Chapter 212 Fog
After the self-destruct sequence was initiated, Pandora sat quietly in her bedroom and watched.
She stared at the floating city, a paradise filled with the wealth and honor of countless people—now filled only with countless flames and explosions, and behind it, a silent abyss.
The life of this colossal creature had come to an end; the fire of purification burned brightly, and the fireworks show reached its climax.
Five minutes later, Heaven's Gospel Company held an emergency meeting—in the form of a virtual salon space.
The decor here is similar to his mother Eoubs' salon, clearly something Li Lin deliberately created. The room as a whole resembles a gigantic rose blooming out of nothingness, even the climate can be holographically simulated. Thin snowflakes drift in at an angle, the wind whistles, and outside the window, one can see piles of bonfires, burning endlessly. The conference room's design differs from the company's main building, featuring only dark gold and slush wood tones, subtly flowing, exuding a solid and stable luxury.
When Li Lin walked in, for the first time he wasn't wearing a suit. Instead, he was wearing a work uniform that they couldn't quite understand... with a string of characters printed on the chest and various paints and blood stains on the hem.
Several marketing staff members in the planning team glanced at him but didn't dare to say anything. For a moment, no one in the entire salon wanted to say anything to him.
Three minutes earlier, three Destroyer missiles struck his mansion in Manhattan's SoHo district—the news was published on the national live news network within seconds—the person responsible for spreading the message was Pandora, who had recently appeared on the wanted list. According to the latest intelligence from the clearance department, a group of indiscriminate thugs had also appeared in the city, attacking and torturing everything in sight, and were preparing to escalate the situation further.
As those bombed-up business departments often said—if someone wants to go to Xinsheng, there will always be bloodshed; it's a wolf-like job, so you have to suffer for a while.
Similar riots are occurring across New York, with five cases already reported and the pace rapidly accelerating. However, these are, after all, trained and meticulously crafted...tools. In such a sudden uproar, choices were quickly made. It was clear to anyone with eyes to see that the rioters' attacks were initially targeted and wouldn't last long before descending into chaos. People simply wanted to cause trouble, or perhaps they were simply acting under orders.
After a while, the person in charge of handling the aftermath greeted him—even though he was wearing a casual T-shirt and arrived late, he was still the "core of the board of directors," which is the eternal symbol of the gospel of heaven.
Yu Yu sat on the sofa with a wine glass in her hand, looking at him expressionlessly. No one came near her—in their eyes, this woman's power in the company was second only to Yu Jianchu's, and no one dared to mess with them.
Li Lin walked into the salon, grabbed a bottle of wine at random, and sat down at the main table. He then took a gold glass from the cabinet, poured a full glass of strong liquor, took a sip, and squinted at the people around him, making it impossible to discern his emotions.
The group only stared for a few seconds before looking away, thinking to themselves that this appearance was truly terrifying, more frightening than the earth exploding.
The salon remained silent, permeated with a sense of despondency. The sky was overcast and gloomy, with only pale light mixed with snow drifting in. The light was bright and pure, yet also dim and unbearable, as if some kind of treasure with a very short shelf life had expired and was now beginning to rot and decay. The developers responsible for simulating the climate must have had ulterior motives.
These privileged elites of the "Gospel of Heaven" finally began to talk—the content was a jumbled mess, with only a few touching on the real issues. They chatted as if at a lavish banquet that had already ended. Many talked about He Yu and Pandora, about how New York City was in utter chaos, how all the advertising videos on the public internet had been replaced with live explosions, and how the pronouncements had been replaced by countless chaotic color codes flashing wildly on the screen. It seemed everyone had realized the world was fucking doomed, and so they decided to fight to the death, to stir up some trouble while the chaos was at its worst.
—The internal database of Heaven's Gospel was blessed by Li Lin, containing thousands of confidential codes. Yu Yu thought to herself, that method was too familiar, reminding her of a girl who was too playful—clearly, she had directly gone to great lengths to attack the relevant programs, turning the rules he created into a pot of rotten apples.
She has awakened and received... a certain message.
I just don't know if the perpetrators of this riot have noticed. Well, even if they have, it doesn't matter.
Anyway, this is a virtual salon, a subspace that connects mental fluctuations. In reality, she is waiting in a taxi to meet up with He Yu.
All files containing top-secret data now have similar vulnerabilities, and the technical staff at Heaven's Gospel are working tirelessly to fix them. When Yu Yun last checked on them before coming in, they had already written hundreds of new defense codes. She knew what they were doing—better late than never, but it was timely. This place had been operating for so long that it had developed its own ecosystem, so everyone was already assigned tasks. They would know that at some point, they would have to sacrifice something.
She felt she could leave, and no one cared whether she was there or not, but she remained seated in the corner, bottle in hand, watching with relish as the core area of the Heavenly Gospel began to decay.
Inside the salon, some of the powerful and influential were still in a daze, while others were quite excited, telling others that this riot was just a grain of sand among countless trivial matters. They were still powerful, capable of swallowing the entire world at any moment. The armed forces had already sent people to clean up the mess. Those idiots deserved to die; living so happily under Director Li's care, yet they still dared to rebel. They deserved to be tortured a thousand times over.
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