460: Chapter 459 The Wordless Stone Tablet Speaks the Truth: All Creators Are of the Same Root

Facing the world-destroying monolith that was trembling violently due to resonance, Zhou Wannian raised his fist.

In this backend Void Realm, cleared of all matter and Laws, the fist of his right hand became the sole physical center of the entire dimension.

The cold, faint luminescence originally scattered around was, at this moment, seemingly subjected to an irresistible pull, converging one after another toward the dense black dot in front of his fist.

Light was stretched into twisted, slender filaments, then submerged into that abyss the size of a mustard seed, with not even a glimmer of reflection escaping.

Zhou Wannian did not roar, nor did he muster any grand True Qi.

He simply used the same simple posture one would use to punch a hooligan on a small-town street, and threw his right arm—which had anchored the power of ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine jade-like chains—forward in a plain, unremarkable strike.

The target was aimed directly at the sunken "Void" imprint in the very center of the Whetstone.

The speed of this punch was not fast; in the retina of an ordinary person, one could even clearly capture every frame of the trajectory of the cyan sleeve moving forward.

But within the underlying logic of this space, this punch had already transcended the concept of distance.

As soon as the fist tip extended, that dense black dot, which devoured everything, had already crossed a hundred zhang of the Void Realm and landed solidly against the rough, pitch-black surface of the Whetstone.

The Absolute Mass tempered by the Great Perfection Space Law and the world-destroying monolith representing the ultimate Heat Death of the Universe collided at this moment in an unreserved physical clash.

No deafening explosion erupted.

There was no medium in this space to transmit sound waves; the world-destroying kinetic energy generated by that collision was directly converted into a ripple of Laws that threatened to tear the Divine Soul apart.

Zhou Wannian felt a dull resistance coming from his right arm.

It was like a Mortal throwing a punch with all their might into a solid mountain cast from ten-thousand-year black ice.

The Absolute Mass, collapsing inward, did not break through with unstoppable force the instant it touched the Whetstone, as it had when piercing the swamp shield earlier.

On the Whetstone, the "Void" imprint that occupied a large portion of its surface underwent a terrifying mutation within one ten-thousandth of a second after the fist made contact.

Originally just a silhouette highlighted by absolute emptiness, at this very moment, a layer of dark, profound light suddenly ignited within every stroke of the "Void" character.

This light was not white, nor was it red; it was a black light that was pure to the extreme.

This black light was deeper than the material of the Whetstone itself; it did not radiate outward to illuminate anything, but instead, like greedy, gaping maws, it crazily devoured every concept that dared to approach.

The moment the dim light ignited, the dense black dot on Zhou Wannian's fist, which had been invincible, came to a halt.

The terrifying inward-collapsing force brought by the Absolute Mass encountered the "Void" character emitting the dim light. A bizarre cancellation occurred between the two.

Zhou Wannian attempted to crush and flatten this stone, while the "Void" character, using a more brutal underlying logic, completely "zeroed out" all the physical kinetic energy and spatial pressure attached to Zhou Wannian's fist.

"No matter how heavy you are, I can erase that weight. No matter how much destructive power you have, I can turn that destructive power into meaningless emptiness."

"Szz—Szzzz—" Between Zhou Wannian's fist and the glowing "Void" character, a series of fine, ear-piercing noises erupted. It was the wailing of two of the Universe's top-tier underlying Laws strangling and annihilating each other.

Zhou Wannian's washed-out cyan cloth robe was blown straight back in the aftermath of the collision between the two forces, and the fabric of his sleeves emitted a tearing sound, unable to bear the strain.

His eyes, deep as cold pools, narrowed slightly as he stared fixedly at the dark imprint just inches away.

His feet slid back half an inch in the Void Realm. This was the first time since stepping into the Taiwu Ancestral Court that he had been forced back in a direct physical collision.

But on his handsome face, no sign of exasperation appeared. On the contrary, that trace of stubbornness, suppressed for ten million years, broke through like a blade emerging from the soil, completely occupying his brow and eyes.

"If you want to dissolve my strength, you'll have to see how deep this broken well of yours is."

Zhou Wannian's wrist sank abruptly, and within his inner universe of Divine Soul, those ninety-thousand-plus jade-like chains simultaneously emitted a heaven-shaking, clear Dragon roar.

More Absolute Mass was forcibly squeezed out from the depths of his concept, flowing down his right arm and continuously pouring into the black dot in front.

He intended to use pure weight to force the appetite of this "Void" character to burst.

However, just as he was preparing to exert a new round of force.

The "Void" character, emitting the dim black light, suddenly ceased its resistance to the Absolute Mass. That zeroing Law, which had been crazily dissolving physical kinetic energy, was withdrawn without warning.

Zhou Wannian's fist lost its resistance, and with a terrifying inertia capable of piercing through countless Major Thousand Worlds, it slammed heavily onto the imprint.

However, the scene of the Whetstone shattering into pieces, which he had anticipated, did not occur.

The fist struck the area emitting the dim light, like punching into a mass of intangible, thick ink.

The sensation of impact was so hollow it was unsettling. Zhou Wannian felt his entire right arm instantly submerge into the "Void" character, and that cold, void-like sensation, as if even his own existence was being stripped away, drilled straight into his bone marrow along the texture of his skin.

He frowned, immediately cut off the output of power, tapped his toes in the Void Realm, and retreated smoothly for dozens of zhang.

Zhou Wannian steadied himself and lifted his right hand to take a look. The cuff was intact, the skin on the back of his hand remained fair, and he had suffered no substantial harm.

But he could clearly feel that the massive Absolute Mass he had poured into his fist just moments ago had been completely swallowed by the "Void" character in an instant, not even causing a ripple.

He lowered his arm, folded his hands behind his back again, and looked coldly at the huge black Whetstone.

At this moment, the "Void" character on the Whetstone underwent a bizarre change.

The dim black light, originally just adhering to the stone surface, seemed to have gained a kind of living vitality after devouring the Absolute Mass of Zhou Wannian's punch. The black light began to flow out along the pits and bumps of the stone surface like viscous liquid.

A large amount of thick, black light gathered and churned in front of the Whetstone. This mass of black light hovered in mid-air, gradually detaching from the surface of the stone. It was like a piece of black glass melted by high heat, constantly twisting, stretching, and shaping itself in the Void Realm.

Zhou Wannian watched this mass of constantly changing black light quietly, his eyes growing increasingly deep and dark.

From that mass of black light, no hostility emanated, nor did it emit any nauseating Death Qi. It was clean, pure, like a shadow without any Impurities.

A few breaths later, the writhing of the black light ceased. What appeared before Zhou Wannian was a humanoid silhouette.

This outline was composed entirely of that profound black light, with no facial features, no skin texture, and no colors of clothing. It was simply a three-dimensional, solid silhouette.

However, looking at this black silhouette, the muscles on the cheeks of Zhou Wannian's usually calm face twitched uncontrollably.

Every detail of this silhouette exuded a sense of familiarity that chilled him to the bone. The width of the shoulders, the curve of the neck. The standing posture, slightly hunched, exuding a sense of laziness. The two arms also folded behind the back, with the curvature of the fingers being exactly the same. And that robe outline, which, although colorless, had the folds of the hem and the width of the cuffs perfectly replicated in proportion to the washed-out cyan cloth robe he was wearing.

This was not a monster at all. This was Zhou Wannian's own shadow. A black silhouette that had crawled out from the world-destroying Whetstone, composed purely of the concept of "Void" mixed with his Absolute Mass.

The silhouette stood in front of the Whetstone, facing Zhou Wannian across dozens of zhang of the Void Realm, quietly confronting him. It had no eyes, but Zhou Wannian could clearly feel a gaze scrutinizing him. That gaze had no emotional fluctuation; it was cold and rational, just like him looking into a mirror painted pure black.

"Mimicking my stance—do you find this posture more comfortable, or do you think this appearance will make me show mercy?" Zhou Wannian's calm voice rippled through the Void Realm. He was not intimidated by this bizarre mirror image, and his words still carried that hint of commoner's mockery.

The black silhouette did not move immediately. It slowly lowered its hands, which had been folded behind its back. In this movement, the amplitude of the arms swinging and that sense of casualness were simply a carbon copy of Zhou Wannian himself.

Subsequently, on the smooth, featureless face of the silhouette, the position where the mouth should have been slightly indented inward. A voice emanated from that indentation.

"I am not mimicking you." The voice was cold, flat, devoid of any Mortal aura, and free of the harsh, synthetic sound Impurities typical of high-dimensional machinery.

This voice reached Zhou Wannian's ears, causing his pupils to contract slightly. It was his own voice.

But it was different from the pieced-together mirror monster in the wine shop earlier. The voice of that mirror monster carried undisguised Death Qi and noise; it was a clumsy imitation. But the voice emitted by this black silhouette before him was pure and natural, and even the habit of the trailing tone slightly lowering when speaking was exactly the same. It was like Zhou Wannian speaking in an empty valley, hearing a crystal-clear echo.

The silhouette looked at Zhou Wannian and continued to speak in that flat voice: "I do not need to mimic you. Because this appearance, this standing posture, including the tone of your speech, were originally meant to be this way. You and I, in essence, are no different."

Zhou Wannian looked at this version of himself made of black light and let out a scoff. "Growing a face like a ball of black coal and coming to claim kinship with me. The methods of building connections for things at the bottom of this Withered Well are truly eye-opening."

He lifted his right hand and tapped his chest with his index finger. "I am a living person who has forged iron and drunk sour wine in the Lower Realm. You are a stone shadow sharpening knives in a pile of dead people. You say you are no different from me—are you drunk, or do you think I've gone senile?"

The black silhouette did not produce any emotional fluctuation due to this mockery. Its featureless face was directed straight at Zhou Wannian, and its voice flowed out as calmly as a pool of stagnant water.

"Those memories of forging iron in the Lower Realm, those preferences for drinking—they are merely mundane Impurities you have acquired over the long passage of time, as an excuse to find a foothold for your own vast, undefinable mass."

The silhouette slowly lifted a black arm and pointed at Zhou Wannian. "Do you really believe that an ordinary Mortal blacksmith could comprehend the Great Perfection Space Law that transcends the Universe? Do you really believe that a Mortal flesh body could bear that Absolute Mass capable of crushing even black holes?"

This sentence was like a heavy hammer, mercilessly striking Zhou Wannian's rock-solid Dao Heart.

Zhou Wannian did not speak. In his eyes, deep as an abyss, a layer of subtle ripples arose. This was a question he had never delved into, or rather, had deliberately avoided for ten million years. Why him?

In the All Heavens and Myriad Worlds, across countless epochs, brilliant and talented Prodigies were as numerous as carp crossing the river. How many Demon Lords had used unscrupulous means for immortality, how many Immortal Emperors had penetrated the mysteries of Heaven and Earth; they spent their whole lives merely spinning in circles within this cage of the Universe.

Why was it that he, a blacksmithing Mortal, could, after putting down his hammer one day, advance with such unstoppable momentum, easily crossing the threshold that all powerful beings dreamed of, and ultimately possess this Absolute Mass that even the Universe itself could not constrain?

He had always attributed this to his own following of his heart, to his own good luck, and to simply happening to align with some secret Dao in this world.

But now, this black silhouette stood before him, using the coldest tone to cruelly tear away this veil of self-deception.

"You are not some Cultivator who transcended due to good luck." The black silhouette lowered its arm, and the hem of the robe, composed of black light, swayed slightly in the Void Realm, like a mass of burning black flame.

"You are a seed that this Universe, in order to resist its own ultimate Heat Death, nurtured at the very beginning of its birth."

The silhouette's voice echoed in this cold backend space, carrying a grandeur and coldness that spoke of the ultimate truth of the Universe.

"From the moment this Universe exploded from the initial singularity and began to expand continuously, the underlying logic had already calculated its final outcome."

The silhouette seemed to be recalling those infinitely ancient primeval years; there was no pity for destruction in its tone, only the rigidity of describing an objective fact.

"The Universe will continue to expand, energy will be consumed, and matter will become sparse. Those countless civilizations and Major Thousand Worlds that have proliferated are like parasites attached to a tree trunk. They crazily extract the Origin of the Universe, converting originally pure energy into various redundant wastes. One day, all Spiritual Qi will dry up, and all stars will extinguish. This massive body will be completely sucked dry by these parasites, turning into a cold corpse, riddled with holes and devoid of any temperature."

"This is Heat Death. It is the inevitable death that no Law can reverse."

The black silhouette pointed to the huge, boundless black Whetstone behind it.

"In order not to die slowly in endless pain and rot, the Universe's underlying defense mechanism derived this Whetstone. It works in the background, grinding off, one by one, the threads of Laws that support the survival of the parasites. It is executing a slow 'euthanasia,' attempting to return this already decaying shell, cleanly, to the Void."

The silhouette folded its hands behind its back again. "But this is not enough. The Whetstone can only erase Laws and clean up waste. It cannot stop the physical framework of the Universe, which has already become loose and infinitely expanding. Even if all the threads are broken, this Universe will only turn into an infinitely large, infinitely cold, dark grave."

"To let everything truly start over, to let the singularity erupt once more."

The silhouette's featureless face was fixed directly on Zhou Wannian.

"Requires a force capable of pulling and squeezing this infinitely expanding tomb back into a single point."

"A force without any upper limit, capable of crushing the concepts of space and time... the Absolute Mass."

Hearing this, Zhou Wannian's hands, clasped behind his back, tightened involuntarily.

His knuckles turned pale from the exertion.

Inside his inner universe, those ninety-thousand-plus jade-like chains were emitting an uneasy trembling sound.

That absolute power he had tightly anchored within himself, at this very moment, upon hearing these words, actually produced a strange urge to break through his Divine Soul and expand infinitely outward.

It was as if an instinct that had been sleeping for millions of years had been awakened.

"Do you understand?"

The black silhouette looked at Zhou Wannian, its calm voice revealing a sense of despairing fatalism.

"You are the vessel for that power."

"You are not Zhou Wannian, the blacksmith in the Mortal World. You are merely the ultimate seed buried in the mundane mire. This Universe gave you infinite mass, letting you roam All Heavens and Myriad Worlds over the long ages, absorbing Karma. Your existence is not meant to save any broken cultivation world, nor is it meant to snap the abacus threads of the Truth Realm."

The silhouette took a step forward.

The black light dragged an afterimage across the Void Realm.

"Your destiny lies on the day this Universe completely approaches heat death."

"Unbind the chains suppressing the mass within you. Let your weight be released without reservation. Let that inward-collapsing gravity devour all galaxies, all dimensions, all ruins, and all dust."

"Crush and crumble everything you see, everything that is living and dead."

"Finally, collapse this broken Universe, along with yourself, back into that initial singularity."

At the end, the black silhouette's voice even carried a hint of fanatical trembling.

"You are the ultimate tomb that this Universe prepared for itself. You are also the only spark to gestate the next rebirth."

Dead silence.

A long and oppressive dead silence spread throughout this restricted backstage area.

Those transparent Law threads remained motionless in the void. That massive black whetstone was like a dead object.

Only these few words revealing the Universe's ultimate Origin continued to echo in Zhou Wannian's ears.

Creation and Creator are of the same root.

This cold, ruthless stone that grinds down the Laws of All Heavens is the left hand derived by the Universe in its quest for death.

And he, this scholar who claimed to be idle and drank sour wine in the Mortal World, was actually the right hand bred by the Universe to drag all living beings down with it for a fresh start.

The two of them were monsters of the same entity with two sides. One was a slow death like cutting flesh with a dull knife, the other a quick death like a hammer smashing the head.

Absurd.

Too absurd.

Zhou Wannian stood in place, his washed-out cyan cloth robe appearing somewhat desolate in the windless space.

He lowered his head, his gaze fixed on his own spotless cyan cloth shoes.

Millions of years of time seemed to turn into a huge joke at this moment.

He thought he was living according to his own heart, but he never expected that from the moment he put down the hammer in that leaky blacksmith shop, he had been following the script written by this aging Universe.

That power of his that could crush All Heavens was not something he had cultivated, but a pack of explosives forcefully stuffed into his belly by the heavens, just waiting for the countdown to end so he could be blown into powder along with this world.

"So what?"

Zhou Wannian slowly raised his head.

On his refined and handsome face, there were no tears of collapse from learning of this cruel destiny, nor were there any roars of madness.

The corners of his mouth even pulled up into a smile that was more relaxed and disdainful than ever before.

In those eyes, deep as an abyss, a cold fire without any temperature ignited.

"You ran out to tell me this long story just to tell me that I'm carrying a pack of explosives in my belly, and it's time to light the fuse?"

Zhou Wannian looked at the black silhouette, the air of a street ruffian in his tone pushed to the extreme at this moment.

"You are just a layer of skin peeled off this broken stone. You grind your knife, and I live my life. Let's keep our affairs separate. Now you jump out, point at my nose, and say we are family and should hold hands and jump off a cliff together."

He sneered and shook his head.

"This family reunion act might work on the stages of the Lower Realm. You're trying to fool me with it?"

The black silhouette looked at Zhou Wannian's face, which wore a sneer.

On its featureless face, a sense of helplessness and sorrow seemed to emerge.

"You shouldn't resist."

The silhouette's voice became somewhat heavy.

"Do you think you are doing a good deed by using those jade-like chains to lock your mass, by using this power to forcefully prop up this Universe that is about to collapse?"

The silhouette slowly raised both hands and waved them gently in the void in front of it.

Black light condensed in the air, forming huge and clear light-and-shadow images.

In those images were the tragedies truly happening in the vast sea of stars outside.

In the images.

A lower-tier world with depleted Spiritual Qi. Mountains cracked, rivers flowed backward. Those once high-and-mighty cultivation Sects unleashed horrific massacres to fight for the last weak Spiritual Vein. Cultivators with bloodshot eyes, like crazed beasts, smashed Magic Treasure into Mortal cities, using the blood and essence of Mortals to refine Medicinal Pills to extend their lives. The ground was covered with incomplete corpses, flies danced in the sea of blood, and tangible resentment circled above the cities.

The scene shifted.

It was the broken fleet of the Truth Realm. Those mechanical lifeforms, deprived of emotions, began to crazily cut into their own metal bodies after their logic circuits malfunctioned, attempting to dig out the half-withered human brain. They emitted shrill synthesized sounds in the cold vacuum, watching helplessly as their power cores extinguished, being frozen into scrap metal bit by bit by this ruthless Universe.

The scene shifted again.

It was the Qingping Realm. The living beings across the mountains and plains had turned into gray-white stone. Even though those few Death Qi tentacles were severed by Zhou Wannian, the trauma caused by the reversed Law could not be restored. The stone statues of women kneeling on the ground protecting their children still struggled to ooze scarlet blood from the cracks, every drop of blood revealing a desperate wail of being unable to live and unable to die.

The black silhouette displayed these horrific scenes one by one in front of Zhou Wannian.

"Do you see clearly?"

The silhouette's voice carried a cold rationality.

"This is the result of you forcefully maintaining this decaying shell. Do you think you are saving them?"

It pointed at the Cultivators fighting in the sea of blood, pointed at the bleeding stone statues.

"The Universe is already old. It no longer has excess nutrients to support these parasites. By using your mass to forcefully hold it back from disintegrating, you are just indefinitely dragging out its death process."

"In a desperate situation where resources are exhausted, life will unleash its ugliest and most vicious nature to survive. They will devour each other, they will torture themselves. Every breath they take while living is suffering thousands of times more painful than death."

The black silhouette walked toward Zhou Wannian, its footsteps making no sound in the void.

Its arms, made of black light, spread out on both sides of its body, like a preacher declaring the ultimate truth.

"Existence, in this rotting shell, has become an endless torture."

"Your soft heart, your stubbornness, not only goes against the original intention of our birth, but is also the cruelest torture for these living beings."

The silhouette stopped at a distance of three zhang from Zhou Wannian.

It looked at Zhou Wannian, its voice becoming incomparably bewitching, yet carrying a deep compassion.

"Give up the resistance, my brother."

"Everything returning to zero is the most perfect ultimate state of this Universe."

"No snatching of matter, no entanglement of Karma. In that absolute void and cold, all living beings, all pain, will find the most thorough rest."

"Unbind your chains. Let that mass be released. Let us together push down this leaky, broken house. Deep in the ruins, in that new singularity, there will be a clean, pain-free new world, reborn on some day in the future."

"This is our only salvation."

The bewitching voice echoed continuously in the backstage space.

Those bloody, despair-filled images flickered around Zhou Wannian.

This was the cruelest confrontation of hidden lines.

It was not a battle of blades, but a comprehensive disintegration of Zhou Wannian's return-to-truth Dao Heart, standing on the high ground of morality and cosmic Laws.

If living is more painful than dying, then why live forcefully?

If his persistence as the Creator only brings endless mutual slaughter and blood-weeping for all beings, then isn't this Absolute Mass of his that can crush All Heavens just a dull knife held against the throats of all living beings?

Zhou Wannian stood quietly amidst those flickering light-and-shadow images.

He watched those Cultivators who had become hideous due to fighting for Spiritual Qi, watching those stone statues bleeding in the mud.

His ears were filled with the black silhouette's compassionate bewitching voice.

The ninety-thousand-plus jade-like chains inside his body, at this moment, emitted an unprecedentedly violent vibration. It was not because they wanted to break free from the Seal, but because Zhou Wannian's heart was in turmoil.

That absolute power he had tightly anchored within himself began to leak outward uncontrollably.

Strands of heavy pressure caused fine cracks to appear in the surrounding Void Realm.

The black silhouette watched this scene. Although no expression could be seen on that featureless face, its standing posture revealed a sense of relief.

It knew that this seed was finally going to break its shell in the face of despair and truth.

"Yes, that's it. Let that power out. End this meaningless pain..."

The silhouette's voice became increasingly gentle.

Zhou Wannian lowered his head slightly, a few strands of hair falling down from his forehead, covering his deep eyes.

His hand slowly raised, reaching toward his own chest.

It seemed he wanted to touch the jade-like chains that were vibrating incessantly within his inner universe. He wanted to unbind the shackles that had plagued the Universe for countless epochs.

Just at the moment his fingers were about to touch the collar of his cyan robe.

Zhou Wannian's movement stopped.

His lowered head slowly raised.

The hair covering his eyes was blown to the sides by an invisible gale.

In those eyes, deep as an abyss, there was no fanaticism from being brainwashed, nor was there sorrow born from guilt.

There, there was only a sense of clarity, cold to the extreme and stubborn to the extreme.

"Everything you said is correct."

Zhou Wannian looked at the black silhouette, which was close at hand, his calm voice without the slightest tremor.

"This broken house is indeed rotten to the core. The people inside are indeed fighting until their heads bleed over a piece of dry food."

He put down the hand he had reached toward his chest, his long fingers gently rubbing against each other in the void.

"But you, this shadow that has been hiding in a stone and has never seen the sun, seem to have gotten one thing wrong."

The corners of Zhou Wannian's mouth curled up, that trace of street-level mockery reappearing on his refined face.

"I said just now, I am not some damn seed of this Universe. I am also not some ultimate weapon in your set of rotten rules."

He strode forward, facing those horrific light-and-shadow images, facing that bewitching black silhouette, and forcefully took a big step forward.

"Bang!"

With this step, an overbearing and unparalleled Absolute Mass directly shattered those light-and-shadow images floating in mid-air, causing them to dissipate into streams of light filling the sky.

"I have spent time in the Mortal World of the Lower Realm. I have seen Mortals cursing in the streets over a few coppers, and I have seen those Cultivators killing and robbing to snatch a Spiritual Plant."

Zhou Wannian pointed at that massive black whetstone.

"This world is indeed bitter, indeed dirty."

"But in those muddy alleys, I have also seen a blind old man in the spring rain, getting up early to brew a pot of hot tea just to make a living. I have also eaten the fennel beans cooked with inferior yellow wine by the Old Shopkeeper in that broken tavern."

Zhou Wannian looked directly at the black silhouette's featureless face.

"The tea was very astringent, and the beans were a bit salty."

"But that is the taste that only living people have."

His washed-out cyan cloth robe exploded violently in the invisible gale. The phantoms of ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine jade-like chains appeared behind him with a boom, like a huge web of white jade light, firmly suppressing this backstage space.

"You want to talk to me about perfection? About returning to zero?"

Zhou Wannian sneered aloud.

"Perfection is something only dead people need."

"As long as this broken house still has one tile to keep out the rain, as long as the people inside can still drink a cup of sour wine, I will never let it collapse."

He clenched his right fist tightly.

That point of extreme density, this time, carried his stubbornness and anger that would never compromise, rotating and collapsing crazily on his fist.

"The heavens stuffed this strength into me, wanting me to be the hammer to tear down the house."

Zhou Wannian raised his right fist, aiming it at the black silhouette generated by his own mass mixed with the concept of "Nothingness".

"Then I will use this hammer to first smash you bugs hiding in the backstage scheming against the living, one by one, into meat paste!"

There was no fancy probing.

Carrying the worldly aura of human life, carrying disdain for those rigid rules.

Zhou Wannian's right fist, carrying the Absolute Mass, smashed solidly toward the "himself" in front that was trying to bewitch his heart.