"This..."
Howard Lee suddenly seemed to understand what this evening party was all about, secretly swallowing saliva, staring straight at the scene in front of him, and murmured, "Mr. Jacob, is this really a place we can come without spending money?"
"Generally speaking, it's not possible."
Scar Dog picked up the wine glass and took a light sip, sighing, "But using some special methods, it is. These aliens really deserve to die, throwing us into the Battle of All Races, fighting to the death, almost wiping us out."
"They are enjoying themselves."
"Mr. Jacob, when do we start?"
"Wait a moment."
Kerr Cowell calmly shook the wine glass in his hand, leaning on the sofa, and looked lazily at the crowd under the dim light: "Observe for a while longer, if we move too hastily, it's easy for things to go wrong."
"Alright."
...
In another corner of this large hall.