Cyber ​​Sword Immortal Iron Rain

The long cone is still moving forward.

It passed through the cement, steel bars and concrete between the buildings, leaving only holes as thick as wrists; until it completely left the scope of Kuala Lumpur - it might eventually fall into a corner of the wilderness, but it would no longer have anything to do with this moment.

……

Fang Bailu pressed his hands into the cement at his feet, using friction to reduce the momentum, and stopped abruptly next to Erni and Anbennola: he was not familiar enough with the power output of this prosthesis, so he could only slow down in this way.

He supported Erni, who had fallen to the ground without the support of her scarf, and held her in shock on his shoulders. Even though she was unconscious, she held the hilt of the knife tightly with both hands: the blade scraped against Fang Bailu's body, making a sharp "crackling" sound. So Fang Bailu gently placed the swordsman beside his legs and let her lean on him.

Anbenola sat cross-legged, holding her ankle with her remaining left hand. She stared at her right arm that was cut off by a long spike, as indifferent as usual.

She suddenly said:

"Among those three fruits, one is——"

Fang Bailu still stood behind the nun, looking down at her from top to bottom. He interrupted the Qigong practitioner with a mechanical synthesized voice:

"Let's rest first."

After a short silence, she raised her voice again:

"You still have...still..."

Ambenola stopped talking halfway.

"Me? It will take quite some time." Fang Bailu curled up his fingers and knocked on the outer shell of the chest cavity. From inside came the sound of the life-support fluid flowing; "I... He won't be possessed. Only I."

"…Why bother?"

Fang Bailu didn't know how to answer, so the two of them fell into unbearable silence again.

Until he suddenly felt weight on his legs, from the softness of his hair to the smooth touch of his carbon fiber robe. Anbenola leaned against Fang Bailu's hard and sharp shell, no matter how painful that contact would be:

"I'm so sleepy. And I'm hungry."

She raised her head and looked at the optical lens of Fang Bailu's protruding eye sockets. So he also answered:

"Then let's go back to the store and get something to eat."

"Yeah, okay..."

The pressure sensors on the calves and knees sent precise readings, sometimes stronger, sometimes weaker. Anbenola's back pressed against Fang Bailu's legs, rising and falling with his gradually calming breathing.

Fang Bailu was sure that she was asleep, and sleeping soundly. This inexplicably made him feel a little happy and calm: the virtual cerebral cortex was quietly secreting digital endorphins.

Without the heavy right hand that could split gold and stone, the Qigong practitioner's body felt lighter. He bent down slightly, stretched out his hand, and tucked Anbennola's messy hair behind her ears; he also straightened Erni's slightly slumped sleeping position.

Fang Bailu stood up again. He no longer felt tired, unless the low battery warning quietly reminded him. So he stood there, intending to wait until they woke up from their nap.

"It would be nice if it could be like this in the future..."

Yes, what should we do “later”?

……

I don't know how long it took - Fang Bailu had seen enough of the ruined city and the three fruits pulsating in the center of the city. So he adjusted the position of the optical lenses on both sides, aiming them at the sky: in fact, he just raised his head. In fact, even in the brightest day, his sight can penetrate the atmosphere and the asteroid belt, cross the edge of the solar system, and step into the endless Milky Way that rotates forever.

But he just changed the settings carefully to maintain the vision of the human eye.

Whether in the past or now - this was the first time he truly raised his head and saw the starry sky.

It was already night. The lights of Kuala Lumpur were reduced to candle-like spots, a gentle mirror reflecting the stars and the moon. The stars of the night sky emerged in silence, like a handful of crystal sand sprinkled into the sky.

The stars are twinkling.

Someone once told him and asked him a question - a person who had never existed and had now disappeared: What would the scene be like on the other side of the starry sky?

The emotions he had when he was still a human slowly unfolded in his electronic brain - these incomprehensible surges now became a visualized star map. The resentment and hatred, the love and separation, and the unfulfilled desires were carefully separated by the electronic brain, so that Fang Bailu could examine himself more clearly.

A universe in the human heart: all kinds of desires and thoughts are like burning chaos, far more violent and turbid than the storm in the depths of the starry sea; memories roll endlessly, forming red-hot fireballs and ever-burning stars.

They all come from the head in the chest and the brain under the skull; they are copies of everything that makes us human.

But among them there is the newest and brightest one: it is not transplanted from the cerebral cortex of the past and simulated by a virtual machine; it is brand new, born from the thoughts and wishes of Fang Bailu at this moment.

It comes from old memories, someone's promise, electronic illusions, the rise and fall of hormones; after being hatched by love, regret and pain, it has become a small wish that runs through the three souls and seven spirits at this moment. The first time I have a simple and weak real desire:

The Milky Way is just twinkling. It is the light ball on the ceiling, illuminating the people who never stop dancing on the dance floor; the neon lights at midnight are its imitations, also with a light that is cold but pure; can the waterfalls outside the sky provide me with a peaceful sanctuary?

I want to go see - I want to see the stars. What would it be like?

……

Finally, Fang Bailu simply closed the cover of the camera and emitted a light and flat synthetic sound from the speaker:

"Wow, it's really beautiful."

The fire of karma is extinguished and Ruilian is seen

Chapter 195: Unfilial Piety (I)

This year, Pingsui married another good wife: according to the folk tradition of Luzon Island, this was his fifth concubine.

"Master, I have had heartburn every day recently. I'm afraid my stomach wall can't take it. There are five of us, but only one stomach..."

The speaker was the eldest wife, Pingsui's principal wife. When she was doing the "relocation", the doctor failed, and the woman from Cebu City suffered from epilepsy ever since.

This long-winded talk about the digestive system came from the complaints that the legal wife dared not speak out - in just a year and a half, Pingsui had taken in three concubines.

The principal wife and the most favored third concubine had the opportunity to graft their heads onto the pre-prepared torso that served as the wife's container; the second concubine signed an agreement, with her soul squeezed into the principal wife's brain stem, and she was awake for three hours a day; as for the fourth concubine - as the provider of the body, although her soul had been cleansed, she legally automatically became one of the concubines of ordinary years.

“…Hey, hey…”

The hands that were hooked around Pingsui's neck were withdrawn and gently patted on his shoulders; a weak sigh and a quiet stench came from above his head. This was the comfort from his old father: his father's upper body was connected to Pingsui's back, that is, the third thoracic vertebra, and the father and son could only sleep sideways at night; the extra burden also forced him to strengthen his lumbar spine.

Pingsui turned his head and spat fiercely; then he casually wiped the scar on his chest left by the surgery.

As for his mother, she just passed away a few days ago - Pingsui often feels lucky for this. When he came of age, his parents chose to "be the one who enjoys the company of his wife": only the upper half of his mother's body above the stomach was left, connected to Pingsui's torso; that is to say, until last month, Pingsui had no eyes for anything other than his mother's breasts that were as shriveled as woven bags.

But that day, when the whole family turned their deceased mother into food in their stomachs and completed the "Great Circulation", Pingsui still shed tears: Where can we make up for the missing computing power of a brain?

He didn't want to take another concubine. Who could feed so many mouths? The little money he got from praying to the gods with his parents' heads was just enough to keep his family afloat; now it was reduced by one third.

But... it is absolutely impossible not to hold some happy event to bring good luck.

If the temple thinks he is unlucky, he will have to sell his wives to the Taihai for money - then when he becomes as old and decayed as his father, whose body should he find a place to live in?

He hunched his increasingly heavy back, pulled open the plastic curtain that served as the door, and walked out. His father pressed his head against the rough door frame.

……

Sanguliguato is a small village, only three to five hours away from downtown Manila. Located on the coastline, its biggest specialty is "water gold" -

Pingsui is now going to the beach to look for the garbage that has drifted over from the Axis of the Dao Kingdom, the Pan-Asian Tropical Lake Special Region, and New Malaysia.

The villagers who were not on duty at the temple to offer sacrifices during their free time, or who were not recruited to work at the chain stores, often wandered on the beach mixed with metal, plastic, soil and rocks, trying to pick up some sophisticated electronic products that were not completely broken.

After the father and son worked together to repair it, agents from both the Taihai chain and the South Java Group would be interested in recycling it, and they could also supplement their family income a little.

The low shacks are like bumpy psoriasis, clinging to the border between the sea and the land. Streams of bodily fluids, wastewater, and alchemy reagents flow past residents' homes, covering the hastily polished brick roads; a layer of human grease often floats on the surface of the sewage, emitting a green or red glare under the scorching sun of the Luzon sky.

If you use a drone to look down from above, you will see a surprisingly gorgeous scene: colorful shining lines cut through the black rectangular array, like a carefully designed oil painting.

Pingsui stumbled out of the door, trying to keep his balance with his slender legs and two hind feet: the hind feet once belonged to his father, but now extended from Pingsui's lumbar vertebrae like two strange long tails, pushing feebly on the dirty sidewalk. They were swollen due to old blood vessels, but still had a kind of hard and stubborn strength, stronger than Pingsui's own legs.

The vitality of the village poured into his ears: the grinding of lathes, the knocking of tools, the mutual scolding and urging of relatives... all carried the unique heat and warmth of Luzon.

On ordinary days, I waded through the shiny dirty water and stumbled down the slippery hundred steps; the gray beach was just in front of me. There were no other villagers on the road: in order to "welcome the gods" at the upcoming festival, the neighbors were busy -

At this moment, Pingsui saw his family’s “destiny”, “wealth”, and “glory”.

……

It seemed like a parade of theater troupes, or a merchant fleet whose business was not doing well.

A shabby barge without a sail or propeller was stuck on the beach, its hull covered with red rust and cracks covered with moss.

A yellow wild dog was squatting on the bow of the barge, shaking off the sea water on its body; on the deck behind it were several strange-looking men and women, some sitting and some standing (there was also a dwarf or a child jumping around, which looked very funny), but they could not be seen clearly in the distorted air emitted by the hull.

But Pingsui didn't care about the details. He just used his hands as a curtain to block the glaring sunlight and counted quietly:

"One, two; one, two; two hands, two feet, a head... Oh. Either they are widows, or they are unfilial children. Pah!"

Pingsui rolled his eyes almost backwards, and the contempt and disdain that came out of him actually aroused a little pride in his family's joyful harmony.

"...No, son, this is not right." The skinny hand on his shoulder suddenly tightened, and there was a crackling sound from his back as his joints were stretched. An indistinct mutter came from above Pingsui's head; "Too much... too much..."

"Too much? Too much... too much!"

The heart is contracting and relaxing at an unprecedented rate, injecting a bit of clarity and wisdom into Ping Sui, who has been drowsy all day due to lack of blood supply and lack of brain oxygen for many years:

Yes! Too many!

There are so many widows and widowers walking on the road, they should have been taken back to the fields and animal pens by the contractors in Taihai long ago!

Good luck, good luck!

they are……

"Tourists...foreigners...traveling merchants...it's all possible, but it doesn't matter...son, the festival is coming soon..."

Perhaps because they were twins, or perhaps because they could sense the joy of the same heart, the father put his hand around Pingsui's right ear, leaned over, and whispered in a hoarse and dry voice:

"Go... ask the 'adults' to come... they are the most generous."

Pingsui didn't bother to push away the rough and slippery hand beside his ear. He just turned around and ran away on all fours:

"Shut your dog mouth, old bastard! I don't need your instruction!"

"It's coming! I'm going to get it—"

Chapter 196: Unfilial Piety (Part )

"Fuck, what a loss."

Fang Bailu held the black-framed glasses in front of his face, using the scorching sunlight to analyze the various cracks and gaps on the temples. Previously, he thought that the glasses were made of tortoise shell dye; but with his extraordinary eyesight now, the mixed plastic could no longer be hidden.

The simulated three souls and seven spirits made him feel a little regretful and resentful, but then he put it behind him.

"Mother Gan Lin, it's so hot it's killing me!"

The seventeen joints on Erni's left arm "Jade Shoot Tip" all unfolded and deformed, rotating regularly, turning into a fan with strong wind. The sea breeze with the smell of chemicals blew past, making her ponytails swing left and right.

Although he was complaining about the high temperature in Luzon, the swordsman still jumped up and down to vent his inexhaustible energy.

"Wang!"

Master Huang Wu at the bow responded in a flattering manner, sticking out his long tongue and panting in a pretentious manner. This broken barge without a power source was pulled across the ocean by this monster all the way.

"Uh, uh, huh... wah--cough cough! wah--"

Fang Bailu quietly turned his eyes and focused his sight on the source of the continuous vomiting——

Anbenola, who had somehow become seasick, was lying on the railing at the stern, and his only remaining arm was crushing one railing after another.

call!

The five-colored light passed by her, causing Fang Bailu to quickly look away.

When she started to feel seasick, "Bluegrass" drew a sword circle on the deck around her - Ambenola's original words were: "If you walk into this circle, spend money to buy new prostheses!"

……

It had been more than a month since they left Kuala Lumpur. They first drove from west to east across the central part of New Malaysia to Kuantan Port, then sailed northwards via Sarawak and Sabah; after three weeks of drifting on the sea, they finally landed on Luzon Island.

Fang Bailu wiped the lenses on his shirt and put the whole pair of glasses neatly into his chest pocket:

This is the relic of the Mercy Knife.

Mercy Knife is dead - at least, his physical body disappeared without a trace in the war that destroyed Kuala Lumpur.

It is unknown whether he died in the collapse of a building in Kuala Lumpur, or whether he was transformed into a part of an immortal. As far as Fang Bailu knows, none of the "locals" born in Kuala Lumpur have escaped the fate of becoming an immortal.

but--

As a well-trained Buddhist, Compassion Blade had preserved his bardo body in digital form and stored it in the cloud before his physical death. As long as Fang Bailu could find a physical body for him to die in, he could be "resurrected".

However, even though Fang Bailu searched all the caves and places for meditation that Compassion Blade had buried in advance, he could not find any trace of his bardo body.

Until someone sent a clue, or a commission.