Cyber ​​Sword Immortal Iron Rain

"It's like staying up all night in an Internet cafe for three consecutive days and memorizing an entire advanced mathematics textbook..."

He was thinking wildly, but he didn't understand whether this metaphor was correct: it was just Fang Bailu's extreme imagination of an exhausted brain.

Discount information from various old-world shopping websites, cursed letters that said "Send it to twelve friends, or you'll be in trouble", and some games that kept getting delayed until he hibernated for more than ten years before notifying them of their release...

Fang Bailu couldn't remember how many sexy dealers she had seen in online casinos dealing poker cards in a dazzling manner.

"If I had known earlier, I would have cancelled all those messy email accounts!" Although Fang Bailu felt like his brain had turned into paste, he still couldn't help but complain in his heart.

He tried to calm down and imagine a picture in his mind:

A string of beads made of neural tubes and neon bulbs, with endless data emerging from it, the blue and purple beads rotate endlessly...

This was the little trick that Compassionate Blade had once taught him: visualizing the Dharma instruments in the digital space could calm the "Alaya consciousness" that had been polluted by the physical organs.

I heard that in order to avoid the influence of brain hormones on the Alaya consciousness, Buddhist disciples will eventually choose a purely mechanical body, or become enlightened and become electronic Buddhas.

Although Fang Bailu didn't understand the principle, he had to admit that after some contemplation, the information rushing around in his mind finally calmed down a bit.

"Luckily, I wasn't turned into an idiot by the big information, otherwise I would be blind and stupid now..."

After calming down the turmoil in his brain a little, Fang Bailu began to feel his electronic body again.

In a daze, he felt as if his body was covered with a layer of dry, hard paper, as if he was naked and his entire body was wrapped in cardboard with transparent tape.

Information in the digital space is often transcoded into tactile signals as much as possible - just as the skin is the largest organ in the human body, the proportion of touch in information reception can even exceed that of vision.

After some thought, Fang Bailu came to a conclusion: this layer of "cardboard" was the first batch of spam that stuck to his body.

"After reading these emails once, I never received any more messages from them...but why didn't they disappear?"

Without bothering to ponder these doubts, he tried to move his body:

An indescribable feeling of stagnation came from every joint. In his "previous life", he had sprained his ankle while playing basketball and had to wear an ankle brace for two months. Now Fang Bailu felt that his whole body was covered with tight "ankle braces", and he wore more than ten layers at a time.

Fang Bailu's legs couldn't touch any solid ground at all, and only the dry touch of the read emails came from the soles of her feet, rough and dry.

“It’s like swimming in a full-body suit of lead armor.”

A strange metaphor popped into his mind: freed from the shackles of the flesh, his imagination became a little confused.

"Wait... where did all those other emails go?"

Fang Bailu still remembered that from the database of the dead companies in the old world, blocks of information like meteorites from outer space were flying towards him.

The fragments of the iceberg that make my eyes burn just by glancing at them from a distance are not limited to just a hundred or so emails.

After hesitating for a while, he was ready to open his eyes: if he didn't get more information about the current situation, it would be tantamount to waiting for death.

"Well?"

It was as if his eyelids were glued shut and he couldn't open them: his electronic body was completely unable to start transcoding visual signals.

He tried to listen carefully, trying to take in all possible sounds around him: but it was quieter here than on Alo Street at noon. This meant that there was no information nearby that could be converted into auditory signals.

Fang Bailu felt around: without visual and auditory signals, he could only rely on other information inputs.

He stretched out his hands carefully around, but all he felt was nothing, without even a trace of air resistance.

"Got it!" After some searching, I finally felt a slight touch from my fingertips:

This means that Fang Bailu finally encountered something that was exchanging data.

But the touch was very faint, as if Fang Bailu was wearing several layers of welding gloves on his hands.

He tapped it a few times with his fingertips, and finally placed the center of his palm lightly on it: the palm is more sensitive than the fingertips and can perceive more information.

The square touch pressed against the palm of his hand, and the slight concave feeling told him that it was a hole.

"Is this the entrance to the memory...?" The memory that is physically connected to oneself will not be too far away from the electronic body.

Fang Bailu was both happy and surprised:

The good news is that as long as he enters the memory, he can let Mercy Blade help him solve the current dilemma. As an excellent hacker, Mercy Blade obviously has more means than himself.

The reason for the surprise was that: when I had previously visually inspected it, it felt like the memory was at least twice the size of my electronic body. How come it was so small now?

"Maybe the neural pipelines are too fake... Never mind, let's go in first."

In the darkness, Fang Bailu put his fingers together and cautiously reached towards the cave entrance.

The electronic body is not a real physical body, but just a concrete form created by the mixture of three souls and seven spirits and computer code, so he is not worried about getting stuck.

"Fuck... this is too tight."

The narrow hole tightly clamped his palm.

For a moment, Fang Bailu felt as if the kitchen sink in his "previous life" was clogged and he tried to reach his hand in to dig out food crumbs.

The tight feeling spread from the back of the hand to the wrist, and then to the forearm.

Fang Bailu finally managed to get his entire palm into the memory.

But that was the end: he couldn't go in an inch further, the edge of the hole was harder than a sink.

Fang Bailu pulled his hand back in dismay:

"It's such a small entrance, I don't know how Daozi got in."

and many more……

A terrible guess flashed through his mind:

"Could it be that my electronic body...has grown larger?"

The impact of the previous information on Bai Lu was so great that he did not think of this possibility for a while.

Could it be that those huge collections of mail did not maintain their meteorite-like form, but spread out layer by layer and stuck to themselves, just like the first batch of spam mails did...

The more he thought about it, the closer this idea came to his current situation:

If an avalanche of spam enveloped me like body-plastic foam, I should be unable to move.

But the sluggishness in movement, the feeling of being tightly wrapped all over, and the seemingly shrunken entrance to the memory...

The current situation is like wearing a thick coat made of countless spam emails... No, it's like someone has carved a huge statue with him as the center.

But without sufficient reference, Fang Bailu could not confirm this conjecture.

The most important and urgent question now is how to get out of this situation...

Otherwise, let alone helping with the Mercy Sword, you can’t even protect yourself.

"Let's restart..." This is a method he has used from the old world to the new century, and it has worked every time.

……

Fang Bailu tried to open his eyes, but it was still pitch black: he was still trapped in a pile of spam in the digital space.

"System self-check! Forced offline! Shut down the running system!"

Fang Bailu issued one command after another in his mind, but there was no response or effect.

"…I'm not going to be stuck here like this, am I?"

The horrible possibility loomed in his mind like a neon billboard.

"Impossible, there must be a way..." Fang Bailu shook off the messy thoughts: He is not the kind of person who would give up.

While he was thinking, a sound as thin as a mosquito's buzz floated faintly and penetrated into his mind.

"Uncle Fang...Uncle Fang..."

"Is this Daozi's voice?!"

Chapter 40: Colors from Beyond Heaven (Part )

"How long has it been?" Fang Bailu could not feel the passage of time, nor could he adjust the clock panel.

"Uncle Fang...Uncle Fang..."

The faint call of the Mercy Blade was still coming from a very far distance.

Fang Bailu hesitated for a moment:

"…We can only try to use physical means to force him offline."

If Fang Bailu was traveling through his spiritual orifices, then removing the neural line and physically disconnecting him would be a dead end:

His soul will forever wander in the digital space until he turns into a ghost or is devoured by wild AI or monsters. His body will also become a vegetable or even die of brain death.

The flesh body that has been "unplugged" is valuable whether it is sold separately or as a whole. Although Fang's hardware store does not handle this kind of business, Fang Bailu has heard that the human breeding farms in the Philippines are doing a booming business, and many evil monks are their customers.

But Fang Bailu is now using the old-fashioned neural signal transmission electrodes.

If the spiritual orifices plus the neural pipelines are like traveling to the digital space...

The electrode patch is more like putting on a VR device and remotely controlling a "robot" to travel around the house - the three souls and seven spirits still remain in the body. Of course, this also makes the effect of the electrode patch's trance travel much worse than the former.

"Safe products are the best products..."

Fang Bailu raised his heavy hands, which seemed to be tied with layers of sandbags, and reached towards his head.

He rubbed his fingers around his temples and moved them:

This is the second reason why neural signal transmission electrodes are now on the verge of being eliminated from the market: when in a trance state, the physical body in the real world will still have some slight activity due to neural signals.

Wandering in the mind through the spiritual orifices is a dream during deep sleep, and the user of the electrode patch suffers from sleepwalking.

“…I wonder if you’ve encountered it?”

Even if electrodes are used, physical disconnection is a very dangerous behavior. Many people suffer from paranoia or bipolar disorder after being disconnected.

But Fang Bailu discovered one thing when he was doing product research: most of the patients had their electrodes knocked off when they were simulating dual cultivation or other intense exercises, because their movements were too large. The overly strong neural signals were mixed with reality, which caused all kinds of symptoms.

But considering that his five senses are almost closed now, the danger should not be that great.

Even if the danger is this serious, Fang Bailu will not sit still and wait for death.

He scratched his temple harder and harder - gradually, a hard touch came from his fingertips, and some bright patches of flesh color mixed with light red could be seen faintly in the pure darkness before his eyes.

Fang Bailu was delighted:

"The electrode is loose!"

These are what his real eyeballs feel, the inner part of his eyelids illuminated by light.

Fang Bailu focused his attention on the hardness of his fingertips, trying to find the gap between the skin and the electrodes...

A slight pain came from my temple: the adhesive surface of the electrode was separated from the skin.

The darkness was like a curtain lit by flames, burning large holes one after another:

From the gap, the scene inside the Mercy Knife workshop was shone in.

His body felt as light as a feather and yet as heavy as a rock - this confusing feeling was different from the ultimate experience of falling into the sea of ​​information, only weird and uncomfortable.

Snapped.

Two electrodes fell to the floor, making a crisp sound:

Fang Bailu returned to the real world.

"what……"

There were waves of burning pain around my temples: the scratching in my previous trance state had torn the skin here.

Fang Bailu raised his hand to touch his aching temple, but a slap hit his face instead:

The pulling sensation caused by the bloated electronic body had not disappeared yet, causing him to misjudge the strength.

He stood up shakily and stomped his feet hard to relieve the numbness from maintaining a fixed posture.

Mercy Knife was still lying on the table top, and the light from the sixteen display screens cast a halo on the back of his head.

“I’m going to…?”

The neatly stacked row of mainframes were emitting sparks and smoke.

"Some parts are burned..." Fang Bailu knew at a glance that there must be something wrong with the fighting method of the Compassion Sword.

He took a step forward to the workbench and almost bumped into the display screen - the studio was too small.

The two words "Uncle Fang" scrolled endlessly on the screen like the barrage on a video website in my "previous life".