Infinity: Kill your way through the movie world.

Allen used the broadcasting capabilities of the Earth Diffuse Sensing Network to broadcast his voice synchronously across the entire area.

The sound emanated from the transmission cables buried deep underground, forming a communication layer that covered the entire continent. Everyone who was walking, waiting, or gazing at the crack heard it simultaneously.

The fires on the ground were still burning, but no new fires were lit.

The people who were rushing towards the crack, crowding the platform, and pushing down the fence gradually stopped after Allen's voice disappeared.

Standing in the center of that thin layer of ice, Allen, with the help of the diffused network, used all the power he could muster to deliver a clear, steady voice filled with emotional fluctuations.

“I have been observing for a long time, from before the first team was formed to the moment you toppled the lottery platform. I know you have waited too long, so long that you no longer believe in any promises. I have waited too, for hundreds of years. The only difference between me and you is that I realized earlier than you that waiting itself will never bring results.”

The voice paused for a moment, as if waiting for the word 'wait' to land.

"Riots will not end your suffering any faster; they will only take you further away from death."

“Those trampled wooden signs and burned registers will not make any demon's mouth open wider, nor will they widen any crack. You have already seen the consequences of the riots—more people are trampled, more bodies are torn apart, and more fragments of consciousness are scattered to farther places. Those fragments will not disappear; they will continue to ache and wait, only harder to find than before.”

“Now I have found a way, not a lottery, not a queue, not a fight, but to bring all the scattered deaths back together as a whole.”

"Though the soul mists surging from hell take various forms, they can be compressed, fused, and reshaped into a complete aggregate, an existence capable of bearing all life and not shattering due to overload. It will be a container large enough to hold the departure of all of you, without any order, priority, or reason to wait."

"This process will take time, and you will need to remain quiet."

“I ask you to return to your respective settlements and shelters, and stop tearing down fences and burning supplies. I need those supply transport routes to remain open, those conveyor belts in the mines to continue operating, and those laboratory equipment and sensor lines to continue functioning. You don’t need to understand the details; you just need to know that everything I’m doing is so that you don’t have to wait any longer.”

“I promise that when that aggregate takes shape, you will all leave. No one will be left behind, no one will be left with any remnants, no fragments will be scattered in the grass and water. It will be a complete and elegant death, an end that will no longer require any struggle.”

"Before that, please stop throwing stones and torches, and stop pushing down those fences, because the fences are no longer useful. You won't have much time left. Just spend the rest of your days in peace. That's my only request."

He called the plan the Global End Plan.

He said it would be an elegant death, an orderly death, one without scrambling, trampling, or anxious waiting.

He asked everyone to put down their stones and torches, leave the toppled fences and lottery platforms, and return to their respective settlements and shelters.

He needs people's cooperation to maintain order, he needs the remaining thugs and former managers to continue maintaining order, he needs to reopen the material transfer channels, and he needs no one to destroy the resource networks that sustain the survival of the lower classes.

He said he didn't care whether people believed him or feared him; he only asked people to remain quiet and clear-headed during this final wait, because the final end didn't need any more chaos.

The sound continued for a while before gradually fading away, like a thin mist blown away by the wind, and finally disappeared completely.

On the ground, people stopped in their tracks. Some looked up, some put down the stones in their hands, and some slowly squatted down and sat down, never to stand up again. The original administrators began to regroup. They were not as efficient as before, but they could still walk, block, and maintain order, as if they were being pushed back into motion by an invisible force.

Supply channels began to reopen, and boxes and bottles carrying analgesic ingredients started moving again along the old routes, transporting them from the forest area to other areas.

Meanwhile, a group of elite squads, long managed by Allen, moved from different strongholds to various settlements to deal with the scattered resistance that still refused to accept the new rules.

People no longer jostled, pushed, or cut in line.

The riots scattered in various places gradually died down, like fires that had been doused with water.

They no longer needed to take numbers, because they knew those numbers were meaningless. They just needed to wait, wait for the aggregate to take shape, wait for Allen to come and end it all.

Under Allen's management, the order of the entire continent seemed to be pieced back together from the very bottom.

The passageways between the ruins became passable again, the conveyor belts in the mining area began to turn slowly, and the indicator lights of the equipment in the underground laboratory lit up again in standby mode. Those things that had been pushed over, overturned, and smashed were untouched, lying quietly in place like abandoned old tools.

They are no longer needed because the world’s attention has shifted elsewhere—towards the slowly forming aggregate.

On the evening of the thirty-first day, Allen's instructions spread to all nodes along the underground sensor network that covered the entire globe.

The instructions reached not only laboratories and mining areas, but also communication base stations and signal relay towers left over from the old civilization.

They had been dormant for a long time after the cataclysm, and most of them were no longer functioning properly. However, during the hundreds of years of collection, Allen gradually repaired some of them and connected them to his system as backup channels.

On that day, those channels were activated simultaneously, broadcasting several messages globally in sync.

The first directive is very simple: all acts of personal sacrifice are prohibited, effective immediately.

All queuing lanes are closed, all demon gathering areas are designated as restricted zones, and the lottery platform and registration points are suspended immediately. No organization or individual may arrange or assist sacrifices under any pretext, forcibly contact demons, or conduct any form of pre-death sacrifice ritual. Existing sporadic death slots are permanently suspended and will not be reinstated.

The second instruction was issued more directly:

All individuals with highly active constitutions must be placed under centralized control, and the armed forces already incorporated in various regions will conduct door-to-door investigations, register each person, and transfer them in a unified manner.

Those who refuse to cooperate will be forcibly transferred, those who resist will be deactivated, and those with severe injuries will be sent to separate temporary treatment centers.

If a resident exhibits obvious signs of excessive decay, exposed bones, or persistent loss of consciousness, they will be classified as a low-activity individual at this stage and will not be included in the containment scope of this operation for the time being.

These instructions spread throughout all settlements and temporary camps, and order was re-established from the top down. Armed forces that had once belonged to different regions of the old civilization began to converge on Allen's control system. Some were persuaded, some were disbanded and reorganized, and some were merely nominal without ever having any real operational capability. But this time, they were given a clear and simple new task: find people on the list, bring them out, and send them to the suppression factory.

On the morning of the third day, a group of people wearing old-fashioned protective suits arrived at a settlement on the western side of the mainland.

They drove two modified transport vehicles, unmarked except for a registration form affixed to the inside of the doors. The team leader was a middle-aged man with burn scars on his face; his voice wasn't loud, but it was steady.

He had the residents of the settlement gathered in an open space in the middle of the ruins, then took out a folded list from his pocket and began reading the names to the people.

After the reading was finished, some people came out, and some did not.

Those who hadn't come out were found by the search team from deep within the ruins and around the corners of the alleyways. Some tried to hide, and some tried to cross the fence on the side to leave, but they were all stopped.

There was little resistance, because most people had waited so long that they no longer cared whether they were asked to leave or led away. They simply followed the line to the vehicle, climbed on, and squeezed into the carriage, waiting for it to start moving.

In an old industrial area in central China, the convoy stopped in front of an abandoned warehouse.

When the search team pushed open the warehouse door, they found dozens of people huddled inside. They had been ravaged by long-term decay and starvation, reduced to nothing but skin and bones, but their cellular activity remained high because their consciousness was still intact.

The search team didn't ask any questions; they simply followed the procedure, entered their numbers into the recording terminal, and then placed them in another transport vehicle.

As someone was being lifted into the vehicle, they said, "I've been waiting for so long, I thought no one would come."

The young team member in charge of recording didn't look up; he simply swiped on the recording terminal and said, "Here we go."

Inside those factories, the situation was even more complicated.

The factories are located in different locations on various continents. Some are converted from old pharmaceutical factories, some are dug out from abandoned mines, and some are converted from large underground civil defense projects left over from old civilizations.

The design goal of each factory is the same: to disperse highly vital personnel into isolated chambers, suppress their cellular activity through a constant energy field, reduce the intensity of their release of vital signals to the outside world, and at the same time integrate their vital signs into the global data system.

The factory, located underground in the mining area in northern mainland China, was one of the first sites to be put into operation.

After the transfer vehicle arrived, the door opened, and the people inside were guided into the passage one by one. Some could walk on their own, some needed to be helped, and some were carried.

The receiving terminal at the mouth displays their number, name, and original settlement code, while simultaneously recording their cell activity index and consciousness fluctuation frequency.

The temperature is kept at a relatively constant level, and the air is introduced after being filtered through multiple layers.

Most of the compartments in the compression plant are relatively quiet because the people sent in have already gone through a long wait and decay, and they no longer have much energy to make noise.

But one cabin was not very quiet.

The cabin contained a young man who had been transferred from a coastal settlement. His body was relatively intact among the long-decaying population, except that the skin on his left arm was extensively ulcerated.

He didn't make a sound for the first two hours after entering the cabin; he just sat against the wall.

But in the third hour, he suddenly stood up, walked to the hatch, pounded on the metal door several times, and shouted, "Open the door, I want to get out."

The hatch didn't open, so he stood there and patted it a few more times, but no one responded. The festering part of his palm left a dark red mark on the metal surface.

He stopped, leaned back against the wall, and did not continue banging. His shouting was recorded as a destabilizing act, but not as an incident requiring intervention.

Around the same time, the central control room of the pressing plant began to carry out the initial sorting and organization of the data. The output data of each compartment was uniformly incorporated into the global network, and classified, sorted and numbered.

The data is eventually fed into Allen's master database, forming a global vitality distribution map that covers the entire region, is arranged hierarchically by area, and is labeled by activity level.

The different colored blocks in the diagram indicate the activity concentration of each area, and the depth of the color is directly proportional to the intensity of vitality.

At the same time, the containment of the demons is also underway.

Most of the high- and low-level demons roaming the ground are on the verge of overload or in a state of digestive stagnation, and their range of activity is limited.

A few souls that were still moving slowly were lured to a designated area by the surface containment team using portable energy field generators after their locations were locked.

The containment teams are small, with each team typically consisting of three to five people and equipped with portable devices.

Most demons do not show obvious resistance during the process of being lured in, because after the continuous infusion of life force, their senses are completely consumed by the burden of digestion, making it difficult for them to avoid approaching humans. But there are exceptions.

Near a dried-up riverbed in the southern part of the continent, a containment team discovered a high-ranking demon.

Its soul body was not yet fully filled; its form was still clear, and it could still sense the approaching containment team members. When it detected the signal emitted by the energy field generator, it retreated several meters and then stopped, as if judging whether the object in front of it was within its feeding range.

The containment team did not get too close, but maintained a stable output of the guidance signal, allowing it to choose its own direction to follow.

After a period of standoff, the soul finally turned toward the direction of the guiding signal and slowly drifted into the pre-set passage.

Those individuals with exceptionally high vitality were sent to the compression manufacturing plant for concentrated life suppression. (End of Chapter)