It's always been one thousand light-years per second.
After a long while, Ren Zhong waved his hand, "Stop here, let's wait for Fleet Headquarters, there's no need to go any further back."
"Uncle, what's the matter?"
Sun Ai noticed a certain melancholy in Ren Zhong's tone, a somewhat hollow feeling, seeming slightly desolate.
Ren Zhong shook his head, "It's nothing."
In truth, he was now certain; the moment he flew out of the boundary, he lost his Resurrection Ability.
It happened very suddenly, with no warning, and there were no grand cosmic phenomena to mark the occasion, making him feel as if he had punched hard into cotton despite all the mental preparation.
He reclined in the pilot's seat, fingers gently tapping the armrest.
Moments later, he reopened his notebook, turned to the last page, and stared at the number 7740, losing himself in thought for a long time.
