Zhao Linger was a little embarrassed by the retort, and the atmosphere suddenly became cold. Zhao Min suddenly felt that all the girls present seemed to have a little hostility towards her. Although Zhao Min didn't care about these, she liked to make enemies one by one. If she offended everyone at once and all the sisters didn't talk to her for several days, she would probably be suffocated to death.
Helpless, Zhao Min could only quickly change the subject: "Okay, you bunch of vixens, you just know how to make trouble with me, I'm really afraid of you, let's talk about the Persian Ming Cult. The Persian Ming Cult may really have hundreds of people with good skills. Those people are indeed a force that cannot be underestimated on the battlefield, but we have a lot of masters on our side as well. Wuji has already said this just now."
"Secondly, in such a large-scale military operation, a few experts may not be able to play any role."
"In recent years, I have actually been thinking about a problem, that is, the era of masters may have declined. Look at our military formation, hundreds of cannons, hundreds of thousands of kilograms of explosives. Although these things have existed for a long time, they have been used to the extreme in the Ming army in recent years."
"Among the sisters present, including Wuji, most are masters, but who among you can withstand the impact of ten kilograms of explosives? You can dodge arrows, but who can dodge artillery shells?"
"Masters? Under the hail of bullets, they are just warriors who die a little slower."
"In this battle, all the advantages are on our side. Sisters, relax. I will be the commander-in-chief in this battle. If we cannot destroy Persia, you can chop off my head."
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