some chose to stay for the banquet, others opted to leave directly. Those who left directly would take a welcome carriage back to the vicinity of the transport vortex.
At this moment, the screen showed a young man in a white suit, bathed in light, smiling as he said farewell to others.
"Isn't Number One Player staying for the banquet?" voices of regret came from the screen.