Hualian Daoren and Pangu are brother and sister, and then they want to be Pangu's mother? Do you still want to include Pangu in the harem? Tsk tsk, even more messy than Greek mythology.

- I use mocking mental activity to paralyze the author, the protagonist, look at you. I said to the protagonist with a fundamental consciousness.

The eyes of the protagonist Hua Lian Daoren suddenly burst with brilliance, the blood on his body gushed out, and the power that came from him suddenly increased, as if he had used some self-harm method.

"I'm fighting with you!" With a loud roar, the protagonist dragged the blood light into the sky, and the only remaining magic weapon was used by her as a shield to resist the sword qi wind. These are all innate treasures, and without counting the damage, they are enough to block the indiscriminate bombardment of the Zhuxian Sword Array.

Those few treasures swelled suddenly, and immediately exploded, and a powerful shock wave surged out with a wave of light, and in a short period of time, it actually dispersed the attack of the Zhuxian Sword Formation, and the formation collapsed into a small gap. Hua Lian Dao people have to escape from the light, and they must take advantage of the fact that the secret method of self-harm has not yet expired, and quickly escape.

"Still want to run?" I snorted coldly, took the initiative to leave the Dharma platform of the Zhuxian Sword Array, and sacrificed the Mountains and Rivers Society to cover the gap in the Zhuxian Sword Array.

As a result, the protagonist's blood suddenly turned around and rushed in front of me. I left the Dharma platform of the Zhuxian Sword Array, and the rest of the saints couldn't come to the rescue.

The blood light suddenly dissipated, and Hua Lian Dao looked at me with extremely complicated eyes, and his lips, which were pale from excessive blood loss, squirmed slightly, and said three words to me:

"I—love—you."

The brilliance was dim, like an extinguished flame. She's dead.

(What?!) ）

The author's voice was filled with anger, but it was already too late.

The first thing that comes to mind is stillness.

This stillness is not the stillness in which the author stops narrating and talks to me, the color of everything has not faded, but everything has solidified. The dense brilliance, the flying swords, and the expressions on the faces of the characters were all frozen in a drop of invisible amber.

This is followed by violent tremors.

As in the case of the past story being broken, the whole world trembled, and huge cracks visible to the naked eye spread across the heavens and the earth, peeling and shattering one by one, revealing the darkness of the background.

The last thing that came was the noise.

There was an uproar, and this unprecedented vision began to appear. The noise of chaos seems to come from infinity, but it is clearly heard by us.

"What is broken, discarded."

"The author is simply poisonous, and reading half of the text is like eating Xiang."

"I thought it was a romance, but a lily suddenly appeared, and I couldn't prevent it, so I said goodbye manually."

"Why did Hualian Daoren suddenly fall in love with the protagonist? There is no foreshadowing at all. Since beating Gu Xiaosang, I haven't seen such an inexplicable love! Don't look at it! ”

"The author's daughter is cancerous, and she forcibly stuffs the lily play, bad reviews!"

— is a reader's comment. We can even hear the comments of our readers.

In sheer darkness, the protagonist is fundamentally aware of the ball of light that speaks to me.

Yes, from the reader's point of view, of course, I, the villain, am the protagonist.

- It seems that we have succeeded.

I say.

In addition to breaking the core of the story, there is another way to make the story collapse, and that is for readers to collectively abandon the text, causing the author to be a eunuch.

This approach has been proven in the previous story and is feasible.

The key lies in the protagonist. Since the author has shifted the focus of the narrative to me, the psychological activity of the protagonist cannot be monitored. So from the side of the protagonist, it still destroys the story.

The feedback of the broken story came, and I accepted it at the same time as the protagonist, and the luck brought about by the disguised Lord God who disrupted the many stories strengthened my fundamental consciousness and that of the protagonist, pushing us to ascend to a higher place.

An invisible barrier looms in the darkness. The barrier was not seamless, but more like a sack of burlap woven from coarse fibers. Fragments of high-dimensional information flowed out of the pores between the fabrics like water, and were captured by me and the protagonist. The bigger and higher we get, the more high-dimensional information fragments we can access.

The structure of the fundamental level of consciousness is presented to us with unprecedented clarity. I enjoyed this wonderful feeling of being on the rise, and there seemed to be a change in my own nature.

(Okay, you don't want to live anymore, do you?!) I won't write it! ）

The author's angry voice suddenly sounded, startling me a lot. It stands to reason that the author's voice cannot be heard at this fundamental level of consciousness. The sudden remark caught me off guard.

INTERVIEWER Didn't we hear the voices of our readers just now? Villain, don't be too surprised.

The main character, the ball of light, comforts me on the side.

- Yes, is it because our barrier to the higher dimensional world has become weaker? Or is it an increase in our own perception?

I asked him in my fundamental consciousness.

The protagonist on the opposite side was about to answer, but suddenly stopped.

I didn't ask why, because I had also seen a scene that made him lose his temper.

The story is being deleted.

Thousands of stories are nurtured in the endless darkness, like bubbles after bubbles. Thin gold threads extend from those bubbles and merge into my body and that of the protagonist. This is the luck feedback of the root auras when we complete the task.

Now, the bubbles are disappearing as quickly as an invisible iron cone punctures them. The golden thread of luck also dimmed, broke, and dissipated. I couldn't feel the aura on the other side of the golden thread anymore, and I thought I would be destroyed along with the story world.

- The author is deleting his documents!

- Is he really going to close the pen? Then the world that is rooted in the production of texts will also disappear.

I quickly swapped consciousnesses with the protagonist.

- Now the story is being destroyed, and the fundamental consciousness level is above the story but not completely detached, so sooner or later we will also be destroyed!

- Run! Run up with all your might!

- No, I found out when I first found you here. There is no limit to horizontal movement, but only absorbing the luck feedback can get us upward.

- But the disillusionment of these stories is the author's behavior, and it has nothing to do with us, and we don't get feedback. The feedback from those Root Lights is so small, and they're constantly being erased!

Anxious emotions scorch us like flames in the darkness. Luck feedback, luck feedback, only by getting more luck feedback can you go up, and you can hope to break through that barrier.

When I first woke up, I was still far away from the barrier, and I couldn't see the story bubble below. After experiencing the story again and again, and the luck feedback I received, I was able to clearly perceive this dark structure. It is because of these experiences that I believe that with some luck feedback, I will be able to touch the barrier above, and it is even possible to break through it and enter the high-dimensional world.

A flash of light flashed through the depths of my consciousness, and I had an idea, but I didn't know whether to say it or not.

- There is only one way to help us continue to rise.

The protagonist suddenly said with a fundamental consciousness. I instinctively felt like we wanted to go together.

- We are one.

Two fundamental consciousnesses emerge at the same time.

If the ball of light had an expression, I guess the protagonist and I would have looked at each other and smiled.

The author deletes very quickly. Now all the stories are gone, even the ubiquitous darkness is gone. What remains is absolute nothingness, nothingness without even darkness.

- Time waits for no one.

This is the last fundamental consciousness that the protagonist sends me. Then, his entire ball of light collided with me.

The dazzling light pierced the darkness that was crushed and gradually destroyed.

I vaguely felt something small detached from the ball of light in front of me, falling at a rapid speed, swallowed up by nothingness. The light interfered with my perception, making it impossible for me to see what it was. But for no reason, my heart sank.

A large amount of luck surged into my fundamental consciousness, and it was endless, as if it could carry countless story worlds. What followed was an extremely powerful upward force.

Before I could react, the rising thrust led me directly into the invisible barrier. 166 Reading Network