Cyber ​​Sword Immortal Iron Rain

The sturdy tripod legs reflect the color of the alloy, and they stand against the four corners of the empty room, looking gigantic.

The outer shell of the furnace was made of a translucent material, and the bulging belly of the furnace kept rotating horizontally. The vermilion liquid elixir was surging and rolling inside; it seemed that something was pulsating and making waves. But Fang Bailu couldn't see clearly.

With it as the center, dozens of steel-cast cushions and desks are arranged; screens in the shape of Bagua mirrors stand upright on each desk, still active.

The screen plays a constructed wavy halftone image, showing the real-time readings of the temperature and the five elements of the weather; the interactive interface displays a certain ancient and simple aesthetic.

Fang Bailu looked away: This is not what he is looking for now.

Someone was sitting cross-legged under the alchemy furnace, facing Fang Bailu.

He walked forward until he could see the man's face clearly:

Her long, shiny black hair was curled into waves and draped behind her head like clouds and waterfalls. The bottom was tied up and hung down to her waist. The brocade robe she wore was embroidered with gold thread on an electrophoresis apparatus, a bleaching shaker, a centrifuge and a pipette... sixty-four kinds of instruments and equipment were arranged according to the directions of the hexagrams.

Judging from the exaggerated curve of her chest and her slender waist that can be held in one hand, this is a woman.

The reason for "guessing" is that Fang Bailu cannot see her face clearly——

The mask covered the half of his face above the mouth, down to the hairline, which was a slightly darker flesh color than the rest of his skin. Two horns covered with scratches protruded from his forehead, thin at the top and thick at the bottom, with a fork at the top pointing to the sky.

The skin looked so fresh, as if it had just been peeled off a person.

But there are no eyebrows or eyes. Where the eye sockets should be, there are four steel chain teeth arranged side by side, and the zipper hangs on the side, decorated with a pure black yin fish.

Somehow, the long pointed horns reminded Fang Bailu of an evil ghost.

The exposed lips were red and plump - they didn't look like they were covered with powder or lip gloss, but rather as if they were particularly healthy and full of blood; the lines of the chin and jaw were rounded, with just the right arc: they didn't appear mean because of their sharpness, but they were not bloated at all.

Fang Bailu looked at her. She grinned, revealing her neat teeth and a dimple on her cheek. Fang Bailu doubted whether natural teeth could have such a bright white color.

Zila...

The Qigong practitioner raised his hands and covered his face with his wide sleeves; the sound of a zipper being dragged could be heard from behind his sleeves.

She gently spread her sleeves, held her knees again, and revealed her untied eyes.

Two pairs of eyes, a total of four, flickered and spun on the evil ghost's face, like the dancing lights at a music festival.

The pupils were as black as ink, but the whites were a dull grey gold.

Their gazes penetrated the smoke from the burning tobacco and met Fang Bailu's eyes.

"the last one……"

Fang Bailu took a puff of cigarette and a long stream of smoke came out of his nostrils. He then used his other hand to brush away the cigarette paper that was covered with long pieces of white ash and asked softly:

"Atala? The name of the student who just registered in the research institute is 'Zhili Ke', right?"

He already knew the answer, it was just a routine matter.

Atala stood up from his cross-legged position - naturally and smoothly. If he had not undergone rigorous training, then his joint structure was different from that of ordinary people.

She bent down and bowed, her left hand on her chest and her right hand raised high to the side like a wing. That was the performer's greeting to the audience of just one person.

There were faint sighs echoing in the air, but the Qigong practitioner's lips were tightly closed.

Fang Bailu discovered that one of her feet was bare, while the other foot was wearing a pair of rubber slippers.

For some reason, she hasn't said a word until now.

Fang Bailu held the filter with his teeth, raised his right palm and caught the "cell phone" floating from behind.

He raised the flying sword in his hand and uttered incoherently:

"I'm here to kill you."

Chapter 177: The Abyss (Part )

Fang Bailu scraped the soles of his shoes on the ground to prevent the body fluids and human tissues from interfering with his movements.

The empty room was covered with dark waxed solid wood floors - the financial resources involved were beyond his imagination; the feel under his feet was also something he had not seen for a long time.

Atala, who was facing Fang Bailu, did not reply but just tilted his head, as if waiting for the next words.

"Xiao Xin... Oh, that's all."

An indescribable feeling of bitterness and guilt swept through Fang Bailu's heart: she had promised the young man that she would bring his blood relatives home with her.

But after the "Heart Sword", that blood relative may not be the person that Shin-chan knew in the past.

And Fang Bailu may not still be Fang Bailu.

"The sword of suffering."

What it cuts is already contained in its name - it is the "cause" that leads to the "eight sufferings of life".

Although it sounds similar to the method by which the electronic Buddha reaches nirvana and transforms into the original "1" and "0"... in fact, it targets personality models and self-cognition.

The concepts of "birth, aging, sickness, death, failure to obtain what one desires, meeting with those one hates, separation from those one loves, and the prevalence of the five elements" are stripped away from the brain - even after uploading the perceptual network to the digital space, it cannot be recreated.

This is a sword technique that can make a person become a blissful idiot and spend the rest of his life, or sink into eternal suffering.

Fang Bailu stroked the outer shell of the mobile phone: the armor, which had been deformed by the impact of the heavy walls of Xianying Palace and the high heat of the "Quiet Water Sword", unfolded and fell outward layer by layer, revealing the display screen extending outward underneath.

The surrounding scene emerges in each square made up of the screen.

The palm-sized mobile phone case was expanded into a thin double-sided mirror two meters long and one and a half meters wide, floating in the air.

At this moment, Fang Bailu saw clearly the tired man in front of him: his tattered coat was covered with greasy fat, meat and almost dried blood, and a piece of brain tissue that had been stuck there at some point was hanging from the corner of his eyebrow, dangling.

He knew that Atala was also facing the woman in the mirror at this moment: the Qigong practitioner wearing a flesh-and-blood mask, with flickering eyes and two horns on her head.

“To cut off a part of your consciousness, you must first know yourself.”

The rouge waves surged into the empty room, sweeping over Fang Bailu, Atala and the wooden floor - it was the bright vermilion color coming from the boiling elixir in the furnace, reflected by the mirror.

Fang Bailu spat out a mouthful of gray-green saliva, which came from the endorphin inhibitor he had just chewed and swallowed.

From now until an hour from now, he will not know what joy and happiness are - at least, his body will not know.

"The first question... the first question..."

The large mirror floating between the two people asked in a low voice. It was the intermittent noise emitted by a radio when the broadcast signal was unstable:

"If... you could... choose... anyone... from... everyone... in the world... who would you... invite... to dinner?"

In addition to this inexplicable question, there was also murmuring that was difficult to hear clearly.

Fang Bailu saw the man in front of him curl his lips and reveal a bitter and bitter fake smile:

"Mom, Dad, and Xiaodong."

On the other side of the mirror, Atala was silent; she made no effort to answer the question.

Fang Bailu exhaled the smoke from his mouth, inhaled it through his nose, and did a "Hui Long":

"You don't need to say it out loud, just call up the answer in your heart."

The “Sword of Suffering” is not a collection of sword-wielding moves.

It is a rigorous process consisting of forty-nine questions, wet and dry cognitive signals, and pattern thinking representation symbols.

As long as Atala understands her own desires and has a little empathy for the other party, Bai Lu...

You can dissociate and delete the desires in your brain: even the secreted hormones or distant memories will not be able to stir up the waves in your heart again.

He wanted to destroy the possibility of Atara's original fetus returning to the Xihe girl - by destroying the parts of the original fetus that made it a "human" as a means.

"But if the Heart Sword is to be used on other people, it needs a trigger..."

This trigger is one's own corresponding love and desire - if you want the other person to delete something, you have to pay the same price.

When tomorrow's daylight and neon lights disappear, he and Atala will become machines driven by flesh and blood with only stress mechanisms left.

"Even if the Xihe girl wakes up afterwards, she will use 'Shin' as her main personality."

Fang Bailu saw everything when he was introducing and practicing the visualization of the "Sword of the Heart of Suffering": this could be done, Attala would not resist or reject the sword's cutting of consciousness; it was the only way to achieve the best result.

As for the future plans, I will be more determined to complete them——

"The second question... the second question..."

"Have you ever... secretly... felt that you would die... in a particular way?"

The mirror began to flicker: it was a series of changing images, occasionally interspersed with strong and dazzling colors.

Fang Bailu felt nauseous. If he had a history of epilepsy, he might have a seizure at this moment:

"Old age or illness. Liver cancer, maybe. If it happens again, I won't accept treatment. It's too painful."

He took a deep puff of his cigarette, the filter was burning hot as the cigarette was almost burned out.

"Ho ho..."

Finally, a low laugh came from the other side of the mirror, long and charming. It was Atala's laugh.

“It worked.”

boom--

There seemed to be a muffled sound coming from far behind him. It seemed that the sword of suffering was taking effect, or maybe it was just that the heart in the left chest beat faster.

"The third question... the third question..."

"What is...your greatest achievement...in life? What...is...the thing...you are most grateful for...?"

Fang Bailu felt his body temperature rising, and the fine beads of sweat merged into large drops of sweat, flowing down the back of his neck.

boom……

The sound became louder and louder, and Fang Bailu's feet were shaking slightly.

Just answer three randomly selected questions and it will all be over.

He flicked the cigarette butt away with his fingertips and straightened his crooked collar:

"Those who are willing to accompany me——"

……

boom!

Fang Bailu turned his head at the unexpected sound and happened to see a light coming on deep in the tunnel.

It was a cold white light that gradually penetrated into the empty room.

boom! boom! boom!

There was something heavy and ferocious approaching, and its footsteps made his heart skip a beat—

A rolling wave of air gushed out of the deep tunnel, and a gray-black figure wrapped in dust and mist jumped out from it.

Then, it brushed past Fang Bailu and crashed into the mirror that was still in the air.

Wow!

The double-sided mirror on the phone shattered into fireworks, and each fragment reflected the flying figure:

She was wearing a Taoist robe made of carbon fiber. The undulating surface of the robe was shaped like a yin-yang fish, which smashed the lenses that were floating like snow into pieces and scattered them behind her.

That's Ambenolla.

Fang Bailu saw her turn her head in mid-air. On the semicircular black mask, only two large red characters flashed angrily:

"idiot!"

Fang Bailu knew that these words should be said to himself.

The strong wind slowed down for a beat, and then swept around, turning into a storm of broken screens:

The next moment, the gray-black thunder had crossed a distance of more than ten meters and rushed in front of Atara.

Before landing, Anben raised his leg and hit Atala's chest - his knee sank straight into his chest, as if the sternum was wrapped around the raised knee.

boom!

The two of them smashed into the solid wood floor together, and sawdust and burrs flew everywhere like darts, even scratching Fang Bailu's face. With the inertia brought by their terrifying weight and acceleration, they plowed a long and deep gully with a splitting sound. The collapse continued to extend forward -

Until it was just about to reach the bottom of the alchemy furnace.

Bang!

The right hand made of jade stretched out, pressed the forehead in the middle of the pair of long horns, and smashed the head straight into the ground. A sound similar to a wet towel wrapped around a dry branch and then breaking rushed into the eardrum.