Who is not a warrior these days?

Chapter 479 Big Boss, please save me!

Klein stood at the end of the river of time, endless gray mist swirling between his fingers.

Or rather, at this moment, or at least at this point in time, Klein, who fools history, fate, time, the universe, and the gods, has a proportion in this universe that is comparable to the "beginning"!
In other words, only now, after reaping the entire universe, does Klein have the right to stand before the "beginning"!

At this moment, concepts such as folly, blindness, primordial, beginning, chaos, and disorder seemed to materialize into his being.

He exists far beyond infinite dimensions of time and space, with countless tentacles, tendrils, and hairs wriggling throughout the universe alongside Klein's spiritual threads.

“Dong—dong—” God struck a giant drum made from the core of a galaxy, each beat causing ripples in the structure of spacetime.

The omniscient and omnipotent being, his face ashen, had no choice but to follow Klein's command and play the rhythm of destruction.

"Woo-woo-"

The Celestial Venerable played a flute sculpted from a black hole, its monotonous tone containing a nauseating, primal madness.

Wherever the flute's sound reached, the laws of physics began to collapse, and matter reverted to a quantum state.

The Fallen Mother sings blasphemous hymns at the center of the universe, each lyric reshaping reality.

Lumian Lee dances wildly, each step landing on a rift in time and space, symbolizing the destruction of the old era and the birth of the new.

The four ancient pillars that symbolized the beginning and end of the Lord of Mysteries universe have now become mere puppets in Klein's hands.

The gods who were once part of the order of things are now merely Klein's retinue, dancing wildly in chorus with the four pillars of the universe.

Every god became a puppet in Klein's hands, forced to participate in this ultimate symphony, and arranged into a magnificent cosmic symphony.

Layers of mad shadows twisted and writhed like chaos. In the faint reflections projected by Klein, countless absurd, terrifying, yet indescribably twisted and majestic figures flashed rapidly in the shadows, dancing a joyful and frenzied dance together.

They resemble evil gods, external gods, and old gods... but they are not like true gods.

The roars of the Outer Gods became the drumbeats, and the authority of the gods became the musical instruments.

The radiance of the eternal sun became cymbals, the thunder of the Lord of Storms became timpani, and the treasure trove of knowledge of the god of knowledge and wisdom became a pipe organ…

On the puppet stage of this final battlefield, the gods, under Klein's command, danced in discontinuous and chaotic, frequent and fragmented steps, like the mottled old lines often seen in an old film image.

It was as if he were a god presiding over a grand ceremony on another higher dimension.

They gave everything to the great fool.

One's own thoughts, will, body, and even all the "concepts" that support one's existence are handed over to the great "fool".

Klein stood in the center of the void, his gray mist robes fluttering without wind. He elegantly waved his scepter, each movement precisely guiding this ultimate symphony.

"Fooling!"

Klein waved his hands, and trillions upon trillions of spiritual threads trembled slightly with his will, like the strings of a harp of destiny, influencing all things in the universe, with all phenomena dancing gracefully at his fingertips.

The world-destroying symphony played by the gods struck the original creator, causing spiderweb-like cracks to appear in the universe.

The universe disintegrated like a shattered mirror, and all matter returned to its most primitive particle state.

The structure of spacetime twisted and deformed like crumpled paper, rendering even the most basic laws of physics meaningless. All celestial matter in the material universe was shattered into a soup of particles, and even the boundaries of spacetime began to disappear.

Under Klein's will, the entire universe is like a casual doodle by an abstract painter, with rules clashing and annihilating each other, concepts tearing each other apart, the matter and energy that make up the universe twisting each other, and the time and space that construct the entire universe being torn apart and fragmented!

In such extreme destruction, even the cosmological constant is completely distorted, turning into meaningless gibberish and losing all meaning in maintaining the operation of the universe!
At this moment, in the midst of absurd madness, everything in the world, and even the entire universe, covered by Klein's Fool's Radiance, ultimately returned to the shadow of illusion and nothingness!

An energy torrent shattered and churned the entire material universe into a soup of particles, engulfing hundreds of billions of galaxies and star clusters, and a spacetime storm that wiped out all existence like an eraser swept across the entire universe.

Even the entire universe itself, at this very moment, was broken down into a pot of concentrated chaotic broth under Klein's will!

Under such terrifyingly high temperatures, no substance can survive.

However, this towering figure exists so steadily, remaining steadfastly in this ultimate cosmic destruction scene where matter disintegrates into a soup of particles, spacetime condenses into a scroll, and dimensions curl into a single line.

Yet, in this ultimate scene of utter destruction where nothing remains, the "original creator" still stands silently.

His figure remained motionless in the particle soup, intact in the spacetime scroll, and stable in the curled dimensions.

Like the calm in the eye of a storm, it remains unmoved no matter how turbulent the surroundings are.

Klein frowned slightly.

He sensed that the existence of the "original creator" was like an absolute anchor point, and that no matter how the universe was reorganized, this existence always maintained a kind of transcendent stability.

The gray fog grew even denser under his control, and the symphony of the gods reached its climax.

God shattered the drumsticks, the Celestial Venerable's flute began to evaporate, and the hymns of the fallen Mother Goddess turned into silent screams.

The power of all the gods was extracted to its limit, and the destruction of the entire universe was accelerated to the extreme.

But the "original creator" is still there.

Like an absolute truth written in the deepest part of the universe's source code, no matter how you try to fool the rules or tamper with the settings, this existence cannot be erased.

Klein could sense that this was not a contest of power, but rather a more fundamental existential contradiction.

"Fooling me!!"

Klein unleashed his divine power once more, and with that command, the frenzied symphony suddenly changed its tune.

The Fool's Puppet Show has entered its next chapter, with destruction turning into creation, and the collapsed rules beginning to be reorganized.

The power of the gods was directed in a new direction, the particle soup began to condense, the scroll of spacetime was unfurled anew, and the dimensional lines were straightened and restored.

At the heart of this chaos, the figure of the "original creator" began to tremble slightly for the first time.

"Still not enough?" Klein felt a surge of sixth sense as he realized that even with all his strength, he could only shake the "Initial".

His lips curled into his signature fool's smile.

Since that's the case, then I have no choice but to accept it.
Thinking of this, Hajik cried out to Wang Li without hesitation, "Big Boss, save me, save me, save me, save me..."

(End of this chapter)