Chapter 211 Data Intrusion

An hour later.

Pandora sat on the kitchen floor, which was covered in grease and detergent residue—she had nowhere else to go, and this was the only place with a decent signal. At the same time, she thought He Yu was a real troublemaker, dumping all sorts of messy things on her—but in the virtual space with terminal access, she was sitting among a pile of corpses.

The blood-soaked, slaughterhouse-like temple was filled with countless daggers, gunpowder, human limbs, empty test tubes, shattered firearms, and hallucinogens. Under the bright light, the weapons and remains emitted a putrid stench, lying quietly with an aura of death and end.

She certainly didn't know what the things manifested in this data space meant, but in Pandora's eyes, they were just intertwined codes, the bloodlines and organs of the absurd, rule-bound, and extremely terrifying gospel of heaven. She was crossing the line and staring intently at them.

Behind Pandora—the scene shifts in an instant, revealing a live map of New York City's entire public network in less than milliseconds—all the data is in a frenzied explosion, encryption and self-destruct programs constantly activating and disappearing. Any transplant center brimming with the blood of all things bursts like a bubble within seconds of its birth. There are countless rotting flames attempting to abandon their human identities, and countless unfamiliar faces, the mad, ruthless, and inhuman citizens they raise, who love new life, are obsessed with achieving immortality, and whose faces always bear the expression of being lost in the beautiful world bestowed by hallucinogens.

In these people's value system, dying during a transplant is merely another form of obtaining new life; perhaps death doesn't even exist. The reality they've experienced is far from being dark, desperate, noisy, and chilling; they haven't tasted the stench of rotting bamboo in the air—so they have no fear.

Pandora directly accessed the code program of the Heavenly Gospel Armed Forces—the same group that was clamoring to arrest her and He Yu and execute them—and with a wave of her hand, all the firearms, including railgun strikes, satellite lock-on, missile authorization, laser strangulation nets, etc., all entered the destruction process on their own, and the debris was sent in batches to the noisy public area by the teleportation machine.

The overall communication authority of the Heavenly Gospel Passage Department, the execution code of the Blood Source of All Things, the self-destruct authority of the Board of Directors to control 3,002 large siege weapon warehouses... those are tens of thousands of execution codes, which can be infinitely copied to every citizen's mobile phone with just a thought, like sparks from a chainsaw cutting, falling from the wailing steel with enough flames to destroy all life in the world.

That was half an hour before Li Lin requested the execution meeting with the armed forces department after he realized they had woken up.

At that moment, countless people eager to participate in the transplant surgery suddenly possessed a weapon control program powerful enough to destroy the entire city.

In the magnified control template, Pandora used a tiny trick to see the bewildered mobsters of Bloodborne, who were in the suspended garden above Twisted New York, finally snap out of their daze and shout that they absolutely had to do something to stop this inexplicable attack. Their expressions were so agitated—like when Beelzebub forcibly conscripted the citizens of Jerusalem to participate in a theatrical show. This group quickly made a decision to destroy the entire data core of Heaven's Gospel in the first moment before the attack spread.

Most of this group had undergone rigorous training; only a small portion were new hires, and some weren't exactly newcomers. But regardless of their background, in the world Li Lin created, in this virtual era, they were all highly skilled at destroying the world they championed.

All the related subsidiaries stretched out across New York City like a giant spider web, countless decisions, medals, announcements, and urgent documents revealing a wound about to fester. If it were just a few of them... it certainly wouldn't have succeeded, but things happened suddenly. At the same time that this group made their self-destructive decision, nearly three hundred subsidiaries throughout Heaven's Gospel made the same plan.

Of course, some people with wishful thinking did not choose to participate, simply because they were too busy or felt that this was just a test from the board of directors, something that had happened before—everyone was just putting on a show.

And so, the magical floating city began to tilt. Between the domes, it was as if an invisible giant hand exerted its force from behind, easily overturning the city created by humankind, and all the lights symbolizing luxury disappeared into darkness... The next second, in the gap before they could even react—a huge, resounding explosion rang out, leaving tens of thousands of holes in the jewel-like floating garden—all defensive force fields and emergency procedures fell silent, and blood and smoke stained the sky.

Dozens of unexploded missiles roared across the sky, some screaming, others stunned, having forgotten how to plan their next move. The split-screen logs were filled with images of death and carnage, messages about the failure of the Blood Source, and incoherent pronouncements.

Just a thought... prompted them to press the activation button, and missiles mixed with inhibitors and bio-viruses swept wildly across the city, destroying everything indiscriminately, with no way to block them.

Pandora felt a surge of secret satisfaction. Good riddance! Damn it, those brainwashing idiots deserved to die.

She moved to a different spot, having just discovered a few minutes earlier that this shop had a place isolated from the public network—she was currently sitting cross-legged on the dirty floor of the owner's bedroom. The environment wasn't great, with garbage bags, food scraps, and a pair of unwashed clothes scattered everywhere. But she couldn't see it from her field of vision. All that surrounded her were countless flowing, fragmented screens, alternating back and forth as if they were alive, following their own set of rules in the universe unique to data.

At this moment, what appears before Pandora is the core database of the Heavenly Gospel Headquarters.

Thousands of lines of code flashed by, each line of which, if read, could make those idiot planners wail in despair. And these things of destruction, accumulated to this point, have evolved into monsters from a nightmare, only growing more terrifying and bloodier with each passing moment.

The lifeline of New York City hovered around her; even the floor beneath her feet trembled from the barrage of Dome missiles, but Pandora remained oblivious. She simply nimbly dragged a dark green digital screen across her face, and with a swipe, it suddenly grew enormous, like the wide-open vertical pupils of a ferocious beast awakening, encompassing all the deadly records within.

She stared intently, her eyes no longer filled with the silence and coldness of the past; countless rays of light spontaneously ignited within them, exploding into dazzling colors.

"What a... vast and magnificent world template it is."