latent syndrome.

Although dawn had dawned, the nuclear winter that had engulfed the world was still looming, only to tear apart the curtain of darkness as the two men fought.

From the gaps in the clouds, streamers of light pass through the gaps in the sky.

"You are a monster."

"What on earth has kept you going for so long?"

Half of Arnold's face was burning, and the characters that traced the original page were aching. Because they were imitations, they hadn't disappeared, but in this gap of time, they brought him endless pain.

"I should be asking you this question."

The body of the chain saw was even more dilapidated, the flesh and blood at the waist was completely hollowed out, leaving only the already somewhat distorted spine supporting the upper body full of scars.

For some reason, even though the chain saw was already at the pinnacle of Gu refining in the entire wasteland, it couldn't easily defeat the man in front of him.

At first, Chainsaw thought he was a PT-type infected person, but after some researchers judged, he was fundamentally different from it.

It wasn't until the wheel of fortune began to turn that Chainsaw realized that he was indeed the Infected.

Just hinting at the world.

Drawing power from the abyss of different space, the power to crack the surface erupts from the chain saw body.

Although the chainsaw has been fighting with his life, Arnold has not shown any ability from the beginning to the end. He has always used the sandbag-like terrifying body that has no pain, no life and death, and all attacks are like a mud cow into the sea. All the infected people in the world are not of the same order of magnitude, just relying on the additional physical fitness hinted at, they will far exceed everyone.

And he just used a completely ordinary revolver to defuse the chainsaw's offensive one by one.

Seeing that the chain saw is still repeating its old tricks, drawing inexhaustible power from different dimensions, Arnold is disdainful.

"Don't you have any new tricks?"

"Or you never try to figure out the causal logic."

"You're not powerful, Chainsaw."

"It is the abyss that gives you strength, and the abyss connects us all."

"Are you trying to knock it down with the product it bestows on you?"

Even in the face of the oncoming offensive, Arnold remained unmoved. The steel chainsaw that was uprooted from the depths of the ground was like a meat grinder hell. The continuous wringing of the sky thunder, shattering the canyon, shaking the mountains, and the noisy hum made the space begin to be deformed by the sound waves.

The swirling strangulation curtain, which seemed to be used to slaughter the dismembered Titan, blocked the beam of light in the sky gap, shrouding Arnold in darkness again.

"This is your fame."

"Use this to gain a foothold in the last days."

Arnold was unmoved. He once heard the first person in the combat catalog lament that human will is so strong. Some people, the more they resist, the longer he will follow like a gangrene.

Just as human beings are afraid of their creations, artificial intelligence, unparalleled learning ability and a kind of computing power that is incomparable to flesh and blood, it makes human beings panic.

The abyss is also afraid of such products.

Amid suffering and madness, the willpower can rival the gods, the ultimate madman. …

"A transcendent person who has been slaughtered from the wasteland to the top."

"Let me take a look at your size."

The violent sea of ​​strangulation, like a huge wave, is like a march of death on the ground, rushing towards Arnold.

Arnold had to get serious, and took off his Fedora hat, revealing thick, medium-length curly hair, a wrinkled forehead, and incomparably plain, strangely attractive golden eyes.

His hint is the most common, ordinary, and even the most useless hint in the Tarot power system used by scholars of the underground world.

All of them, without exception, have this hint, no matter how tough the mind is, they can't break through the shackles of the essence, and the C-level infected person who has reached the standard of the countermeasure bureau is already the limit.

But Arnold insisted on arriving, surpassing all the infected in the combat catalog, surpassing Hugo, also surpassing White, and Aogu, Heinrich, these terrifying and extraordinary people.

It also surpassed Luca, and also surpassed Oboro, standing at the top of the entire pyramid of infected people.

control.

The messenger of God holds the material holy grail in his left hand and the spiritual holy grail in his right hand. They keep pouring water on each other with the holy grail, trying to find a balance.

Arnold has found it.

Integrate the entire ancient history of mankind in the body, devote yourself to the infinitely violent future, and be in countless presents.

formless.

Run through fate.

Annihilation of reality.

Realize fantasy.

The strongest infected person, none of them.

click...

The crisp sound of the left wheel turning, bang.

After everything was over, in an instant, the sky was shattered, revealing the magnificent extraterrestrial star gathered by the abyss.

There is no sound, no sound and no shape, just where the thoughts reach.

balanced.

All things return.

No one can resist the whole ancient history, and the final end.

In this carnival of eternal doom, a good end was achieved.

The chainsaw regurgitated blood from his mouth, and fell to his knees with a plop. The blazing sun that had not been seen for many years was scorching on the top of his head, and the already dilapidated upper body was splashing with blood.

But he couldn't hear anything, only the infinite trance tinnitus, and the man walking slowly in the wind and sand on the Gobi desert, wearing a cracked leather windbreaker with hem swaying in the wild sand.

Perhaps the existence of Arnold proves a point.

No spirit is lacking and pale.

Only pale people.

Or maybe it proves that it is inevitable for all things to return to the ring.

No one can know why he is so powerful, they can only find a balance point in the false speculation and the horrible cruel reality.

"SCT's winning percentage."

"It appears to have gone from 99% to 99.3%."

"Do you have any last words?"

The haze of nuclear winter covered the sky again. In order for the chainsaw to hear him, Arnold grabbed the back of his neck and tore off the spine. Only half of the body with the head attached was lifted more than two meters away from him. The majestic stature hovers at a height.

There was some unwillingness in the dying eyes of the chain saw, in the torrent of fate.

"It turns out that I only have 0.3% of the value."

"What is the remaining 0.7%?"

Chainsaw asked him the last question, he couldn't even spit out blood from his mouth, his mouth skin was dry and cracked, and his eyes gradually lost focus. …

Even the world.

A strict world full of rationality and order is no match for the so-called return of all things.

For those who are about to die.

Arnold answered his question without hesitation.

"Corresponding to two people respectively."

"As for the last remainder."

"I personally believe in fate."

Arnold stopped talking nonsense and pulled the revolver hammer.

At this moment a voice came.

He has gone through the sacrifice and knows all the right steps.

Human beings have unlimited potential.

When he sacrifices infinitely, even if he can't consume infinity, he only knows the correct steps in the end.

"And I personally think that statistics and probability are useless knowledge created by useless people."

"I don't believe the world is pseudorandom."

"There are only two possibilities."

"50.00%."

"Either all the scumbags get their way, or I'll send you freaks all the way."

Arnold had already fired while the hunchbacked man was speaking.

But under the influence of force.

The revolver miraculously jammed, and the revolver would never jam, but the device that made the magazine wheel turn was strangely worn.