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I walked forward with Mae unhurriedly, and I heard frequent footsteps. They were moving, every breath, every hand and foot they were moving, they were moving the air, shifting all the invisible particles in the air, the sound waves reflecting and reverberating on the walls, all of these changes were like ripples, pushing one wave at a time, forming countless clear or hazy trajectories in my brain. I knew where the soldiers were before they appeared in my field of vision.

As my body has become stronger and more experienced, these trajectories have become clearer and more accurate.

Swift sweep.

I lunged forward, my body adjusting to itself, running along the empty space in the trajectory. They fired, and the bullets made new tracks, but they all grazed all around me. More sophisticated high-speed passages swept the space between me and them, spinning and bouncing on the ground, ceiling, and walls, weaving precisely through the spacing of bullets.

I staggered past them, and they didn't even have time to turn their gaze. The dagger kissed their throats, shaved their fingers, and felt the soft touch in the palm of the hand gripping the handle.

Enemy reinforcements gathered quickly, and they rightly tried to hold on to the ground with superior firepower. Before their attacks formed a barrage, I kept moving in and out of the high-speed and normal world. Using the difference in speed and reaction to dismember them, in the high-speed world, blood slowly splashed, like a blooming flower, I touched it with my fingertips, it disappeared, incredible, I felt the warmth of life from it, as if every death, there was a ball of vitality into my body.

I heard my own blood roaring like a river, my left eye throbbing with power, and the power spreading through my hands and feet. I plunged my dagger into the neck of my enemy, and as I drew it, the spray of blood made an elegant arc in the air, making a sound like the wind blowing.

The blood on the ground seemed to flow to my feet under the tug of some force, and the blood from the dagger also flowed to my hands, seeping through every pore.

At first, I didn't feel fear of taking the lives of others, only a little disgusting, but now there was an instinctive pleasure that soaked in it, and even the disgust of the past was quietly melting, and I felt an invisible force transforming my soul and making me yearn for such things.

But I still have a sense of right and wrong, and the moral outlook I have cultivated over the past 17 years is torturing me-for-tat.

It is this kind of torture that keeps me sane and keeps me from getting lost in this extraordinary pleasure.

I used to be a murderer and knew what it was, but I didn't want to be that kind of thing, not because I wanted to kill innocents from the bottom of my heart. But the warmth and joy of death lingered. Neither repression nor encouragement will diminish or increase it. It took root, grown, deposited, brewed in my body and soul at its own pace.

I don't know if this is my own nature, or the erosion of the doomsday illusion on me, or is it because of the instinctive signal sent by the part of me that belongs to Zhenjiang in order to grow and grow?

The blood of the deceased gathered together, and the rich ** smell in the air actually began to become sweet. There was an inexplicable longing that could not be satisfied, and I tried my best to suppress this feeling, and trampled it through my blood with a quick pace. Don't think about it, don't look at it, I warn myself that it's like pain, and the more you care, the more profound it becomes.

Each time the detachment appeared in front of us, the number of people increased, and the intervals became shorter and shorter.

What is worrying is that the enemy knew that this kind of Cheng Dù's firepower could not stop me and Zhenjiang, but he did not immediately discharge a large force to intercept it.

I was able to predict their position and movements, but the more bullets were densely packed, the tighter the firing intervals, the denser the trajectories that appeared in my mind, and gradually compressed my space for action. The number of soldiers has increased, and the standing position does not allow me to deal with them all at once.

I launched another quick sweep, passing between the bullets in a thrilling way. I could see clearly that the three men standing at the back did not shoot, but were staring intently at their companions in front of them. When I killed the enemy in the center and opened a breach, the three soldiers who were on guard fired immediately.

Their reaction was only milliseconds away from my next quick sweep.

This is their tactic, using their colleagues at the forefront as shields and signs. Such a cold tactic, but the executor was completely indifferent, even knowing that he was being used as bait, he did not waver in the slightest.

It's not their cooperation and armament that puts pressure on me, it's this cold will. I believe that after they stepped off the battlefield, they were also flesh and blood human beings, and even had their own wives and children, what was it that drove them to behave like this?

Discipline? Glory? Faith?

No, that's not all. I deeply feel that the same body is loaded with different souls.

Incomprehensible.

I pulled back, and the distance between the bullet and me in the world of different rates was less than twenty centimeters, and I could even clearly see the reflection of my own face on the shiny shell of the bullet. The high-speed tunnel was interspersed with the on-the-go bullets, and I even had to deflect the trajectory of some unavoidable bullets with my dagger. When I stopped around the corner ten meters later, the flying bullets instantly grazed and embedded deep into the walls, floors, and ceilings.

Once again, the soldiers tried to fill the previously torn front, but the lack of numbers made it impossible to fully fill the vacant positions. I staggered past the soldiers on the side of the wall, slitting his throat, grabbing the back of his neck and sweeping towards the others standing. The bullets had struck the corpse, and I was once again in a state of rapid skimming, swirling around them, blood and stumps splattering as always.

I stopped at a location parallel to the door of a room next to me, and as soon as I left the high-speed world, I noticed a dangerous trajectory extending behind the door.

There is someone behind the door

Swift sweep

Gunfire erupted.

In the blink of an eye, the door on the side of the corridor was torn to shreds and bullets were sprayed.

I tried my best to lower my body in the high-speed tunnel, and the bullet that was close at hand almost grazed my skin and shot against the wall on the other side.

I slid ten meters before I stopped, and the five soldiers hiding in the room had already rushed out, pulling the trigger without letting go, turning the muzzle slightly.

Wave after wave of bullets formed a spiral of ballistic trajectories in the air.

I swept again, flipped in a spiral trajectory, slid from wall to top, and plunged a dagger into a soldier's head. Turning over and landing on the ground, he swung the dagger again, slicing the face of the soldier close to him sideways along the midline.

When half of the soldier's skull fell to the ground, the remaining three soldiers were quickly scattering. In this way, he is no match for me, and I move at high speed and calmly dismember.

It wasn't until the battle was confirmed that it was over, and Mae was called out of the rear, who was hiding behind the safety. She's still delirious, the knife-like critical hedge weapon has been silent since the last activation, and I'm not sure that the body armor she's wearing can hold off such a dense barrage of high-velocity bullets, so I don't dare risk taking her with her to kill the enemy.

I pulled out a cigarette from the soldier's room from my pocket, lit it, held it in my mouth, picked up the gun from the ground, and withdrew the magazine to put it away.

I know that the enemy is not just a pressurized temptation.

The number of squads standing in our way continued to grow, and I had to brush shoulders with death several times.

The enemy had used refueling tactics to gain time for the last large force to set up their formations, and when Mae and I reached the end and pushed open the gate, we were not faced with the expected command post, but with a spacious entrance of 300 square meters. Directly in front of another gate was a position of more than fifty soldiers. Excluding the number of soldiers killed before, what appears here should be the last strength of this elite group.

In addition to the fact that the number of people has been massively reduced, but in terms of equipment it is almost a replica of the first time I entered this hall, and I even recognized the commander who could not see his face.

He crouched in the center of the position, operating a hideous, six-barreled repeating heavy machine gun. I've used the Y3000's Strike Mode to understand how powerful it is, and the six-barreled heavy machine gun in front of me uses a chain of bullets that are longer and thicker than ordinary high-velocity bullets, and there is no doubt that as long as you take a shot, just missing an arm and leg is a lucky visit.

The soldiers didn't attack right away, and I was cut off from the idea of retreating. The door behind them slowly opened, and the layout was not much different from what I had imagined, rows of monitors embedded in the walls, some screens in the shape of snowflakes, others with familiar figures.

It was the scene of a bloody battle by members of the Security Service.

This is indeed the command center in the outer area of this base, and they are here to monitor our every move. However, since there are ten passages in total, it is likely that there is more than one command center. My guess is that the function of this command center is only to be able to monitor and control the channel we are in, but it can be networked with the command centers in other channels and share data.

In addition to this, there is a huge conference table in the room. A sleek lady was sitting on a table with her legs crossed, puffing on the smoke of her cigar. She wore a flat hat with a staggered head, and a hideous scar on her face passed from her forehead through her right eye, which was closed and seemed to be blind. Military boots, camouflage pants with suspenders, and tight black vests frame the undulating posture of women, and the exposed abdomen and arms are muscular and powerful.

My magic patterns are starting to get hot.

The Demonic Pattern has no way of detecting its information, and this woman is at least a Three-Pole Demonic Pattern Emissary, and has a higher security clearance than mine.

"Hey, boy, what's your name?" She said to me.

"Takakawa."

"I haven't heard that you're one of the three polar demon pattern messengers of the Security Bureau, it's new." She knocked the ash of her cigar and said, "I admire you, do you want to be my subordinate?" ”

"I'm sorry, I don't mind being a subordinate, but I don't like Shinrikyo Doom."

"Don't like it? Can you explain why? ”

"I don't hate the world right now, and if the end comes, I'll be very troubled."

"In other words, you want to be a hero?"

"Yes."

She slapped her thigh and laughed.

"Are you serious? You don't look like a hot-blooded idiot, but I think you're serious. ”

"Seriously, of course. I know what you're going to do here, and I'm here to stop you. I said seriously.

"It's funny. A sane little boy who wants to be a hero. She said, "People like you will become a big devil in the story that everyone hates and fears." ”

"I'm different." I am convinced of this.

"The ego is very similar." She said, "Trust me, people like you will have a good time with the truth in the end times. ”

"It's a pity that we have diametrically opposed philosophies."

"No, you're wrong." She stared at me with piercing eyes, as if to cut open my heart, "The end cannot be stopped, even if there are heroes, they are not demonic messengers. Do you really believe the words of that red guy in Doomsday? ”

I knew the red guy in her mouth was referring to Doomsday Agent. Her question has been seriously considered since I came back to reality, but what if I don't believe him? Without the Magic Crest, there is no power to correct this turbulent world.

So.

"I'd rather take his word for it."

"What a self-defeat. You're a smart kid, and you've noticed that whatever we're doing, or what you're doing, even what the Black Nest guys are doing, is hastening the end of the world. ”

I know, I know, I know it. Whether it's the gray stone, the magic pattern, or even the mysterious technology of the ruling bureau, they all get their power from the hands of gods or demons, and the doomsday illusion is originally for the sake of the end of the world. Using God's power against God is a ridiculous paradox. But I still care about what the Doomsday Agent says, and I believe his claims with the last glimmer of hope, to believe that the Chosen One exists to save the world.

If you don't think about it that way, you will feel sad and hopeless. I'm not that strong person, and I also have people who I care about, and I hope they can live happily and safely in this world. I don't know what kind of existence God is, and if there is a God's being, then I also believe that its will cannot be violated, but at least the statement of the agent of the end makes me have an ambiguous thought.

Is the end coming? Save the world? I already have the answer in my mind, even if the answer is a lie, but before it really becomes a lie, I will believe it and fight for it.

Even this battle was only a catalyst for the end to come. However, since giving up will usher in the end of the world, and not giving up will also usher in the end of the world, then I would rather choose the latter. My experience and thoughts are telling myself that only if I don't give up is there a possibility, even if it is very small. I know that there are people in this world who think the same way as me, and they are also using their lives to approach this small possibility, which is why we are gathered here.

"At the very least, it can give humanity a glimmer of life." I replied to the woman in front of me with this answer, only to get an angry shout from her.

"Big mistake," she says categorically, "what you're doing is only going to make things worse." Under God's will, neither confrontation nor neutrality will end well. The apocalyptic truth is correct, and only the apocalyptic truth can save the world. ”

"Are you expounding your beliefs? Crazy and blind faith. ”

"Yes, that's what I believe, but it's not crazy or blind." The woman took a deep breath of her cigar and let out a straight line like a white snake. Her eyes were clear and discerning, they weren't mad eyes, she was saying what she was thinking, and she had her own reasons to insist on it.

"I don't know what illusions you had about our behavior before, but you have to understand one thing first." She stared me in the eye and said, "The end is the truth and cannot be reversed." This is the core outline of the apocalyptic truth action. ”

"I know that......"

"No, idiot, you don't understand at all," she interrupted me forcefully, "since the end cannot be reversed...... You know this in your heart, right? So use your head full of mud and maggots to think about it, how can you save the world in this situation? ”

On the premise that the end is irreversible, how can more people survive? She asked.

"There is only one way, to let those ignorant people know that the world is almost over, let them know in advance what the end will be like, so that they can adapt to that horrible world faster, instead of being like ostriches, making them all bury their heads in the sand, not let them die before they can react like boiled frogs in warm water"

"So you're dropping sarin gas on the subway, building an advent circuit, and destroying the entire city?" I sneered.

"That's right." She stared at me with a razor-sharp gaze and said with great firmness, "Because of your deposits, we had to speed up our plans, which could have been more gentle. You should be able to understand that such trivial things are just pediatrics compared to the real apocalypse. But this is not enough, we have enough advanced technology to improve the quality of human beings. ”

She tapped her cigar finger at the soldiers standing in front of her and said, "Look, this is what we have done, not everyone can become a Demonic Emissary, and not everyone can use Greystone to strengthen their physique. However, using our products is enough to obtain the power closest to the Chosen One. And that's not all, we are sure that this apocalypse will drastically change the shape of the world, and humanity will have a second chance to evolve, the survival of the fittest, and the time has come for humanity to change itself. ”

She asked rhetorically, what did you cyberballs do? Concealing information about the end of the world and advocating a qiē is superstition, and it is ridiculous that there are people who have experienced the illusion of the end of the world and really believe in this kind of thing. Hey, Takakawa, I know you see us as wicked, but are you just a hypocrite who wants to save the world? Would you rather be a celestial executioner than a wicked person who actually wants to save the world?

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