Cyber ​​Sword Immortal Iron Rain

In any case, he could still cut the runners, polish the sprues, and even carve some details with a push knife, infiltrate the lines and spray protective paint - just like the plans he had prepared for this battle.

"Three hundred and seventy...what?"

Fang Bailu stopped counting: something was wrong. It seemed that the outer shell that was wrapped around him like a circle of tires had loosened a little; or the thing that was faintly penetrating into his eyes...

"Color blocks? It's not color blocks, it's light——"

Suddenly, the boundless darkness faded away: like sticky glue, the scenery slowly flowed into Fang Bailu's eyes - the visual signals that were blocked by the digital space were connected again: the eyelids seemed to be shocked and opened during the "wandering", which made Fang Bailu's eyeballs sore due to the wind.

The air currents blew into my mouth and nose, carrying with them broken soil and dust, with a choking astringent smell; along with the wind came the creaking sound of a building about to collapse.

The various sensory signals from the ears, eyes, mouth, nose, and touch of the flesh were once again swirling in the brain. Although the preset time limit had not yet arrived, Fang Bailu's "wandering" was forcibly interrupted for some reason.

Fang Bailu turned his head and spat out the acid water caused by the dizziness caused by being forced to log off:

"Forced offline, forced offline again..."

As he tilted his head, a strange dream-like scene came into view:

The whole city of Kuala Lumpur looked like peat moss floating on a swamp at this moment: the once indestructible buildings rose and fell, like connecting rods slowly moving up and down; the overturned roads and the ground cracked open like mouths, swallowing the remaining vehicles whole.

Some buildings are like bamboo shoots growing upside down, their sections getting shorter towards the ground - it seems that they will be completely swallowed up by the sinkhole soon; other high-rise buildings are like being built on the surface of a shaking jelly pudding, swaying slightly and visibly with the fluctuations of the ground.

The rest are still stubborn and solid, only the building body keeps rumbling and popping: the supporting and internal structure materials are deforming due to the unbearable pressure. This is their wail, the scream of the city.

And the very center of Kuala Lumpur...

"Tree? How can it be a tree?"

A giant tree stands in the city, standing out among the skyscrapers that are hundreds of meters tall. Its roots grow out of the cement, filling the roads that once extended in all directions; three branches grow from the trunk, and if the tips are connected in a line, they will form a perfect equilateral triangle.

The branches are bare, without a single leaf; the bark is covered with tortuous lines that slowly move.

It looks like a natural creation - but it still has obvious traces of human intervention.

Rather than being a picture you would see in reality, it is more like a strange dream scraped from the soul of a madman using a capture card.

"All the Xihe girls scattered around the city have disappeared, and now this thing has appeared. In other words, she has changed her form: from many individuals, has she merged into a whole?"

Atong's holographic projection should have been there, but it seemed that the collapse of the city destroyed too many "Mirage"-class generators, and she had disappeared at this time.

Fang Bailu felt the vibrations in his back. Judging from the intensity, he would not fall into the ruins for a while. He expected that Kuala Lumpur would collapse because of the Xihe girl, but he did not expect this to happen.

Fang Bailu was not surprised by the transformation of the Xihe girl. In his opinion, the original Xihe girl's transformation into millions of bodies that filled the city was inefficient and weird:

Judging from the behavior, each "Xihe Girl" as an individual has a certain self-awareness and can interact with information in real time - but it seems that the "intelligence" and "computing power" are just distributed equally to each individual.

According to Fang Bailu, that form of existence is purely to satisfy one's own psychological needs - perhaps it should not be called "anti-others" but a kind of "anti-loneliness".

One is unwilling to accept the existence of other people, yet wants to transform everything within sight into oneself... One hates others, yet needs comfort, and in the end, one is just using oneself to accompany oneself.

Fang Bailu could only say that the girl from Xihe was really in some subtle psychological obsession.

Since we have to live, who can live without a little madness? However, the power she possesses is enough to enlarge the hole in people's hearts to the extreme, and even swallow many things.

But such a form naturally could not resist the digital tide caused by Fang Bailu's electronic body - each Xihe girl was an independent information processing individual. In other words, their "individual" brains processed the terrifying data on Fang Bailu's body again and again.

And the towering tree before me, looking even bigger in the dust cloud—

Fang Bailu didn't think the same trick would work again.

The computing power of the entire Kuala Lumpur—or rather, its remains—at this moment reached an unprecedented peak. Even the infinite data wrapped around Fang Bailu's electronic body could not shake it again.

"This form should be the transformation from 'brain network' to a single computing unit. Now it should be called some kind of 'organic computer'."

Although Fang Bailu would not put all his eggs in one basket, the bottom of the basket called "electronic body" was rotten too quickly.

Just like a tank of water can fill up and burst a water bottle; after pouring it out, it can fill up another one again. But if you melt the water bottles together and pour them into a water tower...

vomit!

Fang Bailu, who was still thinking, suddenly spat out another mouthful of sour water: followed by a strong feeling of nausea -

Peel...peel...

A thin cracking sound came from the lower body:

The trousers made a crisp sound of tearing and cracks appeared on them: through the cracks, the unrecognizable thigh skin could be seen.

They were turning blue and gray, like the legs of a person who had died a long time ago. The skin that used to be smooth was now wrinkled and bulging, with all sorts of wrinkles and creases, as if it had been soaked in water for too long.

He compared the giant tree standing in the center of the city with his thighs, and instantly understood what was happening:

"It's a mutation in the Three Yang Meridians of the Foot. It's transforming the structure of my thigh..."

If this continues, it won’t be long before he too will be “converted”.

Without any hesitation, Fang Bailu took a deep breath and then exhaled briefly:

"Hey."

The low roar covered up the dull sound of the phone passing through the air and cutting flesh.

The phone slid across the top of his knees, cutting off Fang Bailu's legs like a paper cutter cutting the tape on a cardboard box.

boned...

The two broken legs rolled to the side with the impact, and the sole of the left shoe pressed against the Achilles tendon of the right leg, forming a strange shape. Although they were separated from the body, they continued to swell and rise - this pair of legs and feet that had been used for hundreds of years officially announced their retirement.

Fang Bailu could clearly see the cross section of the thigh through the reflection of the mobile phone screen: to be on the safe side, he cut further up to ensure that not an inch of the three yang meridians of the foot was left in the body; next to the white leg bone were the red muscles and pale fascia, which reminded him of the spare ribs he could buy in the supermarket in his previous life.

The delayed severe pain made Fang Bailu convulse unconsciously, and small streams of blood spurted out intermittently from the severed artery, making a strange "hissing" sound. He steadied his trembling hands and took out the needle-free injection pill from the inner bag in his arms; then he injected three injections in the upper part of each thigh.

The intervals between the blood columns from the wound gradually lengthened until they were completely stopped by the effect of the injection; the blood pool under his body no longer spread to the surrounding area. Fang Bailu did not continue to disinfect and bandage - he just needed to ensure that he would not go into shock due to excessive blood loss in a short period of time.

As for issues such as infection, they are not under consideration at this moment.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead: Since the first plan has failed, it is time to implement the next plan.

Fang Bailu took the tablet computer beside him and sent a positioning signal to the prosthesis. After being repaired by the Drowned Ghost, it was waiting in the hardware store - the city was becoming a ruin, and Fang Bailu, who had lost his legs, needed other ways to move. The only thing that could be used in time was to let the prosthesis with outstanding climbing ability to carry his body.

"Then we need a prosthetic body... and we need it to bring other things over..."

He danced his fingers on the tablet and continued to check: less than one-third of the holographic generators were still online.

"That's enough. Enter the voice recognition, the code: 'See the mind, see the nature, see the Tathagata'."

If the Bitter Heart Sword is regarded as a martial arts move, Fang Bailu would have to use its "second form" at this time.

"The last preparation..."

Fang Bailu fumbled in his inner pocket for a long time, and slowly but firmly took out another injection: there was no decoration or packaging on the tube, indicating that it was a handmade product from the black market. He looked at the injection for a while, but still pressed the trigger button against his side abdomen.

This is not a narcotic drug.

On the contrary, this is a compounded "rejuvenating pill" that can greatly increase nerve excitement and sensitivity.

The legs that had been separated from the body seemed to be connected to the lower body, which was rotting and burning, and was also cut into thousands of pieces alive. Under the effect of the "Kaiqiao Xingshen Pills", the phantom limb pain came quickly and urgently, even exceeding the pain level of childbirth. However, under the effect of the extremely excited nervous system, Fang Bailu could not go into shock or faint.

“…Fuck! Fuck! Fuck—”

Fang Bailu suddenly stuffed the back of his right fist into his mouth and bit it tightly, blocking out the rest of the roar. If he continued to howl like this, he would not be able to issue clear voice commands.

It's funny - now he has to stay absolutely sober and in pain, and this tube of pills can provide both: because in the next plan... pain can also be the "internal force" that can drive the Bitterness Heart Sword.

He took a deep breath and uttered the softest words he had ever said in his life: Now, just the collision between the tongue and teeth would bring a strong and sharp pain.

"Command: "Mirror... expand."

Chapter 190 Song (Part )

It was as if the wind had blown: the clouds of dust and gray smoke that filled the city were distorted like ripples; but there was no fresh feeling on the skin.

Surrounding the trunk of the giant tree, a thin mist composed of light blue spots and blocks of color spread out in all directions - these holographic lights that originally constructed Atong's false body were being reshaped.

As the holographic generator started working again, the second giant tree rose from the smoke and the wreckage of buildings. It was a cartoon-like creation: with a playful "pop" sound effect, the holographic light expanded like a balloon filled with air, and became a tree made of cerebral cortex.

This is a magic of light and shadow. However, due to the change in air humidity caused by the blood and the damage to a large number of holographic generators in the city, the other Xihe girl became blurred at the edges, as if entangled in sticky mist; there were even color blocks that were stretched out like flowing water due to imaging delay.

This reminded Fang Bailu of some seemingly magical stories: when you walk through the forest in the middle of the night, another you will appear in the thick fog illuminated by the moonlight - of course, in this kind of narrative, the second self that is witnessed is mostly a demon in disguise, used to refer to the protagonist's inner demons.

But these strange stories about how to stop children from crying at night do have some practical truth in them.

In the earliest speculation, Fang Bailu thought that the girl from Xihe divided herself into three parts - namely, the superego, ego, and id according to Freud's psychology; Cang Yangzi's statement about "pseudo-immortal" provided circumstantial evidence for this.

Now, these scattered parts have been reunited. In that giant tree that almost spans the sky and earth, the thoughts of ordinary people still reside - or rather, they still do now. But after possessing a neural network that is many times larger than that of humans, and even the auxiliary brain and the external consciousness... who knows what kind of consciousness will eventually be born? By then, perhaps the Xihe girl will have extraordinary emotions and cognition; both feelings and emotions are beyond human understanding, and she will go one step further in the map of civilization advancement.

Just as cats, dogs, chimpanzees, or babies have difficulty understanding some of the complex emotions of adults.

But before that, the synapses of the neuron network that were growing without limit with the secretion of active proteases were still hosted by the soul and spirit of a mortal. The same soul and spirit as Fang Bailu, but with a little more aging. After all, humans are animals constructed by past experiences and experiences - as long as the Xihe girl still maintains self-awareness, she will still comply with this law.

In other words, the plans I prepared are still useful.

Fang Bailu moved his gaze back to the tablet and looked at the icon that looked like "Ten Thousand Swords Piercing the Heart".

He wants to use this to kill the Xihe girl.

……

If he had to choose one thing that was most beyond Fang Bailu’s understanding from his recent turbulent, confusing and weird experiences... he would not choose the Xihe girl or the visualization machine, but the "Sword of the Heart of Suffering".

On the surface, the "Sword of Suffering" is just a lightweight program - even a bit messy. Compassionate Knife described it as: "The code of this thing is a pile of shit. Pah, it's hundreds of years old."

In fact he added a more indignant comment: "And then you still give it such a name? It's slandering Buddha, understand?"

But what the "Kindness Heart Sword" can do is far beyond the magical powers that Fang Bailu has seen so far -

"It's a development tool that directly targets human 'wetware' to re-modify and re-program the mind."

This is the definition that Fang Bailu gave it after extensive practice and contemplation.

In the new era, human thought is not shrouded in so many fogs and veils - Fang Bailu can easily cite several external consciousness product lines that can delete and modify the three souls and seven spirits. However, these product lines have one thing in common: they need a biological chip that directly connects to the nervous system as a hardware carrier. In other words, there must be a "medium" between the brain and the computer.

But the “Sword of Suffering Heart” does not need it.

It does not need to indirectly affect the psychological mechanisms brought about by pleasure and sorrow by controlling endocrine and neurotransmitters; it does not need to break through the layers of firewalls of biochips and write data into them; it does not even require wired or wireless neural electrical signal interaction.

The "Sword of Suffering" can interact with something more metaphysical: something common in human consciousness. It truly grasps many common laws in the human mind, and is a "program" that runs directly in the cognitive system through suggestion and stress; it can influence a person's psychology, which should be closed and self-consistent, from the outside.

To the other party, Bai Lu, this could almost be called "metaphysics".

Even after a lot of practice with the "opponent" he chose, he could only stimulate a few functions pre-stored in the Sword of Suffering.

If the Sword of Suffering Heart is regarded as a martial arts move, then what Fang Bailu is going to perform at this time is its "second move": in addition to depriving those "causes" that cause all kinds of sorrow and suffering in life one by one... What the Sword of Suffering Heart can also do is "give" - ​​"project the sword owner's state of mind, feelings and emotions onto the target's cognitive structure."

"At least that's what it says in the help documentation."

The user manual of the Kuyin Heart Sword is complicated and lengthy, mixed with images of despair and crazy and fragmented autobiographical texts; the developer of the Kuyin Heart Sword seems to be in a strange state before schizophrenia: emotion and rationality squeeze him or her together, almost pushing him or her to the brink of madness.

Is it a side effect of developing such a horrible program? Or is it because of such troubles that he wants some kind of sharp weapon to cut them all off?

It was hard for Fang Bailu to imagine who developed this "tool" - he was reluctant to use the word "weapon" to describe the "Sword of Suffering Heart" and the functions it could achieve - although the name contained a strong Buddhist color, TA's thoughts and ideas were certainly very different from those of Buddhists.

Citizens of New Malaysia have many ways to relieve the troubles they encounter in their daily lives. "Watching" other people's suffering to eliminate their own suffering is one of the ways - even a very efficient one: there is no shortage of legal and legitimate videos of torture and punishment in the depths of digital space. But the operating mechanism of the "Second Style" of the Sword of Suffering runs counter to this: it is a kind of tough catharsis, forcing the other party who is stabbed to understand and digest the feelings of the sword-shooter; it comes from the empathy created by a third party.

After all, all living beings suffer, but each suffers in a different way.

Fang Bailu didn't like this move; after all, in his short but long past life, he had never thought of being an emotional exhibitionist. But as long as he was still alive, he had few choices left for himself.

The pool of blood beneath him had stopped spreading and had become a pool of gemstones reflecting the crimson flames and the light of the explosion, quietly reflecting the doomsday splendor of Kuala Lumpur: between the flickering neon lights, two symmetrical giant trees grew over the top of the city; only one had a shadow and the other did not.

But if someone stares at them for a long time - preferably with modified artificial tear glands installed to moisturize the cornea and conjunctiva without blinking - they will find that the giant tree without a shadow will occasionally turn with indistinguishable distortions or changes in color.

A faint sound of Buddhist chanting echoed in the air: but it was too vague, more like neurological tinnitus.

Those "Mirage"-class holographic generators receive the perceptual cues generated by the Kuyin Heart Sword and its huge random image library, affecting the Xihe girl through the insertion of visual frames.

It was like some kind of lengthy ritual used to treat the gods, a coherent long procedure; the "Kin Heart Sword" had established the link: different from the resonance processing when facing Attala, this time it was a one-way channel from Fang Bailu to the Xihe girl.

The changes that appeared on the giant holographic tree generated by the mirror were a kind of transcoding - the "Kuyin Heart Sword" was recompiling Fang Bailu's "emotions" and "feelings", and "synchronizing" them into the Xihe girl's thinking cognition through various visual or auditory cues.

"That's probably the case... I'm not a scientist, so how can I know the exact principle?"

Fang Bailu interrupted his chaotic thoughts and leaned on a steel bar that was protruding out of nowhere and bent into the shape of a question mark: the handshake building he was in was making an ominous "crackling" sound. Then, he picked up a piece of cement debris scattered beside him.

The piece of cement was damaged in just the right way: one end was narrow and gently curved, just enough to be grasped by hand; the other side was sharp and pointed, looking like a roughly processed earthen dagger.

"I'm so tired... so tired. I want to die... I want to die, I want to die."

Fang Bailu said these words woodenly, but with the sincerity of reciting scriptures. He sincerely hoped that what he said was true.

But the self-suggestion brought by just repeating a few words is certainly far from enough.

So he stood up, stretched out his arm which still trembled, and pointed the tip of the fragment at the broken surface of his right thigh, avoiding the bones.