"Gutmann, I need you to do me a favor. Check my private messages to see if there are any from Dimon. I don't even know where he is or how he's doing now."
Rusell leaned on the table and opened the light screen.
Ming flipped through the messages:
[Dimon2: Rusell, are you okay now? I haven't seen your reply to my messages for a long time. Your eyes can't see anymore, can they? I didn't expect the sequelae to be so severe.]
[...]
[Dimon2: I have left Section 54, and now I'm in Alien City 1342. The people living here are like us. I've finally found a sense of identity.]
[Dimon2: I'm doing very well now, but I don't understand why people have to kill each other. I don't understand...]
[Dimon2: Are you doing well? We alien beings might really be aliens. After many things, I understand that only by continuously becoming stronger can you keep those dirty people away and dare not approach...]
