Cyber ​​Sword Immortal Iron Rain

Fang Bailu scratched his head and tried to suppress the annoyance in his heart, then clicked the square icon of "App Market":

"Network connection error, please use another app installation method."

"Other installation methods? Where can I find them..."

He sighed and turned his attention to the next icon:

There is more content in "Settings", but there are only two options: "Airplane mode" and "Connect peripherals".

Fang Bailu suddenly felt a surge of hope:

"By the way, maybe it's because the airplane mode is on that the connection fails."

As a result, Fang Bailu slid the "Airplane Mode" switch back and forth more than a dozen times, but when he opened the "App Market", he still got the same "Network Connection Error".

"...Tsk."

He let out a breath of foul air in hatred, trying to clear out the depression and disappointment that were almost accumulating to the top, and clicked "Connect peripherals" again.

The cold words popped up mechanically:

"No available peripherals were found."

……

“…Fuck you!”

Fang Bailu could no longer bear the negative emotions accumulating in his heart and threw the phone behind his head.

He covered his face with his hands, anger and resentment burning down his throat like a line of fire, burning his stomach and causing it to spasm:

"Mystery! Everything is a mystery and a trap! What a messed up era! Fuck you..."

For a moment, the depression, fear, boredom and frustration of these days came to my mind all at once.

After a while, he finally put down his hands tremblingly. During his days of living alone, Fang Bailu had already learned how to regulate his emotions.

"…The phone should be okay, right?"

Even when he was on the verge of collapse, Fang Bailu still remembered to aim at the spring mattress behind him - he often threw his phone onto the bed in his previous life, but this was the first time he did it after waking up.

It doesn't matter if you get angry, but if you take it out on valuable things you'll suffer a great loss.

Fang Bailu wiped his face a few times and was about to stand up:

He didn't have much hope for Shou Niang's so-called "deposit", but this useless thing still made him -

Boom!

A strong impact and dizziness came from the top of his head, as if someone had hit him hard on the head with a hammer wrapped in a towel:

"Someone attacked me?!"

Fang Bailu endured the pain and fell to the ground, rolling to the side nimbly and swiftly:

He had practiced the evasive maneuver many times, and he rolled out smoothly.

He rolled towards the mattress like a tire: there was a manual switch for the bedroom's defense mechanism. Whoever had bypassed the surveillance device and the alarm system would have a chance if he could touch there -

"……Forehead?"

Fang Bailu covered his head with one hand and stopped his deformed tactical rolling action.

He saw something floating in the air above the chair, which was the culprit for the severe pain in his head:

It's that cell phone.

……

Fang Bailu climbed onto the workbench carefully and stood up. He turned on the "flight mode" on his phone and threw it out.

It fell from a height of more than two meters.

As if sinking into an invisible pile of sand, the phone's falling trend became slower and slower.

Finally, after falling only a few dozen centimeters, it stopped falling completely and hovered in the air.

Fang Bailu jumped off the workbench and looked around at the motionless phone. Finally, he stood on tiptoe and stretched out his hand, pushing the bottom of the phone:

It feels rough to the touch, and even if you put in a lot of effort you can only push it a tiny distance.

"Are you kidding me? It's really a literal flight mode? What a joke, so boring..."

Fang Bailu muttered viciously, but the joy in his heart was bubbling out like a spring.

"This thing is really not simple..."

He stretched out his arms, trying to reach the "airplane mode" switch on the screen.

This mobile phone seems to have some strange mechanism: if it leaves Fang Bailu's body for a period of time after turning on the "flight mode", it will remain stationary in the air regardless of external forces.

Unless the "flight mode" is turned off, even if Fang Bailu makes physical contact again, it will not change its stationary state.

"If I had known earlier... I should have thrown it from the ground..." Fang Bailu struggled to reach the screen of his phone. "Flight mode... turn it on and fly towards me..."

He couldn't help but focus on his fingertips and the phone, imagining it flying towards him like a weary bird returning to its nest.

call out!

The cell phone passed by his ear with a sound of air tearing, and the airflow lifted Fang Bailu's hair.

flutter!

With a low muffled sound, the front half of the phone disappeared into the bedroom floor.

Fang Bailu scratched the tip of his nose and stared blankly at the phone embedded in the concrete floor:

It was as if it was just a puddle of mud after the rain, rather than a rough, hard concrete floor.

……

"Hahahahahahahaha..."

Fang Bailu let out a silly laugh, as if he was frightened by the risk of being beheaded just now.

He quickly jumped to the phone that was stuck in the ground and sat down cross-legged.

"Slow down...slow down...slow down..."

Fang Bailu kept mumbling to himself, as if he had suddenly gone crazy.

With repeated whispers, the phone slowly but surely struggled out of the concrete and floated unsteadily towards him.

"……stop!"

The phone stopped in the air, with the back facing Fang Bailu's eyes.

A round of light flows over the poem on the back:

"How can I get the Heavenly Sword? Cross the sea and kill the whale..."

The thoughts that had been stirring deep in his mind emerged from the water and surged to the surface of his thoughts.

Although all of this was still shrouded in uncertainty, Fang Bailu understood one thing:

This is not a cell phone.

"This is a fucking flying sword."

Fang Bailu murmured.

Chapter 49: Cutting Jade Like Cutting Mud (Part )

The floors of Fang’s Hardware Store, both on the first floor and in the bedrooms, are paved with cement.

It's not the smooth and even "self-leveling" cement floor that was popular in the old world; instead, the decoration is considered completed at the rough house stage - without even using cement slurry to smooth it.

This also made Fang Bailu's bedroom floor bumpy, and she might trip if she didn't look carefully when walking.

It’s not that he loves the simple and frugal living environment, but he spends all his spare money on purchasing goods and setting up various defense mechanisms.

As for holographic feng shui, which is expensive and more about form than practicality, Fang Bailu would avoid it as much as possible.

"It's okay, it's very industrial style." This is one of the statements Fang Bailu often uses to comfort himself.

He glued a layer of wire mesh on the soles of his bedroom slippers - in the humidity of years of heavy rain, it would be easy for mold and moss to grow if hygiene was not done properly.

So every day before going to bed and when getting up early, he would walk around the bedroom in his slippers a few times to scrape away the dirt in the cracks on the floor, which was better than nothing.

From this point of view, Fang Bailu is a rather lazy person in life.

And now, a new hygiene problem appeared before him:

The hole made by the mobile phone on the floor.

Fang Bailu stuck his finger into the square hole on the cement floor that was several centimeters long and one centimeter wide.

It feels smooth, even greasy, and mixed with moist water vapor - it has none of the rough granularity of ordinary cement surfaces, as if it had been polished with a file and then covered with a layer of paint.

"How did this get nailed in there...?"

If Fang Bailu hadn't seen the phone "drilling" into the concrete with his own eyes, he would have thought that the hole was caused by some kind of hot-melt weapon.

At this moment, the mobile phone was flying in front of Fang Bailu, like the yo-yo he played with in his previous life - it would twitch and jump up a dozen centimeters from time to time, and then slowly fall back to its original height.

It was like there was a transparent string hanging at the top of it, occasionally pulling it up.

He was trying to keep the phone on a steady flight path - but it was harder than he thought.

Fang Bailu wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve: the stuffiness, excitement and tension mixed together made him feel sticky.

The heavy rain outside the house, which was like the upside-down ceiling, had died down by half at this moment, and even the sound of the dense raindrops hitting the ground had become much lighter.

He let out a long breath—and the phone stopped moving, hanging still in the air.

Fang Bailu gently slid the tip of his fingernail along its edge, then brought his finger back in front of his eyes to observe:

Intact, no abnormalities.

"Why is there a gap like that?"

Fang Bailu looked at the smooth-edged hole on the floor, puzzled.

Faint bursts of air horn sounds came from far away, the sharp tone was a bit harsh.

He subconsciously covered his ears and continued to think:

If the mobile phone was simply using acceleration and its own mass to create kinetic impact, then there would be a landslide and cement debris splattered everywhere.

At most, cracks will appear around it with it as the center.

But sinking into the ground silently?

He couldn't figure out how such a crack could be caused on the smooth shell of the phone:

"Like squeezing into dough..."

Fang Bailu made the phone spin in front of him like a top: this was the move he became most proficient at after practicing for a while.

The volume of the air horn was getting louder and louder, and it began to mix with equally high-pitched screams and crazy laughter. Even the hands covering the ears could not cover them up.

"People are out and about when the rain turns to moderate rain. Hasn't the funeral procession in front of us finished yet?"

As soon as he changed his mind, the phone stopped spinning.

Once your attention is diverted, the control of your phone will be interrupted.

"Is there a technique like sword control? I see An Ben's 'Orchid Grass' is quite flexible?"

Fang Bailu looked at his phone with interest, and his eagerness to practice was not dampened by the small interruption.

The joy of practicing and seeing the results was like a sharp sword that tore through the layers of darkness in his heart.

"Speaking of which...how did it capture my neural signals?"

Unlike when he refined the "Orchid Grass", Fang Bailu did not use his ID number to register as a sword master; nor did he become a user like Anbennola through the deep integration of spiritual orifice and flying sword.

It seems that as long as Fang Bailu turns on the "flight mode", he can control it directly with his mind.

He slowly rotated the phone in front of him so that he could take in every detail of it:

"I don't know what level of flying sword it is? I don't know the manufacturer either..."

The only "orchid" that Fang Bailu had seen with his own eyes was a toy-grade flying sword, as could be seen from the repeated words "Children's Dream Toy Company" before it was refined.