12dz Chapter 120 Quicksand Black Prison
Chapter 120 Quicksand Black Prison
After the figure in front of the door raised its head, Tang Sanzang frowned first.
Unlike Sha Wujing.
At least, it's not like the one they remember.
The man wore a grayish official robe, the hem of which dragged on the sand, covered in black grime. The crescent-shaped shovel in his hand was not a weapon, but more like a large writing brush, its blade engraved with densely packed small characters. His face was so thin it looked as if it had been carved by a knife, and a cracked bronze mirror sat on his nose.
He glanced at Tang Sanzang and gave an awkward, inappropriate bow.
"The Black Sand Prison, the Curtain-Rolling Supervisor, has seen the original number of the Journey to the West project: Tang Sanzang."
Tang Sanzang's face darkened.
"This humble monk has come to escort you."
The scribe seemed not to hear, and instead pulled a black book from his sleeve, flipping through it with a rustling sound.
"Bringing people is allowed. First, verify their identities, then they must confess, and then you can get a number."
Pigsy grinned.
"Who the hell do you think you are, to dare ask Master to confess his sins?"
The scribe raised his eyelids slightly, his voice dry and monotone.
"These are the rules of this place, and I wrote them down."
"If you're not satisfied, you can go in first."
"There are still a few empty pig pens in the black jail."
Pigsy's face darkened instantly, and he even raised his rake.
Sun Wukong was even more decisive; he held his golden cudgel horizontally and took half a step forward.
"Enough with the nonsense, where's Sha Wujing?"
The scribe looked at him and suddenly smiled.
That smile was as thin as scraped-off paper dust.
Which one are you asking about?
One sentence stumped several people.
The white dragon horse's eyes turned cold, and it slightly raised its spear.
Chen Fan didn't move, only staring at the black book in the man's hand.
Something's not right here.
There was no wind inside, yet the sand kept flowing. Dozens of iron plaques hung from the lintel, clanging softly against each other. Each plaque was engraved with the character "卷" (juan, meaning roll/scroll). It was as if someone had disassembled a person and hung them here to dry.
Suppressing his anger, Tang Sanzang took a step forward.
"This humble monk has only one disciple, whose Dharma name is Wujing."
After listening, the scribe actually nodded seriously.
"Wu Jingyou."
"Roller blinds are also available."
"The quicksand will also be there."
"Someone broke a glass cup."
"There are also those who live by swallowing the filth of Buddhism."
"There are also those who take the blame for the Heavenly Court."
As he spoke, he raised his hand and pointed behind the door.
"The real Sha Wujing (Sandy) was dismantled long ago."
"They were divided into dozens of service persons, imprisoned separately, and made to work in shifts."
"Whoever commits what crime, whoever needs to borrow which portion of Sha Wujing's character, just bring out that portion."
The air suddenly felt heavy.
Zhu Ganglie opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a curse for a long time.
The white dragon horse's eyelids twitched as well.
Even Sun Wukong didn't speak immediately; he gripped his staff even tighter.
Tang Sanzang's fingers pressed down on the prayer beads, making them click one by one.
"Who demolished it?"
The scribe flipped through the black book without looking up.
"It was approved by the higher-ups."
"I only copy."
"If you want to hold someone accountable, you need to get a number first."
That's so infuriating.
Pigsy was so angry his nose was crooked, and he grabbed his rake, ready to charge.
The next instant, with a "clatter," two chains slid down from either side of the black door. Hanging from the chains were more than a dozen human faces, each resembling Sha Wujing (Sandy). Some were crying, some were laughing, and some had their mouths open with their tongues sticking out.
Pigsy abruptly stopped.
That's not an illusion.
It was actually made by taking a human face print.
"Holy crap."
He cursed, and a chill ran down his spine.
The scribe adjusted his bronze mirror, his expression as calm as if he were reporting an account.
"Those who resort to violence, add one more charge."
"Trespassing. Prison disturbance. File destruction. Theft of a person's service membership."
"With enough charges, I can at least get priority entry."
Chen Fan finally spoke.
Get to the point.
"How do I pick someone up?"
The scribe finally turned his attention to him.
His eyes darted around twice, as if he were looking at a file that could jump around on its own.
"You are Chen Fan."
"Current owner of the 'Immoral System'".
"Interface malfunction".
"Pollution items to be investigated."
Tang Sanzang and the others all looked at him.
Sun Wukong's eyes were practically blazing with fury.
"Does this guy know you?"
Chen Fan remained unfazed.
"I have plenty of people who know me, so one more won't make a difference."
The transcriber's lips twitched slightly.
"If you want to take Sha Wujing away, that's fine too."
"According to the rules, first admit to one charge."
"It doesn't matter whose it is."
"By accepting it, you can take away a portion of your personality."
Tang Sanzang stared at him.
"What do you mean?"
The scribe shook the black book, and a dozen pages opened by themselves, revealing lines of black characters that looked like worms crawling on the page.
"The meaning is very simple."
"If you want to save people, you must first acknowledge one thing."
"The sins that Sha Wujing committed must be taken by someone else."
"If you admit to breaking the glass lamp, then take Chung-shun's share with you."
"If you believe that quicksand devours people, then take away the ferocity with you."
"If you agree to silence the Buddhist community, then take with you the part of silence."
The more thoroughly you understand, the more completely you grasp the essence.
"If you want to take the original personality with you—"
He paused for a moment, glanced at the crowd, and a hint of mockery appeared on his lips.
"One of you, memorize all the dirty things he did in his life."
No sooner had he finished speaking than Pigsy exploded.
"Bullshit!"
"You're the ones who tore people apart, and you're making us take the blame?"
The scribe said calmly, "This is procedure."
Sun Wukong sneered.
"program?"
"Old Sun is going to smash your program today."
He raised his staff, and just as its shadow pressed against the door, the black book in the scribe's hand suddenly gleamed. Simultaneously, all the rivets on the door opened, revealing countless tiny eyes staring intently at the golden cudgel.
The next moment, the entire black door emitted a muffled thud.
Sun Wukong's blow was like hitting mud; most of its force was absorbed.
The scribe took a half step back, his robes remaining perfectly straight.
"Here, sins are recorded, but merits are not."
The stronger you are, the heavier the pressure.
Sun Wukong's face grew even colder, and the veins on the back of his hands bulged out.
Chen Fan grabbed him and pressed him down.
Don't waste your energy.
He has figured it out.
This place is different from the outside world.
It's a prison vault purely for managing files and cutting off personalities. Fighting won't necessarily break through directly. Forcing your way in will only allow the enemy to slice Sha Wujing into even more pieces.
Tang Sanzang also spoke up.
"Wukong, stop first."
Sun Wukong gritted his teeth, but still put away his staff.
Upon seeing this, the scribe's tone became more sarcastic.
"It was the original Jin Chanzi who knew what was good for him."
"Are you going to plead guilty?"
"If you mistakenly believe in a religious person, you can also receive a share."
Tang Sanzang looked up at him, his gaze direct.
"This humble monk will not keep accounts for you."
"I won't even clean your accounts."
The scribe gently patted the black book.
"Then there's no solution."
"The Dark Prison of Quicksand only recognizes guilt, not kinship."
Pigsy was so anxious he kept scratching his head.
"Old Chen, what do we do? We can't just admit it, can we?"
The white dragon horse also lowered its voice.
"Accepting it is like completing the formalities for the higher-ups."
"Don't jump into this pit."
Chen Fan stared at the black book, his palm slightly warm.
Unethical administrator privileges.
Since this thing can be included in the recall, it can't just be a decoration.
The scribe in front of me is, to put it bluntly, just a file hog.
The black book in his hand is the entrance.
Thinking of this, Chen Fan suddenly smiled.
The scribe frowned.
"What are you laughing at?"
Chen Fan took two steps forward and stood by the threshold.
"I'm laughing at your bad luck."
"I've met a professional today."
The scribe's face darkened.
"What do you mean?"
Chen Fan didn't reply, but instead looked down at his palm. The gray patterns on the True Core gradually lit up, as if someone had connected him from behind. The semi-transparent panel in his mind popped up again, this time without the blood red, only a short line of words.
[Criminal evidence database interface detected]
[Whether to take over sub-permissions]
Chen Fan's heart skipped a beat.
catch.
The next instant, the black book before him was no longer a booklet, but a jumble of disordered label pages. Each page was numbered, with annotations following it. Things like "Seventh Service Personality, Silent Type," "Third Combat Personality, Wrathful Type," and "Backup Scapegoat Personality, Compliant Type."
Chen Fan almost laughed out of anger.
They really treated Sha Wujing like a consumable item, dismantling him instead.
The scribe was still coldly watching him.
"Have you stopped playing the ghost story?"
"If you don't agree, then back out."
Chen Fan flicked his finger lightly.
"Screw you."
The next moment, the black book in the scribe's hand trembled violently, and dozens of pages flew off at the same time. The originally neat black characters on it were all messed up, like a swarm of frightened ants scurrying about in all directions.
The scribe's expression finally changed.
"What did you do?!"
Chen Fan shoved it directly into his face.
"Check the database."
"Also, change the permissions."
"You, a mere copyist, actually think you're the repository owner?"
The scribe hurriedly formed a seal with both hands, trying to press down the black book.
But the booklet wouldn't listen to him at all; instead, it flipped to the last page with a "snap," revealing a deeply hidden gray mark.
There are only four small characters on it.
Managed the transcription.
Pigsy burst out laughing upon seeing this.
"Hahaha, so you're just a menial worker after all!"
Sun Wukong narrowed his eyes, his anger turning into a fierce laugh.
"A mere gatekeeper and book copyist dares to put on airs with Old Sun."
The white dragon horse raised its spear tip, aiming straight for the scribe's throat.
"Hand over the primary personality file."
The scribe's forehead was already beaded with sweat, yet he remained stubborn.
"Your tampering with the files is a serious crime!"
Chen Fan didn't waste any words with him and continued scrolling down the page.
One page.
Ten pages.
Thirty pages.
The further you go, the darker the content becomes.
Sha Wujing was not simply banished to the mortal realm for committing a crime.
While he was in Heaven, he was used for testing. After falling into the Flowing Sand River, Buddhism took over again. The so-called Sha Wujing was not a whole person at all, but was repeatedly disassembled and reassembled, until only the most obedient and useful version was left to be sent on the journey to the West.
The more Chen Fan looked, the colder his face became.
Tang Sanzang, who was standing nearby, also saw a few lines of text, and one of his prayer beads broke off on the spot.
"brute."
These two words, coming from his mouth, carried even more weight.
Seeing that he couldn't suppress it, the scribe suddenly stepped back and raised his hand to slap the door.
"Seal the warehouse!"
"Activate the hidden archive in the dark -"
Before he could finish speaking, Sun Wukong had already arrived.
With a single sweep of the stick, he was smashed into the goalpost.
"Bang!"
The scribe's chest slumped down, and he spat out a mouthful of black sand, causing the bronze mirror to fly away.
Pigsy rushed forward and swung his rake, nailing the black book to the ground.
"Try ordering one more!"
The little eyes that had been hovering around the door were now darting around nervously. It was as if they were a group of people used to the rules, and this was the first time they'd ever seen someone dare to hit the manager right at the warehouse entrance.
From deep within the black gate, the sound of chains dragging on the ground suddenly came.
A sound.
Two sounds.
Getting closer.
The scribe lay on the ground, trying to crawl, his mouth trembling.
"You're finished..."
"You can touch me, but don't touch my back seat..."
Chen Fan had already scrolled down to the bottom layer using the access permissions.
There are no words on the bottom layer.
There was only a black, blank space.
In the middle of the blank space, a name is locked.
Sha Wujing.
The name is followed by neither a volume number nor a personality number.
It consists of three characters.
Main lock.
Chen Fan's eyes sharpened, and he was about to continue dismantling when Zong Wu, who had been silent all along, suddenly pulled out the Questioning Stone.
This thing was taken from Guanyin's interface earlier, but it hasn't been of much use yet. Zongwu didn't say much, and raised his hand to shine it on the scribe.
"You bastard, let me see what you're hiding behind your back."
The stone gleamed, and a swirl of gray light swept across it.
The scribe looked as if a layer of skin had been peeled off, revealing his back.
The next moment, everyone saw it.
The scribe's back was not made of human flesh and blood.
It was a row of densely packed iron hooks.
In the very center of the iron hook, a thick chain was locked.
The chain ends not inside the door.
It's inside his body.
A half-kneeling figure was wrapped in the chain, with disheveled hair, broad shoulders and a thick back, and an old Buddhist ring around its neck.
The man suddenly raised his head.
Although it was only for a fleeting moment.
Tang Sanzang recognized him immediately, and his voice changed on the spot.
"Wujing!"
The color drained from the scribe's face instantly, and he desperately tried to shrink back into the doorway.
"Close the stone! Close the stone quickly!"
But it was too late.
The gray light from the stone was still shining.
The chain then made a "click" sound.
It was as if something was trying to forcefully break out of the scribe's body.
Chapter 216 Tianpeng's Abandoned Warehouse
Crimson lightning was still leaping wildly across the sky.
The gate to the abandoned warehouse is now open.
A smell wafted out from under the door.
It doesn't smell like blood.
It's the musty aroma of aged grains that have gone damp, mixed with lard, wine lees, and the burnt smell of hot iron sheets.
Sun Wukong wrinkled his nose, picked up his golden cudgel, and walked inside.
Yang Jian followed behind, his brows furrowed low.
"hurry up."
"This is not an ordinary warehouse."
"All the obsolete templates of the Tianpeng faction are piled up here."
Sun Wukong turned his head to look at him.
Speak like a human.
Yang Jian raised his hand and pointed.
The view ahead suddenly opened up.
The entire abandoned warehouse resembled a hollowed-out cauldron, with tiered iron racks on all four sides. The racks were covered with old armor, broken helmets, and tattered talismans. The most eye-catching items were rows of pig-bodied armor, varying in size and build, some with split bellies, some with broken tusks, and some with numbered tags stuck in their foreheads.
"Tent template".
Yang Jian said coldly.
"The mass production plan that Buddhism and Heavenly Court worked on together back then."
"If the true Heavenly General loses control, dismantle his soul, break him into pieces, and reforge him."
"Just stuff it into whichever one is convenient."
Sun Wukong stopped in his tracks, his eyes blazing with fury.
"Are you treating people like pigs?"
Yang Jian looked at the old armor, his voice growing even deeper.
"They're not raising us like pigs."
"It's used as a spare part."
The voice just fell.
There was a loud "bang" in front.
It looked like a large bucket being smashed on the ground.
Sun Wukong flashed and had already passed the two rows of iron frames.
At the corner, a dim, yellowish fairy lamp hung askew on the beam. Under the lamp squatted a fat man. The fat man had bare upper arms, a tattered old cloth belt tied around his waist, and he was tightly clutching a fairy food bucket that was half his height. His head was almost buried in the bucket as he ate with loud slurping.
There were already seven or eight empty buckets piled up next to it.
The bottom of the bucket was scraped clean, even the crumbs were removed.
Sun Wukong stopped.
"Hey."
"Your mouth is certainly busy."
The fat man looked up, his face covered in rice crumbs and oil dripping from the corners of his mouth. He glanced at Sun Wukong, then at Yang Jian, his cheeks bulging, and forced himself to swallow what was in his mouth.
"Warehouse manager."
"Newcomers, don't touch anything."
"The left side is a damaged nail, the right side is a ruined mold, and the middle is my gluttony."
After he finished speaking, he bent down and started digging again.
The way they ate was as if they hadn't eaten for eight hundred years.
Sun Wukong grinned.
"The warehouse manager?"
"Even with Heaven in such a state of disrepair, how can the warehouse manager still eat so heartily?"
The fat man mumbled, "Man is made of iron, food is made of steel."
"Even in death, I'll be a well-fed ghost."
Yang Jian has already opened his third eye.
A ray of divine light fell upon the fat man.
The next moment, his eyes narrowed sharply.
The fat man's body was flabby, and his energy was as chaotic as a pot of boiling porridge. But beneath that layer of shiny skin and flesh, a wisp of his main soul was pressing down on him. The main soul was large, with numerous cracks, and more than a dozen thin threads wrapped around it, as if it had been dismantled and then forcibly pieced back together.
Sun Wukong also figured it out.
He stared at the fat man and chuckled.
"Old pig."
"They're quite good at pretending."
The fat man's hand trembled, and the bucket in his arms almost tipped over.
"Who's the old pig?"
My surname is Zhu.
"Zhu Cang".
"The warehouse."
Sun Wukong tapped the ground with his staff.
"Your mind is in such a state of confusion that it's about to fall apart."
"You still dare to call yourself a warehouse manager?"
"Do you really think I, Old Sun, am blind?"
The fat man blinked, his face first blank, then aggrieved.
"Is it my fault that your mind is in turmoil?"
"This lousy place keeps changing templates every few days. Who wouldn't get restless if they stayed here long enough?"
"I'm just a handyman."
"I usually keep an eye on the useless armor, watch the rats, and eat some leftover scraps of food."
"You've got the wrong person."
As he spoke, he dragged the bucket of immortal food behind him.
The movement was very fast.
Like someone afraid someone will steal their food.
Sun Wukong looked at him and suddenly laughed even more strangely.
"Your hand..."
"Holding the bucket is like holding a weapon."
"My wrist isn't ruined."
"His shoulder isn't damaged either."
"Eat like a pig, hide like a thief."
"If you're not Tianpeng, then who is?"
The fat man's face twitched, and he was about to continue his sophistry.
Suddenly, a piercing copper bell rang out from deep within the abandoned warehouse.
Ding ding ding.
Nine shots in a row.
Red patterns lit up on the surrounding iron frames at the same time.
Many of the old armors began to tremble, as if someone had pumped air into them. Chains hung from the sky, their ends tipped with black iron hooks, sweeping straight towards them.
Yang Jian's face darkened.
"The pursuers are here."
"Abandoned warehouses guarded by furnace protectors."
The fat man, who was still holding the bucket, shrank back suddenly upon hearing this.
He was still muttering to himself.
"Don't look for me, don't look for me, it's not my shift today..."
next interest.
Three squads of black-armored guards had already rushed out from the end of the passage.
The leader wore a pig-headed bronze helmet and held a blue talisman in his hand. He raised his hand and drank.
"Item No. 793, abnormally activated, recall immediately!"
"Kill all outsiders!"
Dozens of Soul-Locking Spears came crashing down at once.
Sun Wukong was about to make a move.
The fat man squatting on the ground suddenly put the bucket of immortal food aside.
The bucket hadn't even settled properly yet.
A nine-toothed rake had already flown out from behind the iron frame.
With a "clang," it fell directly into his hand.
In that instant, he became a completely different person.
My waist is still fat.
Her belly was also swollen.
But those narrowed eyes suddenly lit up.
Like an old, ferocious beast that has slept for too long, it finally opened its eyelids.
"You're disturbing my meal."
He cursed.
next moment.
The rake swept horizontally.
The first squad of furnace guards, men and guns alike, flew out in perfect unison, smashing through three rows of iron frames. Shattered armor and talisman plates rained down, burying the ground.
The rest of the people were stunned.
The leader of the black-armored guards nearly had his eyes pop out.
"Nine teeth..."
"How can you still use a nine-toothed rake!"
The fat man stood up and scratched his belly.
"This thing doesn't recognize an owner."
"Whoever finds it keeps it."
No sooner had he finished speaking than a dozen chains appeared on the other side.
The fat man, still chewing the rice he hadn't finished swallowing, yanked the rake with his left hand, kicked forward with his right foot, and crashed into it like a giant meatball.
Looks clumsy.
It crashed out at a frightening speed.
A series of muffled thuds.
The chains broke completely.
Sparks were still flying from the broken surface.
He swept the dozen or so furnace guards away one by one, sending them sprawling and staggering. Some even had their chest armor plates dented, sliding along the ground for dozens of feet before their heads hit the wall and they came to a stop.
Sun Wukong found it amusing.
"Haha, you may be stubborn, but your hands tell a different story."
The fat man took a couple of breaths, then quickly bent down, grabbed a handful of the divine food from the ground, and stuffed it into his mouth.
He chewed while muttering to himself.
"Fighting takes a lot of effort."
"We have to make up for it."
The few furnace guards who weren't quite dead yet froze when they saw this scene.
They had been chasing him for so long, always thinking that this fat guy was just a stray piece of an old mold that had slipped through the net, and that he usually did nothing but steal food or play dead.
Who would have thought that this guy would still have the same taste when he wields a rake?
It's the same old approach.
The leader of the black-armored guards struggled to his feet against the wall, his voice cracking.
"impossible!"
"The main soul has clearly been dismantled five times!"
"The names have all been deleted from the archives!"
"You should have been crippled long ago!"
The fat man paused his chewing when he heard the word "name".
For the first time, a crack appeared on his nonchalant expression.
The next moment it was pushed back down.
"none of your business."
Sun Wukong, who was watching the show, also darkened his expression upon hearing this.
Yang Jian had already walked to the main furnace where the red patterns were lit.
He raised his hand and pressed down, and the runes on the furnace wall instantly revealed the internal structure.
After glancing at it, he immediately turned his head away.
"There's no time."
"The combined furnace operation of the abandoned warehouse has been started."
"All the elimination templates, including this fat man's main soul, will be included."
Sun Wukong turned his head.
"What will happen if I put it in?"
Yang Jian's voice was cold.
"Completely dismantle."
"Then remanufacture in batches according to the template."
"By then, Tianpeng will no longer be called Tianpeng; it will just be a mass-produced item."
A piece of the immortal food in the fat man's hand fell with a thud.
He glanced down at it but didn't pick it up.
The surrounding metal frames began to move.
Click, click, click.
Like gears meshing together.
Three giant locks descended from above, directly above the fat man's head.
A deeper rumble came from afar.
The main furnace is preheating.
The pig-bodied armor hanging on the shelves also began to open their eyes like red lights.
Densely packed.
It looks like the scalp is numb.
Sun Wukong held his golden cudgel horizontally, his smile already tinged with rage.
"Okay."
"They dismantle the original and then try to remake and sell it immediately."
"These bastards are even more despicable than I was when I caused havoc in the Heavenly Palace."
Yang Jian said coldly, "There are at least three hundred activation templates here."
"The hearth guard is just the appetizer."
"If you wait any longer, the main furnace will lock your soul directly."
Sun Wukong twisted his neck.
"Then smash it."
"First, lift the pot off the stove."
The fat man looked up at him, as if he wanted to say something.
He opened his mouth halfway, then swallowed it back down.
He bent down, grabbed the bucket of immortal food, and gulped down two mouthfuls, his cheeks bulging out. He looked both comical and pathetic.
Sun Wukong couldn't help but curse.
"Are you still eating?"
The fat man muttered, "I have no energy if I don't eat."
"My body was pieced together from scrap parts."
"They get hungry quickly, and they also lose weight quickly."
As he spoke, he raised his hand and patted his belly.
The belly emitted a muffled thud, like a hollow drum.
After listening, Yang Jian's gaze lingered on his abdomen for a moment.
Something was definitely wrong there.
It felt like there were three different templates stuffed under the skin, with the vital energy pressing against each other, ready to collapse at any moment.
"You won't last long."
Yang Jian said.
"Once the furnace is opened, you won't even be able to escape."
The fat man licked the rice crumbs from the corner of his mouth, and his eyes finally stopped darting away.
He looked at Sun Wukong and suddenly smiled.
That smile wasn't unattractive.
It's a bit bitter.
"monkey."
Sun Wukong squinted.
"Um?"
The fat man slammed the food bucket on the ground, used his rake as a support, and straightened up a bit.
The surrounding red light pressed down layer by layer.
The activated pig-bodied armors have begun to jump down.
boom.
boom.
boom.
One body after another.
The fat man acted as if he didn't see anything, his eyes fixed on Sun Wukong.
His Adam's apple bobbed.
"Help me get my name back first."
"After I finish this meal, I'm going to go and give them a good beating."
Chapter 217 Stealing a Name
"Stealing names?"
Sun Wukong held his golden cudgel horizontally and looked up into the depths of the abandoned warehouse.
"You fatso, you sure have a lot of trouble."
The fat man leaned on his rake, his mouth still covered in bits of immortal food, panting like a broken bellows.
Do you think I want this?
"I've tried it before over the years."
"Every time we got close to the door, they would push us back into the abandoned warehouse."
As he spoke, he raised his finger and pointed to his forehead.
There was a very shallow scorch mark there.
Like something that was posted before, but was later forcibly torn off.
"They withheld the title of 'Marshal Tianpeng' from the general treasury."
"No, I'm just a warehouse rat."
"Eating more will only fill the shell."
"The main soul is the main soul, and the physical body is the physical body; they can never be put back together."
Upon hearing this, Yang Jian frowned.
"A name is more than just a title."
"It is the main index of the template database."
"By removing your title, we're essentially locking out your access to your true identity."
The celestial dog bared its teeth.
"No wonder this fat guy smells like he's half-cooked."
The fat man glared at it.
"You bastard, wait until I'm settled, you'll be the first one I kick."
The Celestial Hound immediately shrank back to Yang Jian's legs.
"Master, look, he's already so arrogant even though he's not fully recovered."
Sun Wukong was too lazy to listen to their arguing and simply strode forward.
"Where is the main warehouse?"
The fat man swallowed hard and pointed to the back of the abandoned warehouse.
Where the red light was strongest, stood a black wall.
The walls are covered with cabinets.
Each compartment has a brass plaque hanging on it.
The top part is all old names.
Some are shiny, some are gray.
The top layer was still secured with a thick chain.
Behind the chain, a large gate can be vaguely seen.
Two characters are crookedly carved on the door frame.
Main warehouse.
Sun Wukong glanced at it and grinned.
"this one?"
"I've tried to steal peaches of immortality and dismantle alchemy furnaces, but I've never tried to steal a name."
Chen Fan stood behind, his eyelids twitching.
"Stop dawdling, hurry up."
"This place is a template wasteland. If left unattended for too long, it will automatically refresh the guards."
He had barely finished speaking.
A clicking sound came from in front of the black wall.
The rows of armored boars all raised their heads at the same time.
A red flame lit up in the empty eye socket.
The ground shook.
Dozens of pig-shaped armored suits fell simultaneously, kicking up a cloud of dust.
The leader was exceptionally tall, with an iron plaque nailed to his chest.
There are three words written on it.
Abandon the warehouse and guard it.
It looked down at the fat man, its voice like a piece of iron scraping the bottom of a pot.
"Incomplete template, access to the main database is prohibited."
"Pigsy No. 7, return to your original position."
The fat man's face immediately darkened.
"Seven your grandpa."
"My surname is Zhu, and my given name is..."
He got stuck.
The second half is empty.
Even he himself was stunned.
The guards around immediately laughed.
The laughter was dry and lifeless, like a pile of old logs colliding with each other.
"See that?"
"He can't even say his own name properly, yet he dares to steal the title."
"Scrap warehouse goods are just scrap warehouse goods."
"You should just stay obediently by the trough."
The fat man gritted his teeth, bending the rake slightly under the weight.
Sun Wukong glanced at him sideways, the playful glint in his eyes vanishing.
"Alright."
"I'll get the name back for you in a bit."
"Anyone who tries to stop them will die."
The last two words fell.
The golden cudgel had already been swung out.
boom!
The moment the first wrecked Kuramae raised his sword, his head flew off.
A burst of red light erupted, and shattered armor fragments scattered across the ground.
The remaining guards rushed forward.
Without wasting words, Yang Jian brandished his three-pointed double-edged sword and cut directly into the middle lane.
The blade flashed horizontally.
The three guards were cut in half at the waist.
The Celestial Hound was even more ruthless. It pounced and bit the neck of a suit of armor, pulling three times until it ripped the entire head off.
The fat man's eyelids twitched as he watched.
"You two really don't follow the rules."
Sun Wukong swept down seven or eight people with one blow, then turned around and cursed him.
"You expect rules when you're stealing?"
"Did you go crazy from eating pig swill in that abandoned warehouse?"
Upon hearing this, the fat man grinned.
He picked up the bucket of divine food from the ground and gulped it down into his mouth.
They ate as they rushed forward.
A guard raised an axe and chopped him down.
The fat man didn't dodge; he took the hit head-on.
With a "clang".
The axe blade only cut in half an inch.
The fat man was also stunned for a moment, then looked down and touched his shoulder.
The skin wasn't cracked.
The meat only dented in one spot, but it swelled up again in the blink of an eye.
"Hey."
"It's really been fixed."
The next second, he swung his rake back and smashed it.
The guard's breastplate collapsed completely.
It flew backward, crashed into the cabinet wall, and smashed three nameplates.
Chen Fan could see it clearly from behind.
The fat man's main soul is gradually consuming his physical body.
That last strike already showed the foundation of Tianpeng's true form.
"Keep eating!"
Chen Fan called out.
"Keep attacking and replenishing, don't stop!"
The fat man didn't stand on ceremony; he grabbed a handful of immortal food and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing it with a loud crunching sound.
The more he ate, the firmer his fat became.
My belly is still the same belly.
But the shoulders and back started to support the weight.
The neck no longer shrinks.
His arms felt like they were filled with iron.
He swung the rake down with three times more force than before.
The guards, who had been staring at him and laughing, could no longer laugh.
"Stop him!"
"Incomplete templates must not be allowed near the primary index!"
"Send out your name lock chain quickly!"
Before he could finish speaking...
A black chain burst out from behind the main warehouse door.
The chain head was full of hooks, aimed straight at the fat man's forehead.
Yang Jian raised his hand and slashed.
The blade struck the black chain, sending sparks flying.
They only managed to cut two of them.
The remaining few blades grazed the edge of the knife and were about to pierce the fat man's forehead.
Sun Wukong flipped over and landed in front of the fat man.
The golden cudgel blocked the way.
Snapped!
The black chain straightened immediately.
Sun Wukong's arm sank, and two cracks appeared in the floor tiles beneath his feet.
He grinned.
"It's quite heavy."
A cold snort came from deep within the main warehouse.
"The Great Sage Equal to Heaven"
"This is not a place for you to run wild."
"The roster shall be kept under the management of the warehouse and shall not be moved by outsiders."
"Trespassers will be archived and destroyed."
The voice sounded like an old man's, and it was very cold.
Sun Wukong hates people who put on airs.
"It belongs to your maternal grandmother."
He exerted his strength and pulled the black chain forward.
The main warehouse gate shook violently.
The person behind the door clearly hadn't expected him to be this tough, and his breathing faltered.
Yang Jian seized the moment and opened his divine eye on his forehead.
A beam of white light pierced the door lock.
click!
The door lock is cracked.
The black door bounced open half a foot.
A row of tall cabinets was visible inside.
The counter was covered with signs.
Each sign was covered in a gray sheen.
The highest compartment in the middle has a gold-rimmed iron plaque on top.
The two characters on the sign were extremely bright.
Tianpeng.
The fat man's breathing became erratic after just one glance.
His eyes turned red, and he involuntarily rushed forward.
"mine."
The old man guarding the vault finally showed up.
He was a gaunt Taoist official, wearing an old robe, with a face as red as pickled vegetables and a very pointed mouth.
He stood in front of the counter and waved his hand.
The entire warehouse lights up simultaneously.
Countless signs flew out from all around, turning into streaks of shadow.
There were humanoids, animaloids, and large numbers of armored Tianhe veterans.
They all rushed towards the group.
"Abandoned warehouse assets must not be lost."
"Pigsy No. 7, return to your position immediately."
"Going a step further, erase the remnant soul."
The fat man paused for half a step.
That's not fear.
It was the old scorch mark on my forehead that started to get hot.
It was as if a hand was pressing him back.
Chen Fan, seeing this, was anxious and shouted directly.
"Pigsy!"
"You've come this far, why are you afraid of a warehouse manager?"
"They've already taken your name, and you're still going to back out?"
This sentence pierced through me like a needle.
The fat man suddenly looked up, his face trembling.
"right."
"Even its name is gone."
"What kind of refund would I give you!"
With a roar, he swung the rake in a circular motion and smashed it down.
boom!
He smashed the three figures in front of him on the spot.
With a "sizzle," a section of the scorch mark on his forehead burst open.
Sun Wukong laughed loudly.
"That's more like it!"
He charged straight into the shadows, his golden cudgel swirling in a golden gust of wind.
Everything that gets hit explodes.
Yang Jian was even more decisive, and killed the old Taoist priest as soon as he saw him.
The old man guarding the vault screamed as he retreated.
"Stop them!"
"Quickly, request the chief warehouse clerk to make the record!"
"Anyone who dares to touch the main nameplate will—"
He didn't finish his sentence.
Yang Jian has arrived.
A knife.
Very straightforward.
No variety.
The old Taoist priest hurriedly raised his abacus to block it.
click.
The abacus was broken in the middle.
The blade sliced down his shoulder, cleaving him in two.
Before its two pieces even hit the ground, they turned into ashes.
The surrounding guards were completely dumbfounded.
"The warehouse...the warehouse official is dead?"
"You really dare to kill?"
"They're insane!"
Sun Wukong stepped on a guard's head and pointed his staff at the counter.
"Erlang, open the cabinet!"
"it is good."
Yang Jian turned his blade and slashed directly at the register cabinet.
This strike was even more ruthless than the previous one.
The entire wall of cabinets cracked open with a "bang".
Wood chips and metal scraps flew everywhere.
The gold-rimmed iron plaque in the middle was shaken and jumped out, spinning half a circle in mid-air.
The fat man instinctively reached out.
I didn't catch it.
Sun Wukong had already caught it first.
He landed back in front of the fat man and weighed the sign in his hand.
"Marshal Tianpeng".
"It's quite heavy."
The fat man's lips moved, but he didn't say anything for a moment.
Sun Wukong snorted when he saw his expression.
"Useless."
After saying that, he raised his hand and slapped the name tag onto the fat man's forehead.
Snapped!
Like a branding iron being used on flesh.
The fat man was startled.
The old scorch mark on his forehead burst open on the spot.
A ring of golden light shot down from the top of my head to my feet.
First, memorize it.
Next, the shoulder.
Then comes the whole face.
His honest, chubby appearance looked as if someone had squeezed his cheeks hard, and his features began to change.
Its fangs protruded from its mouth.
The nose is more arched.
But his eyes were no longer clouded.
On the contrary, it was frighteningly bright.
The fat on her body hasn't decreased, but her frame has straightened out.
A layer of old armor bulged out from under the skin and was snapped onto the shoulders.
The rake also vibrated.
The original nine-toothed rake suddenly lengthened, gleaming coldly.
The remaining guards all retreated.
Two of them even knelt down.
"The Lord's name returns to its rightful place..."
"The true form has stabilized..."
"Pig... no, the canopy template has been restored!"
Fatty, no, he should be called Pigsy now.
He slowly raised his hand and touched his forehead.
That nameplate has already been incorporated into it.
He closed his eyes.
When he opened his eyes again, his entire demeanor had changed.
He was no longer the fat man panting and eating in the abandoned warehouse.
The aura of the former commander of Tianhe finally resurfaced on him.
Sun Wukong looked him up and down and grinned.
"Okay, at least you're acting like a human being now."
Zhu Ganglie looked down at his hands and clenched his fists.
A series of crackling sounds filled the air.
He twisted his neck and gave a slightly sly smile.
"Comfortable."
"This time it really feels good."
Chen Fan was about to breathe a sigh of relief.
From the deepest part of the main warehouse, a heavy, muffled thud suddenly came.
It looked like a large cabinet had been pushed open from the inside.
Immediately following.
The entire abandoned warehouse began to shake.
One by one, the unopened nameplates on the wall lit up.
Red, black, gray.
Fully lit.
Yang Jian looked up, his face darkening.
"wrong."
"We've brought out all the security personnel at the main warehouse."
The celestial hound prickled up its ears and growled at the back of the black gate.
Something has come out.
Sun Wukong, carrying his staff, became excited instead.
"You've come at the perfect time."
"I'll just rip up this wrecked warehouse while I'm at it today."
Zhu Ganglie looked up at the black gate, licked his teeth, and suddenly spoke.
"Let's make this clear first."
"I only help those with a higher chance of winning."
Chapter 218 The Main Personality of Sha Wujing
Behind the black door, sand was still falling.
The scribe was lying on the threshold, half of his body buried in the ground, still shouting.
"Close the gate! Close the gate! Close it now!"
The stone hung in mid-air, its gray light shining down layer by layer.
The light made his face turn blue.
The light made the chains inside his body rattle and clank.
Tang Sanzang stared at the figure at the end of the chain, his eyes turning red, and he was about to rush in.
Zongwu stopped him.
"Don't go in yet."
"This place is full of old rules. If you make a wrong step, the person below you will be the first to suffer."
Chen Fan had already squatted down next to the scribe, his hand resting on the rolled-up black book.
The transcriber's face twisted in disbelief.
"Don't touch it! That's the supplementary register of criminal records!"
"You're an outsider; even the slightest movement is an added offense!"
Chen Fan looked up at him and smiled.
"With your behavior like this, you're still trying to talk to me about rules?"
The scribe gritted his teeth, still stubborn.
"I am the legitimate guardian of the Shifting Sands Black Prison, entrusted with the list of names to guard this place for 3,700 years. If you dare to misbehave, the rules of the Black Prison will crush you first!"
"Legal custody?"
Chen Fan ran his finger across the black book.
The system panel pops up directly.
Incomplete prison pass permissions detected.
[Whether to take over the transcription interface]
"catch."
The next instant, the black book turned its pages by itself.
Page after page of charges of crimes crawled out like snakes.
The scribe's pupils contracted, and his voice trembled.
"How did you manage to open the transcription port?"
Chen Fan ignored him.
He's quick to read.
The preceding sections are all service records, penalty term replacements, and compensatory rotations.
The more I look, the darker it gets.
The more I flipped through it, the more I wanted to laugh.
"Okay."
"You bastard, you really know how to exploit loopholes."
Zongwu took a step closer.
"What did you find out?"
Chen Fan slapped a page onto the scribe's face.
"His status is not that of a legal caretaker."
"He was originally just a minor official in charge of copying criminal records, checking sentences, and incidentally guarding the gate for a hundred years."
"As a result, when the hundred-year term expired, no one came to renew it."
He added a line of annotation to his own work.
Chen Fan read the line of text aloud.
"If the old post has not been revoked, it will be considered as an extension of the term."
Sun Wukong grinned as he heard this.
"Damn it, you think this counts?"
Chen Fan sneered.
"He did it over seventy more times afterward."
"One hundred years at a time. One hundred years at a time."
"Extend your own life, stamp your own mark."
"What a legitimate guard!"
The scribe was so angry he reached out and snatched the booklet.
"Nonsense! This is tacit approval! No one from above has objected, which means it's tacit approval!"
Chen Fan pulled his hand back and casually made another change.
The old words on the black book instantly distorted.
New ink marks surfaced on their own.
—Those who occupy posts beyond their permitted term, arbitrarily alter prison records, or abuse their guard authority shall be punished according to the total number of crimes they have committed.
The scribe, upon seeing that line, felt as if sand was stuck in his throat.
"You dare to alter the master database?"
Why wouldn't I dare?
Chen Fan pressed the booklet onto the ground.
"Aren't you the one who loves to use rules to intimidate people?"
"Let you have a taste today."
boom!
The entire black door suddenly shuddered.
The wall was covered with countless placards listing crimes, all of which were now lit up.
A dark light pressed down on the scribe's head.
He was stunned for a moment, then crawled backward like a madman.
"No, that's not right, that's not how it's judged!"
"I was just copying it down, I don't acknowledge it, I don't acknowledge it!"
No one ignored him.
One after another, scrolls of accusations emerged from the cracks in the rocks, like stacks of wet paper, raining down on him.
Ten volumes.
One hundred volumes.
Thousands of volumes.
Each volume bears his handwritten imprint.
At first, he could still support himself on his arms and curse.
"I work for my superiors! I guard the gates of the Black Prison! What right do you outsiders have—"
Before he could finish speaking, a second wave of accusations came crashing down.
His back collapsed first.
His knee slammed into the ground, and his bones cracked.
The lingering images of the prison guards all around suddenly stopped.
Seeing the copyist's eyes nearly pop out of their sockets as he looked at the pile of documents he had copied, he realized that the copyist's eyes were about to pop out of their sockets.
A lingering shadow murmured something.
"Can it really be judged like this?"
Sun Wukong laughed out loud while carrying his staff.
"Old Chen, you're ruthless."
"This is called 'he who takes a bribe is beholden to the person who copied his work.'"
The scribe's face was pressed against the ground, his mouth full of sand.
Still struggling.
"I know where the chains are! I know where they're hidden! Stop pressing them! Stop pressing them!"
Zong Wu's eyes sharpened, and he immediately turned the questioning stone in his hand towards him.
"explain."
The limestone light turned into a line and was directly nailed to the official's brow.
The scribe wanted to shut up, but his teeth chattered on their own.
"He...he's not at the door."
"The person standing at the gate these past few years is a serviceman."
Tang Sanzang was taken aback.
What is meant by "service personality"?
The scribe seemed to have his mouth pried open with a knife, spitting out words intermittently.
"The black jails hold serious criminals, and the biggest fear is that the main culprit will go berserk. The most common method is to dismantle the prison."
"Dismantle your thoughts, dismantle your temperament, dismantle your courage, dismantle your ferocity."
"Those who can do the work are sent to bear the punishment. Those who can confess are taken to trial. Those who can endure hardship are tied to the door to make a show of it."
"As for the dominant personality..."
He shuddered.
"Put him at the bottom of the prison. Separately sealed."
Tang Sanzang's face turned pale upon hearing this, and his hands trembled inside his sleeves.
"Wujing...how many parts did you break up?"
The transcriber's voice was even lower.
"Fifty-seven copies."
The air suddenly froze.
Even Sun Wukong stopped laughing.
The white dragon horse cursed, its teeth clenching so hard they cracked.
"Fifty-seven portions? Are you chopping people up like firewood?"
Chen Fan's eyes turned cold.
He had long suspected that something was wrong with Sha Wujing.
But he never expected it to get this dirty.
Zongwu stepped onto the scribe's back.
"The source of the chains."
"Be more precise."
The scribe squeezed out a single word.
"end."
He had just finished speaking when the limestone suddenly sank downwards.
A crack appeared in the layer of black sand on the ground.
There is no pit below.
It is a straight-tube deep well.
The well walls were entirely made of chains.
Each section had a broken name tag hanging from it.
Some are labeled "Guardian".
Some of them are labeled "punished".
Some only have half a character left.
Tang Sanzang glanced at it and jumped down immediately.
"Master!"
The white dragon horse let out a shout and charged down the river as well.
Chen Fan and Zong Wu followed closely behind.
Sun Wukong glanced back at the scribe.
"You lie down first."
"Wait until I get back, then let's see how many pages you can copy."
He plunged the stick into the ground and then leaped down.
There is no wind in the deep well.
The only sound was the grinding of iron chains against the wall.
The deeper you go, the heavier it gets.
It felt like something was pressing on my chest.
When Tang Sanzang reached the bottom, his shoes sank into a thin layer of sand, and he almost lost his footing.
There was only one dark light in front of me.
A person was sitting under the lamp.
The man had broad shoulders, his hair was a mess like straw, and he wore three locks around his neck.
Their hands and feet were nailed to the stone seat.
The most ruthless thing is what's behind their backs.
Dozens of thin chains were stuck in his back, each extending upwards to the broken plaques on the well wall.
Tang Sanzang stood there, his throat tightening.
"Wujing".
The person didn't look up.
It was as if they hadn't heard at all.
Tang Sanzang took a step forward and called out again.
"Wujing, that's me."
This time, the man's shoulder twitched.
It's very light.
It feels like I haven't heard this name in a long time.
After a few breaths, he slowly raised his head.
His face was extremely thin, his eyes were sunken, and there was a crack at the corner of his mouth.
But Tang Sanzang recognized him at a glance.
It really is Sha Wujing (Sandy).
It's not the shell of a figure kneeling at the entrance, bearing the punishment.
She was the first person to accompany him across the Liusha River.
Tang Sanzang opened his mouth, wanting to speak, but in the end he only uttered one sentence.
"I'm late."
Sha Wujing looked at him, his eyes initially empty, then a spark seemed to ignite within them.
His lips moved very slowly.
It's like every word has to be forced out of your throat.
"Master."
"Don't make me... take the blame for others anymore."
In a word.
Just this one sentence.
Tang Sanzang's eyes instantly reddened.
That shell at the entrance is a confession for someone else.
Those few fragments that were tortured took the blame for others.
The one who guards the gate lives for others.
In the end, even the dominant personality was reduced to just this sentence.
Stop taking the blame for others.
The white dragon horse stood behind, letting out a sharp breath through its nostrils.
"Oh shit."
Sun Wukong gripped his golden cudgel, the veins on the back of his hand bulging.
"I won't let any of those who tear him down get away with it."
Without wasting any words, Chen Fan walked directly to the stone seat.
The system scanned the area.
[Severe personality splitting lock detected]
[Source: Black Prison Service System]
[Can be forcibly demolished, or merged back]
[Execute or not?]
"implement."
Zongwu turned his head to look at him.
Are you confident?
Chen Fan raised his hand and pressed down on the thickest main chain.
"We have to smash it even if we're not sure."
"If we delay any longer, he'll really be completely destroyed."
The next instant, a black hammer appeared in his hand.
It's not a magic weapon; it's just a lock-breaking hammer that the system forcibly obtained.
It looks rough, but it's incredibly powerful.
The dirty rules of the copyist must be broken with the crudest methods.
boom!
The first hammer blow sent sparks flying from the main chain.
The entire deep well seemed to buzz.
The broken cards on the well wall shook wildly.
Immediately, cries, curses, and pleas for mercy came from above.
All fifty-odd servicemen were awakened.
Tang Sanzang stood in front of Sha Wujing, gritting his teeth.
"Smash it!"
"I'll take care of it if anything happens."
boom!
The second blow.
The main chain has a crack.
A nameplate on the well wall shattered on the spot, turning into a gray shadow that rushed down and crashed into Sha Wujing's chest.
Sha Wujing let out a muffled groan, his back suddenly straightening.
boom!
The third strike!
This time it wasn't a single dish.
Seven or eight gray figures pounced down together.
Those who guarded the gate, those who confessed, those who bore the punishment, those who remained silent, and those who were fierce.
He poured it all back in at once.
Sha Wujing's chest heaved more and more heavily, his forehead was covered in sweat, and his teeth were clenched so tightly they made a grinding sound.
The white dragon horse was terrified.
"Can he hold on?"
Zongwu stared at Wenshi, speaking very quickly.
"We have to hold on, even if we can't."
"The more you break it down, the more it will hurt when you put it back together."
"If we stop now, it will remain rotten forever."
Without saying a word, Chen Fan swung the hammer and smashed.
boom! boom! boom!
The chains broke one by one.
The gray shadows returned one by one.
The person in the deep well was in an uproar.
Some of the fragments were still crying when they were washed back.
Some people are cursing.
Some would just repeat, "I'm innocent."
The more voices there were, the paler Tang Sanzang's face became.
He finally understood that Sha Wujing had not been honest all these years.
They're afraid of being demolished again.
Every act of resistance only leads to the destruction of another part of the structure.
Every time someone cries out for justice, they end up with another charge against them.
In the end, even the question of "who am I" is almost lost.
When the last main chain broke, the entire stone base shattered with a deafening roar.
Sha Wujing fell forward.
Tang Sanzang stepped forward and helped him up.
The thin chains on Sha Wujing's body taut at the same time, and then snapped with a "crack".
All fifty-plus service records have been returned to their original positions.
His body jolted violently, and a low growl escaped his throat.
The sound wasn't loud.
The well wall cracked.
Outside the black door above, the files pressing down on the scribe seemed to jump.
The scribe, his face pressed to the ground, froze upon hearing the noise.
"It's over..."
"He's awake."
Bottom of the well.
Sha Wujing took a good dozen breaths before slowly opening his eyes.
Those eyes were initially cloudy.
A moment later, the focus returned to normal.
He saw Tang Sanzang first.
Then I saw Sun Wukong again.
Then I saw Chen Fan and the white dragon horse.
Everyone assumed he would call him "Master" first, or express his gratitude first.
When he uttered his first words, his voice was still hoarse, but his murderous intent was already palpable.
"Who are you planning to make me chop up?"
There was a moment of silence.
Immediately afterward, Sun Wukong burst out laughing.
"good!"
"That's more like it!"
The white dragon horse also grinned.
"I knew it, people who come from this river shouldn't be so taciturn."
Tang Sanzang supported Sha Wujing, his eyes still red, but he couldn't help but smile.
"There's no rush yet."
"There's someone above who copies down criminal records; you can practice on him first."
Sha Wujing slowly straightened up.
The broken chains on his body kept falling off in pieces.
The crescent shovel is not at hand.
He reached out and grabbed it.
A broken chain flew automatically from the well wall, wrapped around his hand, and twisted into a black shovel in the blink of an eye.
He weighed it in his hand without even looking up.
"OK."
"Then I'll settle this debt first."
Just then.
The stone in Zongwu's hand suddenly felt hot.
His expression changed, and he looked up into the depths.
"Don't go up there."
There's more down there.
Chen Fan heard it too.
Suddenly, a "crunching" sound came from under the layer of rubble at the bottom of the deep well.
It looks like something big is hardening its shell.
The next instant, the ground arched up.
A hand larger than a normal person's head emerged from the black sand.
That hand wasn't made of flesh and blood.
It is a clay model, a mold, a shell pressed out layer by layer.
A row of numbers was clearly engraved on the back of his hand.
Sha Wujing glanced down and his eyes instantly darkened.
"This tastes just like it."
"I remember."
The black sand exploded with a loud bang.
A three-zhang-tall female model of "Sha Wujing" slowly crawled out from the bottom of the prison.
It had a string of blank Buddhist garlands around its neck, and its belly was split open, filled with unformed human faces.
Chapter 219 Female Model
The three-zhang-tall female model slowly rose from the black sand.
It looks like a broken, pot-bellied Buddha.
The beads around their necks weren't Buddhist prayer beads, but rather blank Buddhist rings. The ripped open abdomens were filled with half-formed human faces, some still twitching, others with their eyes open, sand leaking from their mouths.
What's most terrifying is its face.
That face was clearly that of Sha Wujing.
It's just emptier and harder.
Like a face that has been measured with a ruler.
As soon as it crawled out, the entire Black Prison resounded. The black patterns on the four walls lit up, the chains on the ground taut, and the remains buried in the sand all moved.
Click.
Click.
Click.
One by one, the failed samples rose from the black sand.
Some were headless, some were missing half a shoulder, and some had mouths that stretched to their ears, yet they all held crescent-shaped shovels in their hands.
At first glance, all you see are "Sha Wujing" characters.
Tang Sanzang felt a chill run down his spine. He twirled his staff and used it to block Sha Wujing's path.
"Step back."
Sha Wujing had just pulled the main personality back, his legs were still weak, and his forehead was covered in cold sweat. He looked up at the female model, his throat bobbed, and his voice was as hoarse as grinding a stone.
"This wasn't something that was fought."
"This was made."
The female model lowered her head, and the faces inside her belly opened their mouths simultaneously.
But a woman's voice came out.
Not sharp, not thin.
It's so flat it looks like it's counting off.
"Number 3, total failure round 711."
"Escaped sample detected."
"Execute the recycling."
Sun Wukong got angry as soon as he heard this and brandished his golden cudgel.
"Recycle your grandfather."
With a jolt, he charged forward, his golden cudgel aimed at the mother model's head.
boom!
The female model raised her left hand, and the number on the back of her hand flashed, managing to block the blow.
The entire Black Prison sank downwards.
The black sand exploded three zhang high.
Sun Wukong raised an eyebrow.
"It's quite hard."
The female model didn't respond.
Its belly ripped open suddenly, and dozens of human faces inside simultaneously spat out sand. Immediately, dense chains hung down from the four walls of the Black Prison, rushing straight towards Sha Wujing to entangle him.
Sha Wujing raised his shovel and chopped down three roots.
The fourth one, however, pierced his shoulder.
He swayed, and his face turned pale instantly.
The female model's voice remained flat.
"The dominant personality is unstable."
"Suitable for splitting."
When Zhu Ganglie looked from the side, his face twisted in shock.
"Damn it, it even dismantles the body after it's been reassembled?"
Chen Fan's eyes turned cold.
This is not about killing Sha Wujing.
This means we need to send his materials back to us.
The failed samples also pounced. They were fearless and reckless, shoveling wildly, swinging chains erratically, and chanting the same phrase over and over again.
"Return to the granary. Return to the granary. Return to the granary."
Zongwu swatted two away with one wing, his face grim.
"It's adjusting the bottom layer array of the Black Prison."
"If we delay any longer, Sha Wujing will really be torn to pieces."
"Then let's not delay any longer." Chen Fan turned around and shouted, "Tang Sanzang, calm your soul. Wujing, don't move around, hold onto your last breath."
Tang Sanzang was straightforward; he slammed his staff on the ground, and instead of projecting the Buddha's light outwards, it pressed directly back onto Sha Wujing.
"sit down!"
Sha Wujing gritted his teeth, knelt on one knee, and gripped the crescent-shaped shovel handle tightly with both hands.
The old Buddhist bracelet around his neck was still ringing.
One sound after another.
It looks like it could crack at any moment.
Tang Sanzang sat cross-legged behind him, raised his hand to press on his back, and chanted not scriptures, but the soul-stabilizing incantation that Chen Fan had taught him to correct earlier. The sound was not loud, but the rhythm was very hard, like nails, driving Sha Wujing's newly pieced-back soul into his flesh.
The mother model seemed to be enraged, and the faces inside her belly all turned towards Tang Sanzang.
"An unusual source of monks has been detected."
"The polluter."
"Prioritize clearing".
Hundreds of failed samples turned around at the same time and pounced on Tang Sanzang like madmen.
Sun Wukong swung his staff and smashed a piece of it.
Pigsy charged forward, dragging his rake, and snapped the first three samples in half at the waist, cursing and hitting them all the while.
"You bunch of mud bricks, you look like Old Sha, you really deserve a beating!"
Yang Jian opened his Heavenly Eye at the other end and specifically targeted the chain nodes to cut.
Sparks flew wildly in the dark prison.
But Chen Fan did not participate in the battle.
He stared at the back of the female model.
On its back, there was a row of black holes, like electrical outlets.
Each sip exudes fine, shimmering sand-like threads.
Those light threads didn't connect anywhere else; they all burrowed into the ground.
Zong Wu followed his gaze and his pupils contracted.
"The backstage is down there."
"It's just a shell."
Chen Fan smiled.
"I knew it. The mastermind behind the assembly line wouldn't stand in front of the camera and take the beating."
"Go, cut it off at the root."
Without asking any unnecessary questions, Zong Wu followed Chen Fan and rushed behind the mother model.
The female mold clearly noticed, and all the holes and grooves on the back lit up immediately.
More than a dozen thick sand chains shot out from the ground, lashing at the two like live snakes.
Chen Fan didn't stop walking, and flicked his hand.
A black talisman was pasted out.
"Close the door!"
The talisman stuck to the sand chain and exploded with a snap. The sand chain paused for a moment, and Zongwu took the opportunity to flip over and land, grabbing the groove on the back of the mother mold with one claw and tearing open a layer of outer shell.
With a whoosh.
An old copper pipe was visible inside.
The copper tube is engraved with Buddhist patterns and polished to a shine, clearly indicating that it has been used for many years.
Zongwu cursed.
"This doesn't belong to Black Prison itself."
Chen Fan's eyes darkened, and he reached out and touched the tube, immediately feeling a familiar coolness on his fingertips.
The engine on the other side.
It's the same old stuff again.
He looked down through the copper pipe and saw an old turntable hidden at the bottom of the black sand. The turntable was surrounded by densely packed small squares, and in each square was a half-broken life tablet.
There is a Sha Wujing.
There's also Zhu Bajie (Pigsy).
There are even old sample numbers of Tang Sanzang.
Chen Fan understood instantly.
Buddhism has never stopped.
These bald monks talk about saving people, but behind the scenes they're secretly making characters in bulk. Anyone who disobeys is dismantled. Then they're put back together, reassembled into the shape they want, and then stuffed onto the westward journey.
If one breaks, just replace it.
The master model is the brain behind this line.
Zong Wu understood as well, and his face was filled with murderous intent.
"To fry or not to fry?"
"Save one person and leave?" Chen Fan sneered. "We've already gotten close to the stove; I can't sleep until we overturn the pot."
He flipped his hand and pulled open the panel for the amoral system.
The red text above is jumping wildly.
[A large-scale fake character workshop has been detected]
Destruction grants a high amount of reversal value.
[Bonus: Fragments of old API permissions from the Other Shore]
Chen Fan's lips curled into a smile.
If it's offered to you, you might as well take it.
"Zongwu, cover me for three breaths."
"Just three breaths?"
That's enough.
Zongwu spread its wings, and black flames on its feathers exploded, blocking the incoming sand chains and samples.
Chen Fan knelt down in front of the old turntable and raised his hand to press it.
The power of the system flowed into his palm.
hum-
The entire turntable suddenly shook.
The female model made a different sound for the first time.
Like a machine jamming.
"warn."
"Backend access error".
"Interface permission conflict".
The mold above, which was clashing with Sun Wukong, froze mid-strike. Sun Wukong seized the opportunity and smashed it in the face with his staff, sending half of the mold's face flying.
"Stop pretending to be a wooden doll!"
Pigsy, watching from the side, got so excited that he rammed his rake into the tear in the mother mold's belly, ripped out a large lump of clay with a human face, threw it on the ground, and stomped it to pieces.
"I'll crush you counterfeiters!"
A piercing scream came from the mother's belly.
More failed samples fell from the four walls.
A dark mass.
Yang Jian's divine eye on his forehead suddenly opened, and with a sweep of silver light, he cleared a path and shouted to Chen Fan.
"Hurry! It's reassembling!"
The veins on the back of Chen Fan's hand were bulging.
The old turntable had a lot of resistance.
That wasn't an ordinary formation; it was a series of access locks. Each layer bore Buddhist markings, as if someone had long anticipated that one day someone would follow the trail to reach them.
But the more it was like this, the more Chen Fan wanted to beat it up.
As he forcibly seized power, he quickly scanned the life tablets.
Suddenly, he saw a large sign on the innermost layer.
The sign doesn't have a number written on it.
It consists of two characters.
Golden cicada.
Chen Fan's heart skipped a beat.
Tang Sanzang is also on this route.
Not a generation.
It is a mass production template.
The female mold suddenly returned to normal, and the sound resumed.
"High-value object detected."
"Activate the responsibility transfer contingency plan."
"Cleanse the criminal record behind the scenes."
Chen Fan suddenly looked up.
"not good!"
The next instant, the ceiling of the entire Black Prison cracked open.
Countless black scriptures poured down like ink, rushing towards Tang Sanzang.
Those scriptures are filled with cries, curses, and the sound of chains.
Every failed attempt to dismantle this black prison over the past thousand years has left its mark inside.
Tang Sanzang was busy calming Sha Wujing's soul and couldn't take his hands off the matter.
When he looked up, he saw the black scriptures gather in mid-air to form a huge character for "sin," which struck him directly between the eyebrows.
The female model's voice was frighteningly flat.
"Black Prison Crime Archives"
"The source of pollution has been identified as Tang Sanzang."
"Begin ballasting."
Tang Sanzang's expression changed.
Sha Wujing suddenly opened his eyes, let out a roar, and reached out to grab him.
But as soon as he got up, he was so confused that he fell back down.
Sun Wukong smashed half of the mold with his staff, turned around and saw this scene, his eyes immediately turned red.
"Bald monk!"
Chen Fan also rushed up.
But the black letter "crime" fell even faster.
They were only three feet away from Tang Sanzang.