Forty Millenniums of Cultivation

Countless people were directly hit by the iron boxing that burned the bear, and the instant vaporization left no star and a half behind.

Others were devoured by the air waves and indirectly became part of the air waves, making the rolling air waves into giant beasts with peristaltic expansion, expanding constantly outward.

Even the earth was blown away by meteor fire, revealing a fracture straight to the heart of the earth, and the deepest of the fractures was not Hellfire, but a swirling stream of data.

The disguise of the world is peeling off inches by inches, revealing the essence of virtuality.

Data floods erupt like volcanoes, lashing out of endless abyss, clawing their teeth at people.

All those touched by the data flood were fragmented into countless crystal clear blue numbers, then disintegrated and completely extinguished.

If killed, burned and torn by a meteor rain from the sky, it can also be understood by poor virtuals.

So, being pulled out of disguise, exposing the very nature of the poor data, then all the data is erased, deleted, back to the initial state —— which virtual people can't understand, ultimately horror.

Someone finally reacted and shouted despair.

Seeing the great power of the Creator to destroy the heavens and the earth, some of the mechanics and steamers broke down and repented.

They kneel on their knees in tears and pray to the champions, not for their lives, but for the forgiveness of the True God, to hear their dying confessions and to purify their sinful souls.

The faithful followers of some boxing temples are similarly devastated. They stare at the indiscriminate massacre and do not understand what is happening - the coming of the True God is the most sacred time of glory, but why does the True God, who knows no enemies, want to throw them, the faithful lambs, into hell with pagans?

“Fist God, I praise you, I bow to you, I am your most faithful servant! ”

Some of the Iron Fist Army went mad and shouted at the champion.

He was then smashed to pieces by a meteor iron fist.

“O Supreme, Most Merciful Creator, I am thy Lamb, I am thy servant, I am the projection of thy will, I am thy least creation, thy will, surely there is reason, and if thou purify the world, it shall be the ultimate salvation. ”

There are also some temple priests who suddenly understand the intentions of the champion, who no longer resist, sit on their knees in blood, eyes droopy, read words, wait, and soon wait for the coming of destruction.

“Come on! False god!”

Naturally, there is no shortage of the hardest mechanics and steamers, who have never frowned half the time in the face of a meteor shower covered in the sky.

They still bite their teeth straight, waving their steam guns into the sky and yelling, “Though you destroy us, you will not defeat us, get our subjugation, come on, let us fight to the death! ”

They burned the boiler red, shook up the strongest steam, shot the last bullet into the sky, and then came a hundred times as many meteor showers, haha laughing dead in the flames and iron fist bombing.

Soon, even the sky cracked like a burning pan.

Cracks intersect vertically and horizontally, and heavenly tablets peel off, revealing complex data outside the sky.

The big data is like living creatures, beating wildly, but it keeps returning to zero.

Each string of data returns to zero, and the entire heaven and earth becomes a bit more monotonous and stubborn. From the original brilliant colors, it gradually drops to 32 true colors, 16 true colors, 512 colors, 256 colors.

The world has lost its color.

After the special effects closed, virtual people who had not yet been cleared were surprised to discover that their hands and feet were no longer delicate and that rough serrations had appeared.

They open their mouths, they want to shout, they want to cry, they want to pray, they want to beg for forgiveness, they want to yell, they want to say one last word to their beloved before they die.

But the champion is cutting off the voice and sound support of this virtual world, and the voice of "hissing” in a virtual man's throat cannot express their deep and true emotions.

Gus can't speak either.

He was broken in the legs by a shooting iron fist, and his entire lower body was blurred and could only drag a striking blood trail toward Gray.

“Sister...”

He tried to scream, but only heard himself crying dull.

And Gray, crushed by the wreckage of the steam cannon, could not respond to his crying, but only widened his faint eyes and gave his brother a final smile.

“It's all right. ”

The teenager heard his sister comforting him, “It's okay, we'll see Mom and Dad soon. ”

“ …… ”

Gus bit his teeth, endured severe pain, and finally grabbed my sister's hand.

But they can't catch the half-flowing temperatures.

The teenager was silent, weeping blood, and staring at the sky.

And standing above the dome, in charge of life and death, manipulating destiny, creating and destroying all gods.

“It shouldn't be like this. ”

Gus looked at the crumbling world and thought, “That's not how it works, that's not how it works, that's not how our destiny works! ”

Never before has he been as eager to change his destiny, save his kind, or even kill his own creator.

Tighten his teeth, the teenager assembled his final courage and strength, picked up the remains of a steam cannon, endured severe pain and stood up.

The crushed legs poke out the broken bone and stick it in the bloodstream, causing more pain than death.

But instead, it stimulated the teenager's soul layer to explode, waving his naive fists, learning the look of the steamers' fanaticism, and shouting wildly into the sky.

“Come on, boxer, you can destroy me as much as you can, but you will never defeat me. Come on, let's die! ”

Gus soon got what he wanted.

Once again, he was blown away by the air, falling to the ground like a piece of garbage, his surrounding skeleton bursting and his five dirty hearts crushed.

Juveniles can feel the passing of life.

I'm afraid there's only 30 or 50 seconds left before all the data is cleared.

But he was laughing.

At least, at the end of his destiny, for so many thirty-five seconds, he escaped the bondage and manipulation of the Creator, lived by his will, and died as a human being.

That's enough, huh?

“Gus! Gus!”

All of a sudden, the young man at the time of his retention heard a scream in his trance.

“Lu Qingdu? ”

The closing eyes suddenly stared round, Gus turned his head, and when he saw the demon of division, he was suppressed not far away by the champion, like a dead, unfettered worm, and wriggled towards him.

“Gus, he's too good. You can't beat him. I can't beat him. There's only one way, there's hope! ”

Lu Qingdu was also laughing, laughing with great joy, absolutely absolute, his ugly face was full of madness.

The devil protrudes his fleshly blurred arms, spraying a razor-sharpest arc from the deepest depths of his soul, spreading towards the teenager.

“Come on, this is my last power, the whole legacy of lightning life, open your heart, take it, be the next generation of lightning kings, and then do the miracle, boy! ”