Countless people were directly hit by the burning fists and vaporized instantly. Not even their ashes were left.
Some people were swallowed by the airwaves and indirectly turned into a part of the airwaves, turning the airwaves into wriggling and expanding behemoths that kept expanding outward.
Even the ground was blown apart by the meteor shower, revealing cracks that reached all the way to the center of the planet. What was surging in the deepest part of the cracks was not hellfire but data streams that were as turbulent as a vortex.
The disguise of this world was peeling off inch by inch, revealing the essence of the virtual world.
The torrent of data burst out from the bottomless abyss like a volcanic eruption and lunged at people ferociously.
Anyone who was touched by the torrent of data was shattered into countless translucent blue numbers. Then, they fell apart and were completely obliterated.
If they were smashed to death, burned to death, and torn apart by the meteor shower falling from the sky, the pitiful virtual people could still understand it.
Then, their disguise was torn off, their pitiful essence of data was exposed, and all the data was cleared, deleted, and returned to the most basic state. This was the ultimate horror that the virtual people could not understand no matter what.
Finally, someone realized what was going on and screamed in desperation.
Seeing the Creator perform such a destructive power, some of the believers of the machines and steam had a mental breakdown and repented.
They knelt on the ground in tears and worshiped A Boxing Champion, not for mercy but for the forgiveness of the True God. They hoped that the True God would listen to their repentance before death and purify their sinful souls.
Some of the loyal believers of the Fist God Temple also had a mental breakdown. They watched the indiscriminate massacre in shock and did not understand what was going on. The arrival of the True God was the most sacred and glorious moment, but why did the True God not distinguish between friend and foe but send them, the loyal lambs, to hell together with the heretics?
"Fist God, I praise you. I surrender to you. I am your most loyal servant!"
Some of the Iron Fist Army went crazy and shouted at A Boxing Champion.
Then, they were smashed into pieces by a meteor iron fist.
"Almighty, benevolent, and benevolent creator, I am your lamb, I am your servant, I am your projection of your will, I am your most insignificant creation. Your will must be justified. If you want to purify this world, this world will definitely receive the ultimate redemption."
Some priests of the Temple of Fist suddenly understood A Boxing Champion's intention. They stopped resisting and sat cross-legged in the pool of blood. They lowered their eyes, murmured and waited. Soon, they were waiting for destruction.
"Come on! False gods! "
Naturally, there were also the most stubborn believers of machines and steam. They did not even frown in the face of the meteor shower that filled the sky.
Under A Boxing Champion's majestic aura, they still gritted their teeth and straightened their backs. They waved their steam guns and roared at the sky, "You can destroy us, but don't even think about defeating us and gaining our allegiance. Come, let us fight to the death!"
They burned the boiler until it was bright red, stirring up the most powerful steam, and shot the last pellets into the sky. Then, they welcomed a meteor shower that was a hundred times more in number. Under the bombardment of flames and iron fists, they died laughing loudly.
Soon, even the sky began to crack like the bottom of a burnt pot.
The cracks crisscrossed, and the dome of the sky peeled off, revealing the mysterious and complicated data beyond the sky.
The large cluster of data was like a living thing. It jumped crazily, but it kept returning to zero.
Every time a string of data returned to zero, the whole world seemed to become monotonous and dull. From the original brilliant and vivid 64-bit True Color, it gradually fell to 32-bit True Color, 16-bit True Color, 512 colors, and 256 colors.
The world lost its color.
After the special effects were turned off, the virtual people who had not returned to zero were shocked to find that their hands and feet were no longer delicate. Instead, they had rough sawteeth.
They opened their mouths wide, wanting to scream, wanting to cry, wanting to pray, wanting to beg for mercy, wanting to roar, wanting to say one last thing to their loved ones before they died.
But A Boxing Champion was cutting off the voice and sound support of this virtual world. The virtual people's throats made a hissing sound, unable to express their deep and true emotions.
Gus was also speechless.
His legs were smashed by a meteor iron fist. His entire lower body was a bloody mess. He could only drag a shocking trail of blood and crawl toward Grey.
"Sister —"
He wanted to shout, but he could only hear his own hoarse cries.
And Grey, who was crushed by the remains of the steam gun, could not respond to his cries. She just widened her dazed eyes and bloomed a final smile at her brother.
"It's okay."
The young man seemed to hear his sister comforting him. "It's okay. We will be able to see Mom and Dad soon."
"…"
Gus gritted his teeth, endured the severe pain, and jumped with all his might. He finally grabbed his sister's hand.
But he could not catch any of the passing temperature.
The young man was speechless. He shed tears of blood and stared blankly at the sky.
And the gods who stood above the sky, who controlled life and death, who controlled fate, and who could create and destroy everything.
"It shouldn't be like this."
Gus looked at the collapsing world and thought in a daze, "It shouldn't be like this. The world shouldn't be like this. Our fate shouldn't be like this!"
He had never been so eager to change his fate, save his own kind, and even kill his own creator.
Gritting his teeth, the young man summoned the last of his courage and strength. He clung to the remains of the steam gun, endured the severe pain, and stood up.
Broken bones poked out of his shattered legs and stuck in a pool of blood. He felt a pain worse than death.
But this severe pain stimulated the young man's soul. He waved his young fists, imitated the fanatical appearance of the steam gun believers, and roared crazily toward the sky.
"Come on, A Boxing Champion. You can destroy me, but you can never defeat me. Come on, let us fight to the death!"
Gus soon got what he wanted.
He was blown away again by the airwave and fell to the ground like a piece of garbage. His bones burst, and his internal organs were shattered.
The young man could feel his life slipping away.
There were probably only thirty to fifty seconds left before all his data would be reset to zero.
But he was smiling.
At least, at the end of his fate, there were thirty to fifty seconds when he broke free from the shackles and manipulation of his creator, lived according to his own will, and died as a human.
That was enough, wasn't it?
"Gus! Gus! "
Suddenly, the dying young man vaguely heard an urgent shout.
"Lu Qingchen?"
Gus' eyes, which were gradually closing, suddenly widened. He turned his head and saw that the torn demon was suppressed not far away by A Boxing Champion. It was wriggling toward him like a little worm that was dead but not dead.
"Gus, he's too strong. You can't beat him. I can't beat him either. There's only one way left. There's still hope!"
Lu Qingchen was also laughing. His laughter was extremely joyful and resolute. Madness was written all over his ugly face.
The demon stretched out his bloody arm. The most dazzling electric arcs spurted out from the deepest part of his soul and spread toward the young man.
"Come on. This is my last strength, all the inheritance of the life of lightning. Open your heart and accept it. Become the new King of Lightning. Then, go and create miracles, young man!"
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