Countless people were directly hit by the blazing iron fist, and instantly gasified, leaving not even a single bit of ashes behind.
Some people were engulfed by the air wave, and indirectly turned into a part of the air wave, turning the billowing air wave into a wriggling and expanding beast, constantly expanding outward.
Even the earth was blown away by the shower of meteors and fire, revealing cracks that reached the center of the earth, and what surged in the deepest part of the cracks was not the devil fire of hell, but the turbulent data flow like a whirlpool.
The camouflage of this world is peeling off inch by inch, revealing the essence of virtuality.
The torrent of data is like a volcanic eruption, spurting out of the endless abyss, and rushing towards people with teeth and claws.
All the people touched by the torrent of data were all fragmented, turning into countless crystal clear blue numbers, and then fell apart and completely annihilated.
If it is said that being smashed to death, burned to death and shredded by the meteor fire rain falling from the sky, it can still be understood by the poor virtual people.
Then, being torn off the camouflage, exposing the poor nature of the data, and then all the data is cleared, deleted, and returned to the original state—this is the ultimate horror that virtual humans cannot understand.
Someone finally reacted and let out a desperate cry.
Seeing the Creator exert such a destructive power, some mechanical and steam believers collapsed and repented.
They knelt on the ground weeping bitterly, and worshiped the boxing champion, not to spare their lives, but to beg the forgiveness of the true God, to listen to their dying confession, and to purify their sinful souls.
Some loyal believers in the Fist Temple also had mental breakdowns. They watched the indiscriminate massacre with dumbstruck eyes, and they didn't understand what happened. How about throwing these faithful lambs into hell with the heathen
"Fist God, I praise you, I surrender to you, and I am your most loyal servant!"
Some Iron Fist soldiers went crazy and shouted at the boxing champion.
Then he was smashed to pieces by a meteor iron fist.
"Supreme, supreme, good and benevolent Creator, I am your lamb, I am your servant, I am the projection of your will, I am your most insignificant creature, your will must make sense, if you want to purify This world, this world will be finally redeemed."
There were also some priests of the Boxing Temple who suddenly understood the intention of the Boxing King. They stopped resisting and sat cross-legged in a pool of blood with their eyes downcast, murmuring, waiting, and soon the destruction came.
"Come on! False God!"
Naturally, the most die-hard mechanical and steam cultists were also indispensable. Facing the meteor fire rain covering the sky, they never frowned halfway.
Under the majestic momentum of boxing champions, they still gritted their teeth and straightened their waists, waving steam guns and roaring towards the sky, "Although you destroy us, you can never defeat us and gain our surrender, come on, let us fight to the death! "
They burned the boiler red, stirred up the most powerful steam, and shot the last projectile into the sky, and then, greeted with a hundred times the meteor fire rain, they died laughing loudly under the bombardment of flames and iron fists.
Soon, even the sky cracked in pieces like the bottom of a burnt pot.
Cracks criss-crossed, and pieces of the sky dome peeled off, revealing the mysterious and complicated data outside the sky.
The large group of data is like a living thing with life, beating crazily, but it keeps returning to zero.
Every string of data is reset to zero, and the whole world seems to become monotonous and dull. From the original colorful and lifelike 64-bit true color, it gradually drops to 32-bit true color, 16-bit true color, 512 colors, and 256 colors. .
The world loses its color.
After the special effects are turned off, the virtual people who have not been cleared are surprised to find that their hands and feet are no longer delicate, but rough jagged.
They opened their mouths wide, wanting to shout, cry, pray, beg for mercy, roar, and say the last word to their loved one before dying.
But the boxing champion is cutting off the voice and sound effect support of this virtual world, and the "hissing" sound from the throat of the virtual people can't express their deep and real emotions.
Gus couldn't speak either.
His legs were broken by a meteor fist, and his entire lower body was bloody. He could only crawl towards Grey with shocking bloodstains.
"elder sister-"
He wanted to shout, but only heard his own hoarse crying.
And Gray, who was crushed by the wreckage of the steam cannon, couldn't respond to his crying, but just widened his dazed eyes and smiled at his brother for the last time.
"nothing."
The boy seemed to hear his sister comforting him, "It's okay, we'll see Mom and Dad soon."
"..."
Gus gritted his teeth, endured the severe pain, and leaped vigorously, finally grabbed his sister's hand.
But he couldn't catch half of the passing temperature.
The young man was speechless, shed blood and tears, and stared blankly at the sky.
And Zhuo stands above the sky, controls life and death, manipulates fate, and can create and destroy all gods.
"It shouldn't be like this."
Gus looked at the collapsing world and thought obsessively, "The truth shouldn't be like this, the world shouldn't be like this, our fate shouldn't be like this!"
He has never been the same as this moment, eager to change his destiny, save his own kind, and even kill his creator.
Gritting his teeth, the boy mustered up his last courage and strength, grabbed the wreckage of the steam cannon, endured the severe pain, and stood up.
The shattered legs poked out the broken bones and stuck in the pool of blood, and there was a severe pain that was worse than death.
But the severe pain stimulated the young man's soul to explode layer by layer. He waved his immature fists, imitating the fanatical appearance of the Steam Cultists, and roared crazily into the sky.
"Come on, boxing champion, you can destroy me as much as you want, but you can never defeat me. Come on, let's fight to the death!"
Gus quickly got his wish.
He was blown away by the air wave again, and fell to the ground like a pile of garbage. His bones burst and his internal organs shattered.
Teenagers can feel life passing by.
There are probably only thirty or fifty seconds left before all the data is cleared.
But he was laughing.
At least, at the end of fate, for 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 dying boy heard an urgent cry in a trance.
"Lu Qingchen?"
The eyes that were gradually closing were suddenly rounded. Gus turned his head and saw the torn apart demon, who was suppressed by the boxing champion not far away, wriggling towards him like a dead but not stiff bug.
"Gus, he is too powerful, you can't beat him, I can't beat him, there is only one way left, there is still hope!"
Lu Qingchen was also laughing, very happy and decisive, with madness written all over his ugly face.
The demon stretched out his bloody arm, and spewed out strands of the brightest arcs from the deepest part of his soul, spreading towards the young man.
"Come on, this is my last power, the entire inheritance of Lightning's life, open your heart, take it, become a new generation of Lightning King, and then create miracles, boy!"