Infinity: Kill your way through the movie world.

Late on the fourteenth night, in a recessed area on the outskirts of the core area, a medium-sized demon stopped.

It moved from the southern containment area along underground fissure passages at a rapid pace, arriving in the core area several hours earlier than other demons in the same region.

Upon arrival, it did not continue to move inward, but hovered at the edge for a period of time to observe before slowly moving inward and joining the flow of the outer fog band.

When the stripping signal reached its location, its soul exhibited several distinct contraction and expansion fluctuations.

When the fluctuations ended, its soul stopped its irregular contractions, the debris at the edges stopped scattering, and it ceased responding to the outside world. The remaining part was then slowly enveloped by the surrounding black mist, and its edges were no longer clearly discernible.

By the early morning of the fifteenth day, all the demons in the containment area had completed the stripping process.

The black mist in the center of the core area is now denser than it was two days ago, and the central part is almost opaque, but it can still be seen that it is slowly expanding outward.

It no longer needs external forces to maintain it; its very existence is sufficient to maintain its form.

The drifting of debris from the edges has largely stopped, and those tiny particles that occasionally drift away from the main cluster will soon be reabsorbed by the main cluster.

This is an extremely slow, almost imperceptible shrinkage behavior, like the edge of an old piece of cloth curling inward after being left to stand for many years.

The main cluster has no obvious layered structure, nor any identifiable nodes or boundaries. It appears to have been compressed into a single, uniform, seamless aggregate.

Allen immersed his senses into the interior of the black mist, confirming that its internal connectivity was completely unblocked, with no longer any obstructions or isolation layers.

It is no longer merely an aggregation of souls, no longer contains any individual consciousness, and is no longer limited by the independent form of a demon. It is a shapeless, boundless, and internally fissured furnace of death.

It was still expanding, but no longer because it was filled with life, but because its very existence required a certain amount of space, which Allen named 'Dead Ruins'.

Just past noon, the Death Ruins slowly sank several meters below the core area, and then floated slightly upwards.

This amorphous black mist runs through the core of the entire underground energy field. Its bottom is embedded in the bedrock and insulating mineral layers, while its top is slightly higher than the energy field generator array in the core area, like a black mountain embedded in the earth's surface.

Its surface no longer scatters debris, nor does it exhibit any irregular fluctuations. It simply occupies that space quietly, like a polished dark mineral with clear lines and smooth edges, silent as a stone tablet forgotten for a thousand years.

Late at night on the fifteenth day, Allen sat in front of the control panel in that underground space and pulled up a full-area structural scan of the Dead Ruins.

The scan images show that the amorphous black fog has penetrated several sedimentary layers beneath the core area and entered deeper crustal fissures.

Its expansion slowed down during the descent, but never completely stopped. Throughout the extension process, it maintained that smooth and uniform surface feature, without cracks, delamination, or any discontinuities.

At the edge of the surface of the dead ruins, some areas show slight undulations, as if some kind of extremely slow energy fluctuation is being transmitted along the surface.

The undulations were very smooth, like a calm tide rather than a turbulent undercurrent.

Allen closed the scan, turned the chair toward the wide rock wall, and did nothing more.

He no longer needed to repeatedly check the state of the black mist. The Death Ruins had formed and were stabilizing. He only needed to wait for it to fully grow into its complete form before the final end.

He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

The next step is not to make further adjustments, but to observe. Observe whether the dead ruins will continue to self-adjust, whether they will continue to slowly extend deeper, and whether they will stabilize in their current position.

If it can remain stable for the next dozen or so hours, it will prove that the global aggregate has the ability to sustain itself.

At that point, no external force will be needed to maintain its structure; it will be able to support itself.

On the morning of the 16th, global transit channels were fully operational, and the standardized calibration project was launched.

At this moment, a thin layer of gray light still lingered on the horizon. This land, tormented by the curse of immortality for thousands of years, had no vitality whatsoever. Rotting human bodies, broken bones, and abandoned lottery tickets were scattered everywhere.

The Thirty-Day Global Finale Plan has entered its third phase. Allen's first order has spread to every suppression factory, every temporary field transfer station, and every mountain forest and riverbed scattered with human cells:
For humans in remote areas, a final dimensional reduction and adaptation project for the life force of all humanity needs to be initiated. This project will last for ten days, from the sixteenth to the twenty-fifth day. All living, half-shattered, and completely dispersed immortals in remote areas must complete the standardization calibration of their bodies. This will adjust the life force of all people to a uniform and stable state that will not overwhelm the Death Ruins, ensuring that when the Death Ruins are fully expanded on the twenty-sixth day, they can simultaneously devour all living beings without any overload or omission.

At a large transshipment station on the eastern side of the mainland, which was converted from an old highway, the roaring transport trucks began to drive into the station area one after another along the damaged road at the crack of dawn.

The road surface was riddled with potholes, and the wheels crunched and groaned as they rolled over the dried pus and bone fragments on the ground. A rusty wire fence surrounded the station, covered with faded strips of cloth. A row of whitened metal signs stood on either side of the passageway, bearing only three simple characters written in charcoal ash:
The sorting area, packaging bins, and network calibration were all open. There were no guards shouting or driving people away; only a few staff members in simple gray protective suits stood quietly on both sides of the passageway, neither pushing nor pulling, but simply guiding the crowd forward along the one-way street, a path that allowed no retreat.

After the riots were completely quelled yesterday, all the people who had toppled the fences, lit the fires, and rushed into the hellish rift all voluntarily gathered from the ruins, wastelands, and mines to various transfer stations.

No one forced them. After Allen announced the global doomsday plan in the global broadcast, most of the competitive and wishful thinking in everyone's hearts had faded. They knew that there was no end to the scattered pursuit of death, that the demons would overload and explode, and that the lottery would always be divided into different levels. Only by following Allen's process to complete the calibration could they all disappear cleanly and completely.

The first group to arrive at the station were a large group of people whose bodies were still relatively intact. Most of them were middle-aged people in their thirties or forties. Their skin and flesh were not severely ulcerated, and their vitality was exceptionally strong. According to the calibration rules, these people had to be sent to the dismantling chamber to break down their excess vitality and convert it into a low-load state to avoid impacting the main body of the Death Void during subsequent absorption.

The line was long, and people were close together. No one pushed or shoved. Everyone moved quietly along the passage. Each person had grayish-brown marks left by years of decay. Thin sap kept seeping from the wounds, which fell to the ground and gathered into thin, light gray watermarks. But no one raised their hand to wipe it. Everyone's eyes were calm, without fear, only the weariness of thousands of years.

Standing at the front of the line was a man in his forties named Ryan. When the cataclysm first broke out, he still had a wife and children at home. His family had endured for more than two hundred years. His wife and children had long since dispersed into cells and drifted into the mud by the river. Only he remained with an intact body, whose vitality was frighteningly strong.

He had failed to win the lottery in over fifty rounds, and had already traded his old pocket watch for a chance to draw a priority lottery. In the end, the demon burst as soon as it got close, and he was only drained of a small part of his life force. When he woke up, he was still covered in rotten flesh and tormented by burning pain day and night.

Ryan's hands hung at his sides, his festering fingertips gently rubbing against the metal wall of the passageway. An elderly woman with gray hair slowly struck up a conversation with him.

“Young man, you also have a complete body and are going into the dismantling chamber, right? I’ve lived for almost three hundred years, and my body has long since shattered into only half a torso. I heard that people like us don’t need to be dismantled; we just need to calibrate our consciousness fluctuations.” The old woman’s shoulder bone was exposed on one side, with a thin layer of rotten skin covering the bone. She walked with a limp, but steadily, without the slightest anxiety.

Ryan nodded slightly, his voice hoarse and dry, as if he hadn't spoken properly in a long time: "I know that dismantling will break up the excess vitality into uniform molecules, but it doesn't matter. Before, I fought desperately for a death spot, and I was so angry when I saw the rich people jumping into the rift first that I caused several riots. Now I understand that seeking death alone is not a relief at all. It's better if everyone is put into the same state and dissipates synchronously within 24 hours, without having to distinguish between first and last.

The old lady sighed deeply, gazing at the rows of sealed shipping containers in the distance: "That's right, living is suffering. Layers of rotten flesh grow, and even after they're cut off, they grow back. The bones feel like they're being rubbed with sandpaper all the time."

"I used to always hope that I might encounter a demon that wouldn't burst one day, but now I know that was just wishful thinking. Mr. Allen's plan is the only way out."

While the two were talking, the line slowly moved to the first scanning gate.

A faint gray light illuminated above the gate, and the instrument automatically scanned each person's body, displaying lines of data rapidly on the screen:

Body integrity, cellular vitality concentration, frequency of consciousness fluctuations, and level of decay.

The data was simultaneously transmitted to Allen's remote life suppression network buried deep underground. Scanning data from all stations across the continent would be aggregated in real time at his underground control console.

There were no handwritten records from staff next to the gate; everything was automated. Once the scan was complete, the machine emitted a soft beeping sound, and two forked guide lines popped up on the ground. The light gray line pointed to the disassembly area, while the dark gray line pointed to the consciousness calibration chamber.

Complete humans with excessive vitality followed the gray line toward the dismantling plant, while elderly people with mutilated bodies and scattered cells followed the dark gray passage toward the calibration cubicle on the other side. Everyone consciously separated into different groups without needing anyone's instructions.

The dismantling workshop has a huge interior space with rows of metal workbenches arranged neatly. The workbenches are cool to the touch and have soft restraint straps that won't hurt the skin or cause sores; they simply hold the person in place.

Each workbench corresponds to a gentle layering disassembly device. Without sharp blades, it relies on the low-frequency energy field developed by Allen to slowly decompose the excess highly active cells in the human body, breaking down the intense vitality into fine, stable molecular particles. It does not cause tearing pain, but only a light, numb sensation.

Ryan lay down on the workbench as instructed. The straps automatically and gently conformed to his back and limbs. He did not struggle and voluntarily laid his festering arm flat.

The staff member operating the equipment next to her was a young woman. She had seen a large number of immortals who volunteered to undergo dismantling. She spoke calmly to reassure them. There was no need to be deliberately gentle, as everyone had long since become indifferent to their physical bodies: "Don't be nervous. You will only feel a slight numbness throughout the energy field decomposition process. After the excess life force is stripped away, your origin will become stable and balanced. When the Death Ruins descend on the twenty-sixth day, you will be able to completely dissolve along with everyone else, without leaving any residue."

Ryan closed his eyes tightly and softly hummed in agreement: "I understand. There's no need to comfort me. After more than two hundred years of torment, this numbness is nothing."

A low-frequency magnetic field slowly enveloped his body, and a layer of light mist covered his entire body. With the naked eye, one could see the overly intense dark red vitality on his body slowly peeling away and dispersing along with the mist, turning into countless tiny transparent particles, which flowed into the unified storage network of the entire domain through the conveying pipes on the top of the factory.

Throughout the entire ordeal, Ryan didn't utter a single groan. He simply lay there quietly, his mind replaying the scenes of queuing, riots, and watching others die first over the past few centuries. He felt no resentment whatsoever.

Dozens of workbenches in the factory were operating simultaneously, with whole humans lying on each one, willingly undergoing dismantling. Some chatted quietly with their companions, while others waited silently with their eyes closed. There were no cries or resistance. Everyone understood that dismantling was not harm, but a necessary process for adapting to the end, just like the unified recycling and disposal of damaged goods. Only after being sorted out can they be stored together.

Next to the dismantling area is the packing and transfer area. After being processed, the human body will be transported through pipes into the huge sealed container.

Looking around, the entire open space of the station was filled with uniformly sized metal containers, exactly the same style as the containers used to seal off the people on the 22nd. The containers were thick, with cushioning and heat-insulating pads inside, and each container had its own network sensor circuit. Each container was an independent remote network unit, directly connected to the main network for suppressing life across the entire domain built by Allen.

Once the essence of the immortal has been processed, whether it is the molecular form that has just been disassembled or the consciousness carrier after the incomplete body has been calibrated, it will be sent into containers in an orderly manner, like goods being sorted and packaged in a recycling factory, and loaded in batches.

Staff pushed simple flatbed carts, gently placing those who had just completed calibration into the boxes. The boxes were spacious and not crowded or squeezed. People spontaneously found places to sit or lie down, resting next to each other. No one fought for space. Everyone was like goods waiting to be collected, quietly following the whole process without any resistance.

A shipping container filled with people slowly closed its metal door. The indicator light beside the door changed from green to dark red, and the dense network of sensors on the container's surface simultaneously lit up faintly, instantly establishing a connection with the main control network thousands of miles underground. (End of Chapter)