861. Plato

Lu Ban looked over.

There was a middle-aged man.

He stood out remarkably among a group of teenagers in their late teens and early twenties.

His face was sharply chiseled, like ancient Greek sculpture, filled with virile beauty, and his robe was embellished with golden threads, making him even more distinctive. His hair had streaks of gray, and his eyes contained a profound will, like a Black Hole, all too easy for those who met his gaze to sink into and be unable to extricate themselves.

"Saint..."

Lu Ban murmured softly.

"Saints are not troubled by crystal nucleus disease, and their lifespans even surpass those of normal people. It's very common for them to live hundreds of years. This one has lived for more than a hundred years; it's Saint Plato, who is about to retire."

Du Danping explained from the side.

"Is he about to die?"

Lu Ban asked subconsciously.