Hell Of Repetitions

'System, do you think I can take on a rank 3?'

[That'd be a quick and painless death. Excellent choice, Host.]

'…I'm glad you don't have a body. If people regularly talked to you, they'd be so pissed off.' Varian shook his head.

The floating classroom he hid in floated aimlessly with the near-endless debris in the chaotic space.

It'd been two hours and they still haven't left. It'd take weeks if they had to thoroughly search everything. But they showed no signs of giving up.

'Didn't I just take one space gem? Why all the fuss? Didn't you have two or three?' Varian complained inwardly as he restrained his breath further.

Neihor and the six rank 2s were quickly scanning through the debris. One rank 2 was slowly approaching him.

Thousand miles.

Hundred miles.

Ten miles.

One mile.

With a creak, a lightning havoc threw the door to the classroom away and checked inside.

"Huh?"