223: Chapter 223 Psionic Code Interference, Mo Yuan Mech Goes Out of Control

Three hundred meters high in the air, the wind tore at his cheeks, causing a stinging pain.

Chen Wuwang sat in the cockpit of the "eye of wuwang," his knuckles tapping lightly on the control stick as if he were typing code.

The blue light of his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye flashed, locking onto a faint delay in the power node of Moyuan's mecha's left leg—0.3 seconds, no more, no less, exactly the gap in the System reboot buffer.

"Found it," he whispered, the corner of his mouth curling up.

The residual smoke from the missile explosion was still drifting in the air, and the ionization field had not yet dissipated, making it the perfect place to hide an invisible data cable.

The tactical module on his back unfolded silently, and six micro-emitters aimed at the target area.

It wasn't a weapon; it was a quantum entanglement beam emitter.

He disguised a string of psionic code, only three hundred lines long, as a self-check command and injected it into a crack in the opponent's System.

The code was tiny, like a grain of sand, yet it precisely jammed into the moment the gears meshed.

Moyuan had just stabilized his posture, the black smoke on his shoulder armor still lingering, when he suddenly sensed something was wrong.

"Warning: Left leg drive circuit abnormal."

"Warning: Attitude calibration module failure."

"Warning: Neural link signal disrupted—"

A series of red letters exploded in his field of vision, and his brows furrowed sharply.

"Who?!"

He shoved the control stick, wanting to gain altitude and regroup, but the mecha acted like it was drunk, tilting sharply to the right and carving a crooked arc through the air.

"Impossible!" Moyuan roared, his fingers frantically pounding on the control panel, "Activate emergency protocols! Switch to backup master control! Clear external signals!"

The command was issued, and the System responded.

But that string of code had already set a trap.

It didn't attack, it didn't destroy; it just waited quietly for the moment of permission reset—

Then it recursively copied itself, infiltrating backwards along the data stream, drilling into six subsystems in one go: flight, balance, weapons, perception, energy, and communication.

The entire mecha began to twitch.

The chain-saw claw on the left arm suddenly reversed halfway through its rotation, nearly shearing off its own shoulder armor;

The hydraulic rod on the right leg lost pressure for no reason, causing the fuselage to plummet violently before snapping back up;

The runes on the chest armor flickered, and the frequency of the Cthulhu whispers dissolved into a mess of static.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Moyuan gripped the seat armrests tightly, veins bulging on his forehead, "Move! I am your master!"

But the machine didn't recognize a master; it only recognized commands.

And at this moment, the control was not in his hands.

Chen Wuwang watched the data streams dancing on the screen and chuckled: "You cultivate for immortality, while I play with low-level logic. No matter how strong you are, you still have to listen to the operating System."

He shut down the charging of the two Rune Cannons on the right wing and funneled all the saved psionic energy into the neural link channel.

His fingers danced across the virtual keyboard, as if he were debugging a remote program.

"Now, let's dance."

As the words fell, he pressed the confirmation key.

Moyuan's mecha gave a violent jolt, and all the out-of-control movements came to an abrupt halt.

Immediately after, it began... to dance.

Not a combat stance, not a defensive mode, but an irregular, chaotic oscillation—

Rising and falling, swaying left and right, tumbling forward and backward, as if being tossed around by an invisible hand.

The chain-saw claw buzzed wildly but couldn't cut through anything; the thruster nozzles opened and closed intermittently, making the fuselage writhe like a convulsing fish.

"You—!!!" Moyuan's eyes were splitting with rage as he frantically pounded the console, "Get out of my System! Get out!"

He roared from the depths of his consciousness, attempting to forcibly regain control.

But every attempt only made that code spread faster.

It was no longer just interference; it had become the new rule-maker.

Chen Wuwang sneered: "The more you struggle, the faster it replicates. Do you know what recursive nesting is? Every time you hit restart, it splits once. You aren't clearing a virus right now; you're fertilizing it."

Moyuan finally realized—he was trapped.

Not that his body was locked, but his consciousness was blocked in a dead-end loop.

He could see outside, he could hear the alarms, but he couldn't issue any effective commands.

His mecha had become a cage, and he had become a passenger.

"Chen Wuwang!" he hissed, "You think you can win like this?! I can kill you without a mecha!"

Chen Wuwang ignored him.

He had already pulled up the right-arm weapon switching menu, his fingertips sliding over a row of options before finally stopping on a grayed-out icon.

[Silent Pulse Cannon]—designed specifically to suppress psionic outbursts, it can neutralize unstable energy sources without triggering a chain reaction.

He knew Moyuan still had an ace up his sleeve.

Deep inside the chest armor, that Cthulhu whisper core was heating up. The energy readings were climbing slowly; it hadn't reached the critical point yet, but it was dangerous enough.

"Want to blow up?" Chen Wuwang narrowed his eyes, "Then I'll mute you first."

He pulled the trigger lever, and the Silent Pulse Cannon slowly charged, a ripple almost invisible to the naked eye blooming at the muzzle.

At the same time, the six-barreled Rune Cannon entered the final locking stage, the charging progress bar lighting up notch by notch, white light swirling and gathering within the barrels.

Moyuan's mecha was still tumbling wildly in the air, like a kite with a broken string.

He gritted his teeth, his hands clutching the edges of the seat so hard his knuckles turned white, the fury in his eyes almost burning through the screen.

"You are nothing but a thief who stole the Heavenly Dao! A madman playing god with a tin box! You are not worthy—"

"Worthy or not," Chen Wuwang interrupted him, his voice calm, "we'll see after you hit the ground."

He raised his left hand, the red light of his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye locking onto the enemy's coordinates.

The ripples at the muzzle of his right arm expanded, and the six Rune Cannons finished charging.

The killing blow was ready; it was only a moment away.

Just then, a low hum suddenly came from Moyuan's chest armor, as if an ancient beast were whispering in its sleep.

The energy accumulation speed suddenly accelerated.

Chen Wuwang's eyes narrowed.

Here it comes.

He didn't hesitate and immediately activated the Silent Pulse Cannon.

An invisible wave shot out, heading straight for the core area of Moyuan's mecha.

The next second, the humming on the chest armor weakened, and the energy rise curve was forcibly flattened.

But that was all.

The core was still there, like a nail buried in flesh, ready to explode at any moment.

Chen Wuwang stared at the data panel, his breathing steady.

He knew this shot could only suppress, not eradicate.

The true moment of victory had not yet arrived.

He slowly pushed the twin sticks, the eye of wuwang closing in, its silver-white armor gleaming coldly in the setting sun.

The distance shortened to fifty meters.

Thirty meters.

Ten meters.

The two mechas hovered face-to-face, with only the wind howling between them.

Through the shattered shield glass, Moyuan stared fixedly at the silver-haired figure.

"You won't kill me." he suddenly laughed, his laughter as dry as sandpaper rubbing together, "You know who sent me. You also know that this is just the beginning."

Chen Wuwang didn't answer.

He simply raised his right hand, pointing at the opponent's chest.

The six Rune Cannons turned in unison, their muzzles aiming at the same spot.

Locking complete.

Launch countdown initiated.

Three.

Two.

One.