40,000 Years of Cultivation

Countless people were directly vaporized in the raging iron boxing, without leaving even a bit of ashes.

Some people were swallowed by the air wave, and indirectly turned into a part of the air wave, turning the billowing air wave into a creeping and expanding behemoth, continuously expanding outward.

Even the earth was blasted away by the rain of meteors, exposing cracks that reached the center of the earth, and the deepest part of the cracks was not the **** fire, but the turbulent flow of data.

The disguise of this world is peeling off inch by inch, revealing its virtual essence.

The torrent of data is like a volcanic eruption, shooting out from the endless abyss, rushing towards the people with teeth and claws.

All the people who were touched by the torrent of data were all shattered and turned into countless crystal clear blue numbers, which then fell apart and completely annihilated.

If it is said to be smashed to death, burned to death and torn to pieces by the meteor fire falling from the sky, it can still be understood by poor virtual people.

Then, being disguised, exposed the poor nature of the data, and then all the data is cleared, deleted, and returned to the initial state-this is how the virtual person can't understand it, and it is terrible in the end.

Finally someone reacted and let out a desperate cry.

Seeing the creator's exerting such a devastating force, some mechanical and steam cultists had a mental breakdown and repented.

They knelt on the ground with tears of tears and worshipped the boxing champion, not to spare their lives, but to beg for forgiveness from the true God, to listen to their dying confession, and to purify their sinful souls.

Part of the faithful believers in the Temple of Fist also had a nervous breakdown. They were stunned as they watched the indiscriminate massacre unfolding, and they didn’t understand what had happened—the coming of the true God was certainly the most sacred and glorious time, but why did the true God not discriminate against me but Should they, faithful lambs, be thrown into **** with the heretics?

"Fist God, I praise you, I surrender you, I am your most faithful servant!"

Some iron fist soldiers went crazy and shouted at the champion of boxing.

Then he was smashed to pieces by a meteor iron fist.

"The supreme, supreme and benevolent Creator, I am your lamb, I am your slave, I am the projection of your will, I am your most insignificant creature, your will must be justified, if you want to purify This world, this world will surely get the ultimate salvation."

Some priests of the Boxing Temple suddenly understood the intentions of the boxing king. They stopped resisting, sitting cross-legged in a pool of blood, with their eyes drooping, chanting, waiting, and soon waited for the destruction to come.

"Come on! A false god!"

Naturally, the hardest machinery and steam cultists are also indispensable, and they never frowned in the face of the meteor shower that covered the sky.

Under the majestic momentum of the boxing champion, they still gritted their teeth and yelled at the sky with their steam guns, "Although you destroy us, you never want to defeat us and get our surrender. Come on, let us fight to the death! "

They burned the boiler to red, spurred the strongest steam, shot the last projectile towards the sky, and then ushered in hundreds of times the number of meteors and fire, amidst the bombardment of flames and iron fists, they laughed and died.

Soon, even the sky cracked like the bottom of a burnt pot.

The cracks criss-crossed, and the sky dome flakes off, revealing the mysterious and complicated data outside the sky.

A large group of data is like a living creature with life, beating frantically, but it is constantly returning to zero.

Each string of data is reset to zero, and the whole world seems to become monotonous and dull, from the original colorful, vivid 64-bit true color, to 32-bit true color, 16-bit true color, 512 color, and 256 color. .

The world has lost its color.

After the special effects were turned off, the virtual people who had not been cleared were surprised to find that their hands and feet were no longer delicate, but rough jagged.

They opened their mouths wide, wanting to scream, want to cry, want to pray, want to ask for mercy, want to roar, want to say the last word to the loved one before dying.

But the boxing champion is cutting off the voice and sound support of this virtual world. The virtual person's throat makes a "hissing" sound, which can't express their deep and real emotions.

Gus was also speechless.

His legs were broken by a meteor fist, and his entire lower body was bloody, and he could only drag the scars of blood, crawling towards Grey.

"sister--"

He wanted to yell, but only heard his hoarse cry.

And Grey, who was crushed by the wreckage of the steam cannon, couldn't respond to his crying, but his eyes widened, and the last smile bloomed at his younger brother.

"nothing."

The boy seemed to hear his sister comforting him, "It's okay, we can see Mom and Dad soon."

"..."

Gus gritted his teeth, resisted the severe pain, leaped hard, and finally grabbed his sister's hand.

Can't catch the half-minute passing temperature.

The young man was speechless, shed blood and tears, staring at the sky blankly.

And the gods who stand on top of the sky, control life and death, manipulate destiny, and can create and destroy everything.

"It shouldn't be like this."

Gus looked at the collapsing world and thought, "The truth shouldn't be like this, the world shouldn't be like this, our destiny shouldn't be like this!"

He has never been the same, eager to change his fate, save his own kind, and even kill his creator.

Gritting his teeth, the young man summoned his last courage and strength, grabbed the remains of the steam cannon, endured the severe pain, and stood up.

The shattered legs pierced the broken bones and plunged into a pool of blood, and there came a sharp pain that life was worse than death.

But the severe pain actually stimulated the young man's soul to explode. He waved his immature fist, learned the fanatical appearance of the steam cultists, and screamed in the sky.

"Come on, boxing champion, you can destroy me as much as you can, but you will never defeat me. Come on, let us fight to the death!"

Gus quickly got what he wanted.

He was blown away again by the air wave, and fell to the ground like a pile of rubbish, his bones burst and his internal organs shattered.

The teenager can feel the passing of life.

Before all the data is cleared, I am afraid there are only thirty or fifty seconds left.

But he was laughing.

At least, at the end of destiny, in such thirty or fifty seconds, he got rid of the shackles and manipulation of the creator, lived according to his own will, and died as a human being.

That's enough, right?

"Gus! Gus!"

Suddenly, the young man who was still dying heard an urgent cry in a daze.

"Lu Qingchen?"

The gradually closing eyes suddenly rounded, Gus turned his head and saw the torn apart demon, he was suppressed by the boxing king not far away, like a dead but not stiff little bug, wriggling towards him.

"Gus, he is too powerful, you can't beat him, I can't beat him, there is only one way, there is hope!"

Lu Qingchen was also laughing, laughing happily and decisively, his ugly face was full of madness.

The devil stretched out his **** arms, and from the deepest part of his soul spewed out the brightest arcs, spreading towards the young man.

"Come on, this is my last strength, all the inheritance of lightning life, open your heart, take it, and become the new generation of lightning king, and then go and create miracles, boy!"