Cyber ​​Sword Immortal Iron Rain

Kuala Lumpur does not need to be rebuilt:

After experiencing death several months ago, it is like a butterfly shedding its shell, with its broken remains and new body mixed together - at this moment, the ruins stretching for hundreds of square kilometers seem to be what Kuala Lumpur should really look like.

Most of the citizens of Kuala Lumpur became part of the Xihe Girl in the disaster: and those who are still busy on the ruins are from Johor, Kedah, Malacca and Penang; as well as other countries farther away outside New Malaysia.

When all valuable things are taken out from the debris of steel and concrete, a brand new city will rise again from the shattered remains. But before that, people will never tire of digging out the legacy left by the Microcomputer Taoism Research Society.

Camps and outposts for short-term living were built one after another among the ruins; junkmen hawked the items they had just dug out from the rubble, and swordsmen guarded the gold diggers who came here to see the city. The purple, green and pink that once covered the entire city had all disappeared, and even the advertisements were no longer there, replaced by the hawking sounds from loudspeakers.

Compared with the past, Kuala Lumpur at this moment is like circles of dust floating on the ruins of dilapidated walls, but no one can wipe it off easily; the bright temporary lights are coiled in the undulating concrete sand dunes, winding like snakes.

Small hills made of steel and concrete debris stand among the corpses of the city: this is the new landscape of Kuala Lumpur.

……

Kuala Lumpur: This capital city in the south of New Malaysia no longer has so much rain, but the humid and sultry heat has never gone away. Without the neon lights of the city at night, the stars far above are still invisible - thick dark gray clouds still float over Kuala Lumpur, blocking those tiny points of light from who knows how many light years away.

He squatted on top of the cement sand castle, his arms resting on his knees, and the sword he never left leaning against his shoulder: his regenerated body had been several months old, and his delicate and shiny skin faithfully reflected this.

The respirator that originally replaced the entire jaw and lower jaw had been removed from Xin's body and hung around Xin's waist like a talisman. He no longer smoked, so he started chewing bubble gum to keep his mouth busy. But old habits die hard, and Xin would always subconsciously rub the respirator around his waist and fantasize about taking a sip.

Even though this new body was obtained a few months ago, it still retains many of its old addictions, which makes Xin feel a little inconvenient.

He concentrated on moving his cheeks, blowing out light pink bubbles, and swallowing them back into his mouth after the "pop" sound; his eyes never left the gray figure towing a cart not far away.

These are the only traveling merchants in the sector: the ruins where they are located are the original "Bukit Bintang" commercial district, but they were also the most severely damaged in the disaster. Even the garbage collectors are not interested in this place, so there are not many citizens who come here to buy.

But only Arata knew that this man was also the Patriarch of the "Gray King", the highest-ranking official in this sector.

Xin came to find him:

"Hey!"

Shin raised his hand high, motioning the man to come over.

……

The man in the gray top hat dragged the cart behind him and slowly staggered through the debris to the new side. He looked around and focused his attention on the boy in front of him:

"Want one?"

The man in the wide-brimmed hat let go of the cart and placed his left hand on the circle of rat-tail gray on the brim of his hat. His face was also painted gray, with a dividing line at the neck, like an unrendered model.

The alchemy furnace set on the cart was tied up with parachute ropes, like some kind of metal rice dumpling; a dark grey handprint with streaks of paint was printed in the middle of the outer shell of the alchemy furnace set.

This is the mark of cement and flesh, the symbol of the Gray King: in the months after the Kuala Lumpur disaster, the followers of the Gray King have grown at an alarming rate. So have the Great Mysterious Lord, the Old Dream God, the Sloppy Lord, and the Nan Ke Zheng Fa Zhen Jun; these new faiths have quickly filled the vacuum left by the collapse of the Research Institute.

But few people know that behind the brilliance of these new idols, there is only the illusion left by the same person.

The man knocked on the slender tripod of the alchemy furnace, and the cracked display screen on the furnace surface flickered weakly, flashing green light. The man in the wide-brimmed hat stomped hard on the hill of cement debris under his feet, with little emotion in his drooping eyes:

"The 'genuine' copies left by the research institute are all out of print. If you want to find them later, they will be gone."

The light from the furnace illuminated the young boy's face. He could see the tiny embryos floating in the furnace.

The man in the grey hat sells quick-ripening offspring. This is very popular in the ruins of Kuala Lumpur, where the population is only about one in a hundred and there is an urgent need for labor. He is just a follower of the Grey King, but he is selling the goods dug up by the garbage men; this seems to indicate that the followers of the Grey King and the Dirty Man are merging: just like the people who are still alive in the ruins of Kuala Lumpur at this time, all have overlapping and ambiguous identities.

At this moment, a customer with extra money can buy a "child" bred on the spot from these merchants at a low price - even though the child has no blood or kinship relationship with the customer:

However, before the Kuala Lumpur disaster, you could get these "offspring" for free from the Microcomputer Taoism Research Association. Because what was bred in the furnace group was not a real, natural human being; it was a hundred babies.

These were once tools to solve the problem of declining birthrates, but now they have become some kind of souvenirs of the collapsed giant.

Xin stared at the gray-hatted alchemy furnace group in a daze - with less than five hours of cultivation, these fist-sized embryos would be able to mature into new individuals with adult intelligence and physical strength.

During these days, he has seen many newly born babies from various families.

Gray Hat obviously misunderstood the meaning of the new. He weighed his hat and took out a tattered thick booklet from the corner of the cart; this was for customers with more advanced requirements:

"You can also 'take a shot.' Taking a shot is more popular."

Xin took the tattered, wrinkled and damaged thick book from the gray hat; it was a laminated photo album:

"Pick one and buy it. And - no one else can buy the same one from me and take it home. I swear on the Gray King."

The babes were popular in Singapore and Malaysia for a while, but when they faded, most people forgot that there were actually different sizes of babes. Although they were different in gender, age, height, weight, and size, you could always easily find two babes that looked very similar, but differed only in the details. Maybe it was just the position of a mole, or the density or sparseness of freckles.

The man in the gray hat in front of me was selling the templates of "Bai Jia Ying" - the "exclusive rights" to some models.

"You pay the money, buy out, and I deliver the goods. I guarantee that no one can buy the same one as you, except for the child in the furnace."

Everyone wants a unique child: Although no organization has actually conducted a survey, it seems that most people think this way.

Xin held the album in his hands and flipped through it. It seemed that every time a template was sold, Gray Hat would tear off the page with the portrait and information. Judging from the number of missing pages, Gray Hat's business was not very good. Then, Xin found the face that he had only seen a few times but remembered in his heart:

"I want her."

……

……

Chapter 254: Induction (Part )

……

……

No one knows what the future birth rules will be: will they be as casual as when the research institute was still there, or will they be changed to centralized birth and breeding like the Luzon or Java groups?

Out of fear of the unknown, few people would refuse a cheap Baijia baby at this time. This is also one of the reasons why the gray hat business is doing well now.

"Just her, right? Okay, no problem."

Gray Hat took out a rusty utility knife from his pocket and cut along the edge of the album. His knife was crooked, but Xin didn't care: in today's Kuala Lumpur, such verbal contracts don't have much legal effect.

Xin took the page that Gray Hat had passed to him, looked at it in the sunlight for a while, then carefully folded it up and put it in the small bag of his backpack:

"Take it back and give it to them as a gift..."

On the other side, Gray Hat skillfully opened the suitcase on the cart, pulled out the small compartment, and placed it in front of the new one - as if the transaction was not yet over:

"We have some more goods. Take a look. 'Living limbs'. They are all fresh."

Clusters of transparent, yellowish, rope-shaped things float in the nutrient solution; they are placed in a long glass bottle with grids of gray-black foam sponges embedded in it.

"They look a little small, but they are all standard products. They are not blended for ease of use. If you want, they can be cultivated and ripened on site."

On the outside of each long bottle, there is a piece of white tape with a group of words written in pen: "Yunyun (full blood version)", "Raging Horse-San", "Buzhe Yu"...

They are all names of artificial meridian products, and each of them was well-known in the market of New Malaysia in the past.

A new glance: Gray Hat's products are indeed very complete. "Living limbs" is a slang term that has emerged today to evade copyright claims that may still exist. Perhaps in the long run, this nickname will replace the original name.

Artificial meridians are also a fashionable item nowadays, and are the last remaining ray of light from the era of the Microcomputer Taoism Research Society.

It’s just that most of the artificial meridians sold in the ruins are pirated products that have been made through re-molding; they are not as good as the genuine ones in terms of performance, power and user experience: but the after-sales maintenance of artificial meridians has regressed along with the destruction of Kuala Lumpur, so the gap between the two is not that big.

But I just learned that the items in Gray Hat's cart were all genuine products - at least, they were the same products as those in the hands of the Microcomputer Taoism Research Association.

The reason is simple. The supplier of these artificial meridians is either someone else or Xin.

He shook his head, indicating his disinterest to the gray hat:

"And one more thing……"

Xin pointed at the gray hat and said:

"I'm not here for you, I'm here for 'it'."

"……?say what?"

The man in the gray hat took a step back, squinting his eyes and looking around; one hand touched his waist - he seemed to think Xin was a madman or a robber; both types of people are not uncommon in Kuala Lumpur nowadays.

Shin raised his index and middle fingers and tapped his eye sockets. Then he tapped his head:

"Emergency communication code: Ten directions, ten thousand flowers, black, terrifying, yellow millet, amygdala, manifest. Let it out."

The man in the gray hat was stunned: he really seemed to not understand what Xin was talking about.

……

And the next moment——

All the complicated and incomprehensible expressions disappeared from his face, like a sand painting being wiped away. Gray Hat silently opened the small bag at his waist, solemnly and carefully took out something from it, and raised it to his face -

It was a pair of black-framed glasses. Brand new and clean, but with plastic mold lines and burrs on the edges and corners; like a rough mass-produced product.

The man in the gray hat rubbed the temples of his glasses with his fingertips, then slowly put on his black-framed glasses until the nose pads were firmly fixed on the bridge of his nose.

Xin waited silently, without saying a word:

The patriarchs of the "Gray King" have all pre-stored special stress mechanisms - a set of simple action combinations, which will automatically execute the corresponding action groups when they hear or read the corresponding "action codes".

The next moment, without any warning—

hum!

The lens in the frame suddenly turned into a white light: a light like a strong flashlight burst out from the rounded rectangle on the other side, even illuminating the man's face.

Shin rubbed his eyes and his sight fell on the top of the gray-hatted man's head: he was too lazy to open his third eye, but he knew that there was a being falling from the clouds, along the cableway of the Internet and numbers, and sneaking into the top of the mortal's head.

……

After a while, the light in the lens dimmed slightly, becoming two bright pale lights:

And a new consciousness entered the body of the man in the top hat.

Downlink completed.

……

A gust of wind blew by, lifting the plastic bags and films in the ruins, making them draw irregular curves. Since the rain stopped in Kuala Lumpur and the buildings collapsed, the most common thing among the ruins was the fluctuating air currents.

There seemed to be some kind of invisible but tangible circle arranged around Xin and the man in the gray hat - occasionally a few Kuala Lumpur citizens approached the ruins, but turned around and left before they got close.

The man in the gray hat casually set up a ban and drove away those irrelevant vagrants. Compared with a moment ago, his body seemed to be taller, but his posture was more stiff and weird; it was like a model without a properly bound skeleton:

"It's urgent, it's urgent to this extent."

The "Gray Hat", who was completely different from a moment ago, pushed the frame upwards with the base of his palm, and a rustling sound came from the lens:

"Why do we need to meet in person? We should have already discussed the cargo."

Xin had the rough draft of artificial meridians in his hand - this was left behind by Fang Bailu before he left New Malaysia - which also made him perhaps the only remaining "genuine" supplier in New Malaysia.

He didn't know whether the man he was talking to was the man named "Jie Shouzhen" or the ancient being called "Hexadecimal Supreme Heavenly Demon". Before Xin was swallowed by the Xihe girl, they had never crossed paths; they only met a few times during the reconstruction of Kuala Lumpur.

Shin was concentrating on chewing his bubble gum, while his fingers subconsciously moved the mask on his waist - when it came to the topic of this meeting, his urge to smoke became even stronger:

"I think something's going to happen with the boss."

The man in the gray hat crossed his fingers and placed them over his belly. He scratched his index fingertips, revealing a hint of surprise; and the light from the lenses cast a new face:

"Hmm... yeah. Are you feeling it?"

A pair of glowing lenses - you can never tell whether the person behind the flash is looking at you. So Xin looked past him and looked at the clouds farther away.

"The feeling has been getting stronger over the past few days. It's much more intense than...than when I was still here."

Gray Hat turned his eyes away and walked slowly:

"Ha! It seems that some people's special abilities have started to work again."

Xin scratched his nose, blew the bubbles in his mouth and chewed them again. He ignored the strange taste in the other person's words. Xin was not good at understanding other people's emotions:

"How much of your 'body' have you put back together? It should be useful in time."

"..."

The light emitted by the lens became more dazzling - I don't know how many lumens, but I can see the man's tightly furrowed brows.

Some more intense emotion seemed to surge into the man's heart. But his tone was as calm as before, and the words he spoke were like a string of cannonballs:

"It takes time to collect, filter, and redistribute the power. There aren't enough converts...far from enough. The computing power is far from enough. Hatching a new god is not as simple as you think."

"The magical power we installed for Mr. Fang is enough to protect himself, and the firepower we equipped can destroy half of Manila--"

The man in the gray hat waved his hand toward the concrete ruins around him, signaling:

"If what Mr. Fang encountered can destroy him... to be honest, then we should just stay here. It's better to develop for 50 years and wait for the new god to be fully nurtured before attacking Manila. It's better than going there one by one to die."

Snapped!

Xin burst another bubble: