On the hillside under the morning sun.

Fang solemnly bowed to Duchamp, then turned and walked into the distance.

"Come on!" Duchamp, who was holding a blue bird, shouted arrogantly.

Fang walked to a place of sufficient distance, carried his momentum enough, and suddenly ran wildly, reaching a distance of three or five meters from Duchamp, and suddenly danced his two-handed big sword and cut off his head.

Duchamp's sword was only as wide as his great sword, and if he forcibly took it, perhaps the knife would not escape the fate of being cut in two.

What's more, why did Fang start wielding his knife at such a distance.

When the two-handed big sword was handed forward another meter, a trace of red brilliance suddenly appeared on the double blades of the big sword.

The power of the fire is now released.

The big sword slashed through the air, the light on the sword body became brighter and brighter, and even the patterns on the sword body seemed to become three-dimensional, as if countless pairs of wings had been added to the big sword, and there was a faint sound of wind and thunder in the air.

Duchamp didn't mean to dodge at all, he waved the blue bird and greeted it, using a "unloading" word in the knife technique.

Fang Wei smiled, his hand did not relax, he looked at 1/4 of Duchamp's sword, and slashed down.

While! Duchamp actually caught it.

Moreover, the knife was not made of very good material, and it did not look damaged in any way.

"How?"

Duchamp said triumphantly: "My Yao! ”

My yao, of course, is illusory.

After breaking through to the eighth order, the golden light that once spread all over his body did not transform into Duchamp's Empty Yao affinity, but instead became more and more handy. Just now, he had successfully said that the illusory power was attached to the blue bird, forming an invisible shield that dissolved Fang's slash.

Free and unconventional, the mystery of illusion is getting closer and closer to Duchamp.

And for the control of Kongyao, Duchamp is still in a process of hard searching.

"Now, isn't it your turn to pick me up?" Duchamp smirked.

Fang waved his knife without showing weakness, which means: Xiao Sample, come on, I thought that if you broke through to the eighth order, how great it would be!

Duchamp took ten steps back and stood.

Goode hurriedly beckoned Eisenberg to step back, until he was thirty paces away.

"Be careful, Stelleur's move has been accomplished!" He warned Eisenberg as he assumed a defensive posture and watched Duchamp's movements intently.

Eisenberg was doing the same thing, trying to see Duchamp's moves.

A little red sun peeked out from behind the mountains, bringing about the transformation of day and night and the change of the power field.

Now is the time!

Duchamp raised his knife and caught the activity of the empty power in the second just now.

His body echoed the power of the void, and he rose into the air and slashed towards the square.

Fang suddenly felt that Duchamp's knife today was more powerful than before.

He made a quick decision and pressed the mechanism on the hilt.

Call! On the thick-backed broad-bladed two-handed greatsword, golden flames burned, and those ancient patterns came to life completely.

Dawn, this is a rare magic weapon.

Fang waved the glow, and the last hair came first, slashing at the blue bird.

His knife was much thicker and heavier, and it was not he who suffered in a head-to-head confrontation.

Duchamp had no intention of changing his moves, and his slash slashed directly into the space in front of him.

Yaoguang and the blue bird have not yet handed over, so they know why Duchamp is so confident. Where the bluebird's blade swung, the space was collapsing, completely drawing the power that flickered on his glow.

His hands could no longer hold the sword.

"Unload!"

At the critical moment, Duchamp changed the trajectory of the bluebird's swing and brought this power to the sky.

Fang's light came out of his hand, his face turned pale, this was not only a martial artist who had been removed from his blade, but just now, he had already touched the terrifying power of the shattering space.

How many people's bodies are able to resist such a blow.

Goode ran and picked up Fang's knife. Eisenberg's face was pale, and he was still immersed in the horror of Duchamp's knife just now.

That sword intent, with an invincible will, frustrated people's morale.

"This knife is good, did you choose a name?" Fang urged the blood qi, recovered the blood color on his face, and asked calmly.

"Rising Sun Slash!"

This is Duchamp on the top of the mountain, and after many baths in the morning and sunset, he finally stabilized and was recognized by the system, and the evaluation was as high as S. The systematic evaluation said that "practice to the extreme, you can break the space barrier in front of you".

Before creating this move, he had twice seen a master perform a trick of the empty attribute.

For the first time, it was the tea-haired Sister Hongyaoshi, who used the principle of spatial squeezing to easily crush the witch's invisible blade.

The second time, in the Sun Fortress, the powerful knight swung his sword and stabbed, causing the surrounding space to collapse and break the sealing barrier of the sixth layer.

The devastating momentum of the empty attribute left a deep impression on him.

And his knife is a slashing force. Chopping, that is, cutting off, with the characteristics of the void, produces an indestructible edge.

At the moment, he has not really understood the principle of emptiness, and before each move, he must gather the strength of his whole body and adjust the state to the best, so that the move can be powerful.

Therefore, every day when the sun rises, he can only swing a sword.

"Good name!" Fang was not frustrated by this knife, but ignited infinite fighting spirit. "Come again!"

"Tomorrow! I'm going to deliver chicken soup to the professor! Duchamp walked away without looking back.

The chicken broth was served in a thermos pot from the white house, and Duchamp brought it to Professor Ashley's office while it was hot.

There was a voice in the office that the professor had arrived.

"Morning, Professor!"

Duchamp pushed the door in, and was about to say something of concern, but was choked in his throat by the image in front of him.

The two new first-year assistants were diligently helping Professor Ashley sort through the papers on his desk, while the professor himself was still playing with the match.

This situation and this scene make people who are worried about you embarrassed!

"Professor, have you hit the first place in the whole network?" Duchamp said angrily.

"It's almost there, and now there are more and more algorithms in the school network, and there are more and more masters. Styry, you've just come at the right time, I've just had an idea in the past two days. The professor said happily.

Listening to the voice, he seemed to have regained his vitality.

"What thoughts?" Duchamp asked weakly.

"Look at this!"

Professor Ashley handed over the blank paper that his assistant had just arranged.

Duchamp looked at it, and there was a small abstract painting above each white sheet of paper, and a large number of arrows and instructions below. Rao is Duchamp so smart that he didn't understand it.

"What is this?" Duchamp asked, raising the paper.

"That's right, I wasn't in a good mood a few days ago, so I was playing a small game with familiar instructions, and I suddenly had an inspiration."

Professor Ashley grumbled, leaned back in his chair, and said proudly:

"If an icon can represent a large list of instructions, why should we memorize those complex instructions and reduce them to icons. As long as some smart people study how to simplify instructions into icons, they can save most people's energy. ”

Duchamp suddenly realized, he glanced at the paper in his hand, and immediately understood the meaning of the professor's graffiti.

Each piece of paper represents this piece of application.

"Professor, you're a genius!"

"yes, I think hahahaha, too!" The professor let out a string of arrogant laughter.

It's been a long time since I've heard such a silly and innocent smile.

Duchamp hurriedly flattered: "Not to mention anything else, your idea will be popularized on every terminal in the future, so that ordinary people who have not undergone any special training can master the terminal by themselves after exploring for a while, so as to lay a solid foundation for the popularization of the guide network." If every terminal in the future is as difficult as it is now, and even university professors have to learn for months to operate, how can ordinary people master it? ”

"yes, is it that useful?" Professor Ashley was pleasantly surprised, and although he was inspired, he had not thought that far ahead.

"Of course, you think, on each piece of paper, it is just a simplification of a password, and the upper layer of the graphical instructions can continue to be superimposed, until a certain intention of the operator is clearly executed. And when you want to modify a part of the instruction, you just need to go down to the bottom to find the instruction icon that needs to be modified, and replace it with a new instruction. A number of icon instructions are collected together according to a certain function or a certain type of function to form a complete graphical operation software. Installing several or dozens of such software on a terminal forms a complete operating system. Then, a simple brochure explaining the functions will be compiled so that anyone can operate the terminal smoothly. ”

"Ah, wonderful, I didn't even expect this to this extent. Styry, you're a genius! Professor Ashley exclaimed excitedly, patting his thigh.

The two new assistants who didn't understand it at all felt a little tired in their hearts, could it be that the secret to a good relationship with their mentor is to tout to each other that 'you are such a genius'!

Professor Ashley was excited, rubbed his hands nervously and said, "No, there are more smart people in this world." I'm going to draft a paper and send it to the Epstein Journal of Conductivity for publication, Styry, don't do anything else in the next two days, come and help me draw up this paper, and then co-sign our names. ”

The thought of having another paper published in the Epstein Journal of Conductivity ignited a fire of war in Professor Ashley's body. He found a good pen and pulled out a stack of official letters, ready to start immediately.

Suddenly, he thought of a key question, turned his head and asked Duchamp: "What is this system called?" ”

"Graphical operating system." Duchamp replied confidently.