Cyber ​​Sword Immortal Iron Rain

Compared to guns or weapons, this is his basic means of attack.

"Our company...I...you...hum——"

The security director was speechless for a moment, and then the loudspeaker was turned off by a buzzer.

"There are such enlightened Qigong practitioners who can leave their bodies and use smart guns... I guess they don't understand what Cang Yangzi's purpose is."

Seeing the bad temper of the security chief, Fang Bailu reluctantly came to a conclusion: the first shot fired by the sniper at him might be a rubber bullet or a tranquilizer, but the bullet hit the back of his head - the impact alone would cause permanent damage to Fang Bailu's nervous system, and Cang Yangzi, who wanted him to show his "beautiful and dazzling" three souls and seven spirits in the data space, would never allow such a "tragedy" to happen. Then the angry security chief simply ordered his men to use live ammunition...

"Tsk, maybe that security chief thinks it's enough that I'm not dead? That shows how important communication is when working together. They don't have any team spirit at all! They're still clamoring for team building."

But somehow, Fang Bailu felt in his heart that this was not the whole picture, and there was some secret hidden beneath the deep water... But at the moment he had no time to think about other things.

Although the opponent's interwoven firepower net could not hurt him at all, and Fang Bailu even attacked him verbally; but this discouraging silence made Fang Bailu more alert - since his position had been exposed, the long-range firepower attack would not work...

Then, it's time to try other more direct means of attack.

What would follow would either be a sudden attack with cold weapons by the swordsman, an attempt to capture him alive at close range, or some large-scale attack that Cang Yangzi could not control.

"It's almost time... Although Qingyun Temple doesn't have much reputation, it is still a company after all, and it must have deployed auxiliary forces - 'Zhao Jizi' should have been dug out. Let's not talk about him, those swordsmen who can find jobs in the company are also very troublesome..."

Fang Bailu stretched his muscles and patted his intact raincoat: The current situation is really very lively, there are three Qigong practitioners involved. The outer sect Taoist Anbennola who is about to arrive is the most powerful weapon in his hand; Qingyun Temple has an unknown number of security forces, an arsenal that has not yet been fully displayed, and Zhaojizi who seems to be unconscious but can easily split gold and stone; plus Cangyangzi who wants Fang Bailu to abandon his body but is unwilling to let him die——

"This fight might be very interesting!"

He took out another tube of adrenaline and looked at it under the red light cast by the word "囍" on the ceiling: he didn't need intravenous injection now, his body was also continuously secreting this hormone...

Fang Bailu's blood rushed to his heart, and even his cheeks felt numb.

In just a dozen days, he gradually began to enjoy the sense of survival and subtle pleasure that battles brought him: this experience of not having to think too much and just living in the present moment of swordplay made Fang Bailu feel unprecedented comfort - living a life where people schemed against him every day was really too hard.

And here, I'm afraid it will turn into a more intense battlefield.

He temporarily threw all the clues he had just obtained, which were as complex as a spider web, into the trash can in his mind:

"Fuck, this is exciting."

Fang Bailu muttered to himself, whispering a sound that only he could hear.

Chapter 102: Fight (Part )

The holographic image of Cang Yangzi stopped talking and just bowed. The huge horns moved up and down, and I wonder what they were controlling?

Silence spread between the two. Both sides knew that words were powerless at this moment, and they could only use their fists to implement their views:

"I'll ask you other questions later. You can capture my location in real time..."

Fang Bailu stomped his rubber-soled rain boots twice. The rainwater pouring in through the gaps had soaked his bare feet without socks, making a teeth-grinding "smacking" sound.

He frowned and tried his best to put the sticky feeling of his feet behind him:

"But your lackeys may not be able to keep up with me."

Fang Bailu lightly raised his toes and leaned back: he was standing on the edge of the handshake building, and then fell headfirst into the wind and rain in mid-air.

This row of handshake buildings is not very high, only eight or nine stories high and about thirty meters above the ground - of course, this is compared with the skyscrapers in the commercial district; if a mortal body were to "fall" to the ground at this speed, I'm afraid that the body would be broken into several pieces.

Fang Bailu spun around in the strong wind, and the violent airflow rushed into his raincoat from the hem, filling up the sleeves. He put his feet together, pressed them tightly together, and bent his knees slightly.

Benedict!

The rubber rain boots had a hard and stable foothold: the mobile phone followed him like a shadow and hovered steadily under Fang Bailu's feet.

"Luckily this isn't a real phone... otherwise I wouldn't be willing to step on it with these lousy shoes."

He shook twice to steady himself - the phone was too small and he could only hold it with his feet - and rubbed his knees which were a little sore from the impact; then he pushed his legs hard and jumped into the window of another residential building, which led directly to the corridor.

Fang Bailu did not intend to continue to use the force to return to the ground in the alley.

Whether moving on the rooftops of the handshake buildings or quickly landing in the alleys, neither is a good choice. The simple terrain is not conducive to Fang Bailu's "wandering":

"Let's start playing hide and seek."

……

Fang Bailu wanted to bounce back and forth in the narrow alley between the two handshake buildings: this kind of mobile and flexible way of moving made Fang Bailu fascinated. Unfortunately, in his attempt not long after the meridians were implanted, this gorgeous flying over the eaves and walls ended with him almost splitting his legs and almost pulling his hamstrings.

Although the implanted Three Yang Meridians of the Foot gave his legs strength and agility, the unmodified nervous system made Fang Bailu's reactions slow and his limbs uncoordinated, making it impossible for him to complete many difficult movements.

"Hey, the software can't keep up with the hardware..."

Fang Bailu flew through the corridors of the residential building - now his position was still exposed to the sight of Qingyun Temple through Cangyangzi, and he had to keep moving to avoid being surrounded by Qingyun Temple.

He didn't want to use his head to test how hard the fists of the swordsmen hired by Qingyun Temple were - now that "cell phone" was no longer a secret, it would be difficult for Fang Bailu, with his fragile body, to deal with the swordsmen like he strangled the security guards in the guard room of the subway station.

Unlike the big guys at the top of the food chain who like to train famous swordsmen as guest officials, small companies often outsource these pioneering work in order to reduce operating costs. After all, the security forces alone are enough to meet most of the use of force scenarios.

"The budget allocated by the higher authorities is not enough", "Funds are burning every minute and every second", "The amount of money that can be reimbursed is so little, you can just hire some experts from the world"... Fang Bailu, who works as a human resources agent when he has nothing to do, has heard a lot of complaints from clients like this. There is not much difference between middle-level cadres and grassroots employees, and both can be easily replaced or reduced to their original state.

“I wonder if I’ll run into any familiar faces?”

Fang Bailu would quietly keep in mind the ruthless characters who made a living on the edge of a knife in A Luo Street, as long as they were a little famous: as an intermediary, he had to know both himself and his opponent. He often acted as an agent to help the swordsmen, and selecting talents and employing them was a science.

His stomach was rumbling and convulsing—he didn't have a Dantian furnace implanted, and the three yang meridians of the foot that were being used continuously were demanding energy in this way. Fang Bailu held the exposed steel pipe on the outside of the wall with one hand, and used the momentum to swing to the next residential building: at this time, any effort he could save was a plus.

"Damn it, I'm so hungry! I've used too many artificial meridians and my stomach is empty. Will I get stomach cancer if this continues?"

Fang Bailu landed again, his feet aching from blisters from the hard-soled rubber shoes: Since the residents of A Luo Street generally eat nutrient solution as their staple food, they are a high-risk group for various stomach diseases. Therefore, artificial stomachs for transplantation are always in short supply, and the prices are driven up. Now there is no barefoot doctor, Old Liutou... Thinking of the ridiculously high fees charged by the chain unmanned clinic, Fang Bailu was so angry that the pit under his sternum hurt even more.

The enemy knew Fang Bailu's location, but he knew nothing about their distribution. He didn't like this kind of encounter, let alone this kind of pursuit with unequal information - if he wanted to talk about convenience, it would be more comfortable to stay in Fang's Hardware Store, which he had run for a long time and almost turned into a ghost castle, and wait for the enemy.

"Let's move around the store first and see if we can eliminate a few fire points along the way."

Fang Bailu's feet swung quickly, and his hands were not idle either. He rummaged through his clothes, trying to find any foreign objects he had missed: Although he didn't know how Cang Yangzi had locked onto him, the most likely possibility was that something on his body was connected to the network, and Cang Yangzi had tracked and captured it...

boom!

The concrete wall suddenly exploded, and two strange weapons with blue electric fire jumped out of the unit one after another and forked into the corridor: If Fang Bailu continued to move forward, this U-shaped riot fork would lock his neck.

"Hold!"

Fang Bailu kicked with his right leg, trying to stop his momentum.

Ding!

It was a crisp sound like a triangle hitting a metal triangle. But Fang Bailu felt like he was hit on the head with a club. A strong urge to vomit and a sense of imbalance instantly filled his body. The sole of his foot, which had just stepped hard, softened instantly and flew forward, about to fall towards another anti-riot fork that could instantly knock people out.

It was as if everything had been calculated, and Fang Bailu seemed unable to escape the pincer attack.

He gritted his teeth and folded his palms on his ribs - the phone was turned horizontally and the screen was used to "slap" Fang Bailu's palm!

Fang Bailu was knocked away by the phone and barely dodged the powered riot fork that seemed to be waiting to hit him.

He rolled down a few steps due to inertia and shook his hands which were hurt by the collision of the phone.

"Damn it, toughen up."

Several figures stepped out of the dust of the broken wall, and the other white deer was ready for battle. They were tightly together, like conjoined twins with three heads and six arms:

The people in front of him were not swordsmen, but three security guards. One of them held a short fork in his right hand and placed a blast shield on the ground with his left hand. The reserved aiming position on the top of the blast shield firmly held a fully automatic rifle. Another security guard aimed the black muzzle of the gun that could not be fired at Fang Bailu. The last security guard held a long fork about the height of a person, and there was a pocket-sized metal bud on his shoulder that kept spinning - it was this that disturbed Fang Bailu's balance just now.

"Good boy, this is a formation!"

Sharing the vision between the array eyes, automatically calculating the tactical routes and execution methods for joint attacks, and even adjusting the appropriate psychological state and hormone secretion - a high-quality enterprise version of the array can provide all of these.

I wonder how many such tactical teams Qingyun Temple has deployed near Fang’s Hardware Store?

The metal bud was still trembling, and Fang Bailu felt his stomach churning.

"vomit!"

He spat out the acid water, which contained the undigested edible-grade silica gel that he had swallowed before. The three security guards maintained a somewhat strange posture and approached Fang Bailu step by step, whose sense of balance was disturbed and even difficult to stand up.

Although he was a little embarrassed, Fang Bailu's heart, which had been beating violently due to the shock, calmed down:

"Fortunately, fortunately, this formation probably runs a universal configuration file... If it were an ordinary swordsman, he would be doomed."

A stun anti-riot fork, a carbon foam shield, an inner ear balance disruptor, and a suppressive firepower unit—this is the usual configuration for a three-person team that has not undergone much modification when fighting against a swordsman.

Coupled with the coordinated combat of the formation, this is enough to destroy the combat capabilities of many swordsmen who lack experience in dealing with it.

Chapter 103: Fight (Part )

The corridor windows cast pink, purple, and red neon lights. They were cast on the pure black uniforms of the security guards, separating them from the inky darkness. Fang Bailu couldn't see the faces of the security guards under their helmets - he wiped the bile from the corners of his mouth and felt that the figures in front of him were some kind of alienated three-headed monster dogs.

Then, the jumping light and shadow were also torn apart.

hiss--

With a sharp whistle like the sound of wind, the head of the armed security guard in the middle flew high up, and was pushed to the top of the corridor by the fountain of blood, making a "dong" sound. The mobile phone maintained its momentum and passed through the blood column, diagonally chiseling into the wall upwards.

"Missed."

Fang Bailu sighed secretly: his original plan was to blow off the heads of three people in one go. But the dizziness lingering in his mind caused the sword to deviate from the target this time; he only eliminated the most useless threat - as the holder of the flying sword, his body was still too fragile.

The remaining two guards continued to move forward. They still held the headless body tightly in the middle, as if their bodies were connected together. Zizi, zizi! Several small streams of blood shot out from the broken neck, but the other guards seemed unaware and walked slowly towards Fang Bailu. The dead body's feet dragged on the ground, leaving two long red marks.

"Your companion died, but you are not shocked at all..."

People are also tools and need proper maintenance. If not properly handled, the chance of scrapping will increase - mental illness is also one of the important reasons for scrapping. There are several commonly used prevention methods: adjust the hormone secretion of security guards, so that they feel extremely happy because of dopamine when they pull the trigger and witness the target's flesh and blood being torn; clear the memory of killing, so that they can sleep more peacefully at night, as if they have never been stained with blood; replace the appearance of the enemy in their eyes with monsters and beasts, giving the fighters a game-like feeling...

But judging from the performance of these people, Qingyun Temple chose a method that is inefficient but less costly: these security guards have completely entrusted the control of their bodies to the formation, and the death of their companions naturally cannot affect the mentality of the survivors.

The explosion-proof fork that was flashing and coiling with electric sparks was getting closer and closer to Fang Bailu.

Fang Bailu covered both sides of his head with his hands and closed his eyes to fight against the dizziness that seemed like the world was upside down. He took a deep breath and held it firmly in his lungs:

The phone awkwardly passed through the wall, leaving behind a trail of pale white wall dust. It followed Fang Bailu's idea, spinning and dancing frantically, drawing one horizontal and vertical straight line after another. Fang Bailu recalled the approximate distance between himself and the security guards, letting the phone stir in front of him like outlining a chessboard: according to the mechanical movement of the security guards, it would naturally crash into this sharp storm -

Fang Bailu felt warm rain falling on his face, which was both salty and fishy; the smell of excrement also hit his nostrils.

But the dizziness was gone.

He opened his eyes, his gaze avoiding the pieces of meat scattered on the ground.

Fang Bailu held onto the wall that was sticky due to the blood and stood up unsteadily: the feeling of having his sense of balance completely shattered and the world spinning around him was really uncomfortable.

"See if they have anything useful."

Although there may be more security teams surrounding them, Fang Bailu, who is hungry and feels anxious, still needs to find supplies and props.

He leaned over and held up the first head he had cut off. Fang Bailu lifted the translucent helmet visor and looked at it in the neon light outside the window: it was a face that was very loose, with skin hanging like cloth and covered with brown spots. A few tufts of dry white hair stuck out from the gap in the helmet and rested on the talisman on the forehead that flashed a crystal red light and had the word "offline".

Fang Bailu looked into the pair of old, cloudy, and dull eyes: these security guards were all elderly men and women.

"So they are all 'corpse soldiers'..."

They are not real "corpses", but rather elderly people in their 80s.

The elderly are cheap, the price is low, and the human resources department does not feel bad about their consumption, so they are very suitable as filling materials for the formation. The security equipment is equipped with cheap exoskeletons, which can maintain the mobility of those weak bodies - and with the formation and smart guns, it does not require a very strong human body to be able to produce a fatal threat.

Fang Bailu, who has consumed a lot of physical strength, is an example.

"Corpse soldiers" is just a mocking description: these people in their twilight years are no different from corpses, just a tiny touch in the company's will. Death is also a kind of relief - the security equipment of "corpse soldiers" is quite crude, and those elderly people with calcium loss and osteoporosis often break bones and tendons due to the manipulation of exoskeletons; not to mention other injuries. Companies with better treatment and benefits will also provide painkillers and electronic drugs, but there are very few such "conscientious" companies. In terms of cost reduction and resource reuse, AI-controlled unmanned troops are far inferior to corpse soldiers.

The equipment is made of iron, but the personnel within it are like flowing water... As long as people still have bioelectricity and can send and receive nerve signals, they can be used.

Fang Bailu closed his mouth and exhaled a long breath through his nostrils. He put the old, wrinkled head on the ground as gently as possible:

Sometimes, it’s the last stop in the career of a mediocre employee; in other cases, it’s an elderly borrower who can’t repay his debts and has taken over the rifle from the last debtor... In either case, they’ve long been squeezed out of any remaining “convenient” value.

Compared with humans, this set of equipment is the real "essence" of security.

Fang Bailu was a little upset, and a breath of hot air was stuck in his throat, difficult to exhale. These strange old people reminded him of the former owner who had already fallen asleep - unfortunately, not everyone has the opportunity to lie in a rocking chair and die peacefully.

He knew in his heart that if the security equipment was not loaded with elderly people and moved slowly, he would have been captured by now.

Fang Bailu patted his cheeks, ignoring the sticky blood on his hands: this kind of thing happens everywhere all the time, and he quickly dispelled the boredom in his heart. Ugliness, perversion and horror, Fang Bailu was tired of seeing these things.

"You bastard...are you still attacking me psychologically?"

A faint feeling of guilt passed through my heart, and then turned into hatred and anger towards the security chief.

He put aside his distracting thoughts and thought carefully, and soon discovered a useful piece of information: Qingyun Temple's resources were not that sufficient. Of course, this was relative to other companies. For Fang's Hardware Store, any company that was registered was a behemoth that could only be looked up to. It had to rely on the energy of Qigong practitioners to compete with it to the end, or even to have the qualifications to compromise with each other.

Facing an enemy like himself who possessed flying swords, the main force he sent out was just inefficient corpse soldiers... Even though he had just been tortured hard, Fang Bailu still understood that apart from their low cost, the functions of "corpse soldiers" were very limited in all other aspects; and although the combined attack formation they carried was precisely calculated, it was also monotonous and dull, and could not even be adapted.

But even so...

Fang Bailu gently pressed the side of his ribs that had been hit by the "mobile phone" in an attempt to forcibly change the trajectory of movement: although there was no fracture, he still felt waves of pain.