Cyber ​​Sword Immortal Iron Rain

Fang Bailu narrowed his eyes: The chat records at the bottom happened the earliest in time——

At that time, these immortals might not have yet left the human realm.

But gradually, in this crude and rough interface interaction, they began to use a more streamlined way of communication.

"Something has changed..."

Is it because they are too familiar with each other, or are they adapting to their increasing intelligence?

Thinking of the cognitive disturbance that the Xihe girl's body was emitting all the time, Fang Bailu was more inclined to the latter -

Higher, faster, stronger?

Not as good as a more active, alert and intelligent brain.

But he knew deep down:

What the immortal has in his hands is definitely not common stuff like external consciousness, auxiliary brain, and personality perception network.

It had to be some other, completely different path.

……

Unconsciously, Fang Bailu began to look at the sloppy paintings. He was no longer able to understand the rest of the words.

Among them, there are human bodies turning into flying petals; there are giant towers rising into the sky from the earth; there are bright stars dotted against the black background.

He also showed different emotions depending on the scene.

Sometimes he felt terrified, sometimes he jumped for joy, and sometimes he felt confused and sad; but most of the time, he felt uncomfortable and bored from the paintings.

Occasionally, a few whispers will ring in my heart:

"The Five Deteriorations of the Celestial Beings... can you survive this?"

"The heaven and earth were born with me, and all things are one with me. There must be something in this world that lasts forever... maybe."

“Life is long and one cannot walk alone. Pursuing happiness and companionship is everyone’s right.”

"Thank you. Thank you, Yama. Everything will be fine... I won't give up. I want to see the grand scene, too."

Now Fang Bailu understood that these graffiti were a unique way of communicating used by one of the immortals: but these fragments, even with the comments from the Heavenly Punishment Bird and Iron Monk, could hardly give a full picture of a discussion.

"Uh...huh?"

A neatly arranged discussion suddenly caught his eye.

The only relatively complete paragraph stood out among the piles of incomprehensible text.

At least at first glance, everyone is still trying to speak human language:

……

"Taishan Old Man #attempts to perform an enlightenment procedure #attempts to randomly awaken multiple hibernating dragons that have been frozen in time #.

Not allowed. ——Absolutely——No

The gathering is full. The distribution of "Eternal Life" is complete.

“It’s not poverty that’s worrying, it’s inequality.”

Impact: Profit/Placement/Effect.

Taboo. "

Fang Bailu never thought that one day he would find these fragmented words and sentences so simple and easy to understand - compared to the other nonsense he had just seen, it was so smooth.

"Awaken, freeze... sleep forever? Hibernate dragon?"

The image of a white coffin covered in thick fog and the inescapable title of the living dead flashed through my mind.

He put his hand in his mouth and bit his painless index finger hard.

What followed was a series of elegant and slender handwriting; the ordinary words at this time could be said to stand out from the crowd.

It was the "host":

"To my father Taishan... no, Yama (I call you by this name to evoke the only remaining feelings between you and me):

We understand the desire to awaken the dormant dragons. But there are millions of hibernation chambers still in operation. Do we need to revive every one of them? Do we also need to capture all the wild AIs wandering around the Internet and make them turn over a new leaf? What about the many children and other species? Do we need to promote them all?

One bird of punishment is enough.

Let those former compatriots rest in peace! We have done our best by not destroying those "Palaces of Peace" - if others still want to be awakened, they should hand over the way to immortality and then kill themselves; we will give the extra portion to the revived newcomers.

What should we do with the dozen or so compatriots who have woken up? Do you want us to be stained with extra blood?

If you want to create allies to agree with your distorted ideas, please use arguments and reasoning to convince others in the rally instead of continuing to "pull people".

Please remember who is the same kind now. We rejected the fire-stealing trick of Prometheus when we voted before.

We are not personal gods, we are just wandering immortals.

You've given a lot to the rally, and that's the only reason you still exist.

That’s all I have to say. Let’s vote.”

After this, there is no "positive" word -

Different handwritings wrote Chinese characters of different sizes; they were connected end to end and stuck together, outlining a huge pattern like complete lines.

This seems to be the sum of everyone's opinions.

Although distorted and deformed, Fang Bailu could still recognize that this was artistically processed text:

"die".

He lowered his head: only half of a lonely stick drawing remained, and the broken edge looked like it had been cut by a knife or an axe.

It was half a gentle and graceful face, with tears like a waterfall flowing out of the empty eye sockets.

"no no!"

The boiling magma poured into Fang Bailu's seven orifices and pores, then solidified, wrapping him like a cocoon.

Sadness, reluctance, confusion, powerlessness, hesitation...

Fang Bailu raised his head and let out a silent howl.

The feeling was too strong for him to bear.

After an unknown amount of time, the dry rocks of emotion finally peeled off piece by piece, revealing the whispers underneath.

That is the longest paragraph so far:

"Yama was wrong, I will accept the ending. But please, don't destroy the people who have been awakened, just let them leave their hometown...Yama just wants her compatriots to continue their unfinished lives and wishes...I will make the arrangements, don't bother the assembly."

"Just a little bit of blood and endorphin stress program... I will make relatives and grandchildren who love them deeply and are willing to accompany them forever. No one should live alone-"

……

Fang Bailu hugged his body with his hands, feeling the biting cold.

"What...what is this..."

Half of it is the remnant of emotions that have not yet dissipated, and half of it comes from the heart.

"It's me, right? I'm one of the ones who was awakened, right?"

In the middle of the night, Fang Bailu also had doubts:

He remembered his grandparents, and of course his parents. But going back further... no one in the family even mentioned the names of those who passed away earlier.

Those people who existed before Fang Bailu and could exist after him! Even if they were not forgotten, they had already been thrown out of daily life.

Is there anyone in the world who is willing to carry the coffin of an ancestor whom he has never seen for who knows how many generations, across mountains and rivers, and endure the hardships of migration, and not be willing to put it down?

Is it really going to happen?

But Fang Bailu’s descendants did it: they never let go during that desolate journey from Pan Asia to Kuala Lumpur.

Maybe there is hatred without reason, but he doesn't believe there is love without reason.

Can those tiny biological connections make people make sacrifices to protect their "loved ones" in the cryostat who may never wake up?

Fang Bailu never asked Xiaodong how many hardships and sacrifices he had gone through during that long journey in order to preserve the white coffin.

and also……

does it worth?

He didn't dare to ask, or even hint at it - and perhaps, Xiaodong didn't have the answer to the question either.

But the blood and sweat that have long since turned to dust must have existed; they also flowed through his heart, allowing the remnants of this ancient era to continue moving forward.

And now, the answer is in front of Fang Bailu:

Xiaodong, who has lived with him day and night for several years, and his ancestors from generation to generation -

It is nothing more than a slave tool casually created by an immortal to satisfy his or her impromptu desires.

What made Fang Bailu even more upset was...

This was actually out of some kindness.

……

"what."

Fang Bailu covered his face and then put it down.

Finally he raised his shaking arms and pointed two fingers at the picture:

One side is the middle finger and the other side is the thumb.

Chapter 163: Heaven and Earth Gamble

How many hundreds of meters, or even kilometers above the ground? Fang Bailu had no idea, and just mechanically continued to float higher.

The seats at the bottom of the room have become blurry black dots due to the height difference.

From some point on, the Chinese language that Fang Bailu was familiar with disappeared from the whiteboard.

And the earlier half-painting turned out to be the last one.

Instead, there are flying self-made symbols, strange marks that have never been seen before, and inverted figures that seem to have been painted at random.

They covered the writing board in front of me and continued to spread upwards.

He seemed to appear in a strange story displayed on a street stall in his previous life, facing the bizarre landscape.

But this is not a crop circle or the Bermuda Triangle; it is clearly before our eyes:

At some point in the past, the immortals abandoned the old language.

The Book of Heaven

This is a heavenly book.

Fang Bailu understood:

These guys, who might be considered fellow villagers, are transforming into other people during their sleep...

Even Chinese characters, which have thousands of years of history, cannot satisfy their desires and needs for expression.

Is it some deeper philosophy? A broad emotion that transcends the hormones in the brain and the description of words? The truth of the world that cannot be captured by the senses and therefore cannot be described by language?

How do humans describe colors that cannot be distinguished by three-dimensional color vision?

"Describing colors to a person born blind is like scratching an itch..."

He put his hands in front of his eyes and looked up:

At the end of the field of vision, there was finally a smooth blank space; that represented the end of these chats.

Did it fall into a deep sleep? Or is the chat room no longer able to support further conversation?

Fang Bailu now believed what Shou Niang said in her meditation: This was not something he could get away with by just standing by and watching.

The world may not collapse, but it certainly won’t be the way you like it.

"The emperor takes turns..."

He turned around and floated downward.