At the same time, emerald green vines began to grow from under Wu Ling's feet. These vines with sharp barbs pierced through his protective clothing without much effort and penetrated into the flesh under his toenails.
Compared with the pain of the barb piercing into the flesh, the pain caused by the barb's own neurotoxin is probably ten times deeper.
This is a special toxin that Fireworks has just spent a second designing. It can cause human beings pain that is almost like a mental breakdown, but it will not cause much damage to the body.
For this kind of ant that dares to offend itself, it feels that it is too easy to kill it casually. It should be tortured in pain for three to five years, and then die when it is completely broken.
"Tear!"
But Wu Ling is also a ruthless person. When he realized that some kind of toxin had been injected into his foot, he didn't hesitate at all, and slashed his foot with a backhand.
The flesh of the two toes contaminated by the toxin, as well as the numerous vines around it that were staring at tigers, all flew into the air along with the bright red blood.
Red blood and green juice splashed everywhere under the huge kinetic energy of the sword, even reaching Mira who was hundreds of meters away.
…
"Son of Luck!!"
The ghost immortals belonging to the two camps said four words in unison after Wu Ling's self-defeating knife.
Unlike other paths, those who belong to ghosts and immortals can "see" changes in luck relatively clearly, and they have the most in-depth research on luck.
Through the observation of a large number of samples, ghost immortals have discovered a rather special physique in some people - children of luck. They are very few who can actively or passively consume their own luck before ascending to the immortal rank. To do some people who are basically impossible to operate on weekdays.
For example, if Wu Ling cut himself just now, if he cut half a second slower, or cut a centimeter less, it would be impossible to stop the toxin from his toes and go straight to the heart along the blood circulation.
"He is not an ordinary child of destiny, but a 'child of destiny' tied to the federal destiny..."
"How can 'Destiny Child' be a mortal?"
"Why did he show up at this time?"
"I don't know either… "
…
The two ghosts and immortals frantically exchanged information. In their eyes, Wu Ling's just-right strike just now could only be achieved by burning the luck of the Federation behind him.
With just that bit of luck on his body, how could He De guard against this belonging to the real immortal, and he even made a sneak attack without any shame.
"The son of luck, the pawn of luck." Bai Mo, who was hiding somewhere and watching quietly, said to a projection clone of Yun Jie next to him.
"You mean... the huge luck of the Federation has given birth to its own consciousness?"
"..."
Bai Mo didn't answer.
Of course, the fact is that he can't say more, because Bai Mo has already seen that this young man named Wu Ling is one of the sons cast by Wuling in the federal civilization, and he is also a tentative son. A moment of wind and cloud will complete his historical mission.
The real future cannot be predicted, but the most likely result can be deduced through the information we have.
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…
Wu Ling is not the kind of high-level monk who can regenerate his limbs at will. His two toes that were cut off by himself are really gone if they are gone. Because he lost his balance slightly, he staggered for a moment.
"The resentment of mere waste, you still dare to pester me?" After analyzing it for a few seconds, Yan Huo finally understood the source of this disgusting force.
That is the resentment from mortals.
The class between extraordinary people and ordinary people is highly solidified, or they hate social injustice, or they are dissatisfied with the lack of advancement. Hundreds of millions of ordinary people have accumulated a lot of resentment in the past hundred years.
The power represented by resentment will unconsciously look for people who are willing to make great ambitions and try to really change everything.
This kind of invisible and colorless thing, if it is in the age of soulless mortals, may only be loaded into some fighters against the existing system in the form of luck.
But this is the era of psionic energy, an era in which spiritual power can interfere with the material world, and the power of luck transformed by resentment can even be used directly in battle.
In a sense, this is also a branch of Shinto, but this one is more extreme, because the user is essentially just an agent of the will of all living beings, a tool for completing tasks.
Once the task is completed, the resentment dissipates, and the gathered strength will go with it.
The heaven and the earth have the same power when they are transported, but the heroes are not free when they are transported away.
"It can only be resolved quickly." Wu Ling checked his physical condition a little, and the state was not optimistic.
Even if it prevents the penetration of toxins in the blood, how can the neurotoxins produced by fireworks be easy to deal with? Although they have not reached the point where they can attack automatically, they have wildly spread and self-replicating viruses characteristic.
In just a few seconds, the surrounding air has been occupied by a large amount of neurotoxins. Every millisecond, Wu Ling needs to consume a lot of luck to purify this nameless toxin.
Under the rage, the fireworks no longer mattered to the lives of other people below. The toxin continued to spread outward, and ordinary people would die if they touched it. Even monks, under the attack of the toxin with the power of real immortals, could only survive for a few seconds.
Only a few people with the same level of protection can protect themselves from this indiscriminate attack.
…
Wu Ling did the math, and his body could only last another five minutes at most.
It's not that the power of luck is insufficient, it's just that in order to fight against the real immortal, the power flowing through his body in an instant is too large, as a repeater, he is about to explode.
But before that, he still decided that even if he sacrificed himself, he would give these high-ranking true immortals who don't take ordinary people seriously, an unforgettable lesson!
"The Dharma-ending Era!"
The resentment that had completely condensed into substance exploded at the tip of the Immortal Killing Sword.
It was a group of flames with several colors.
The outermost is white.
The second layer is yellow.
The third layer is orange.
…
There are seven floors in total, and the core part is purple.
In less than a millisecond, the flames of seven colors expanded into a space that enveloped everyone like a big bang.
Even at the edge of the space battlefield, Olga and Huang Wuji, who were fighting fiercely in a space gap, were covered by this strange space.
In this space, everyone can feel that the psionic energy in their body is being leaked crazily, and then melted into the outside world without leaving any trace.
PS: Take the time to touch fish for another chapter, and by the way, PY a "I am the Dean of Monster Academy", the author is also an old friend who has been milked by me for a few books