250: Chapter 250 Psionic Code, Interfering with Magical Arts

The moment the mecha's afterimage slid past, Chen Wuwang didn't even look back.

Raising his left hand, the Psionic Module on his wrist hummed and vibrated slightly, firing a Pulse Beam as thin as a hair that accurately struck that twisted metal core.

With a muffled boom, the afterimage exploded into fragments, sparks flying everywhere and sizzling as they landed in the pool of blood.

Only then did he slowly turn around, facing Blood Butcher, who was leaning against the rock wall.

The corner of the other man's mouth was still stained with blood, his right hand still pointed at Chen Wuwang's chest, his fingertips twitching slightly.

That finger originally hid a follow-up move—a Blood Curse buried for three hundred years. If Chen Wuwang came just three steps closer, he would self-detonate his Meridians to take him down with him.

But now, Blood Butcher could no longer lift his hand.

The true essence inside his body was a mess, like a shredded ball of yarn stuck in his Meridians; every breath he took tore at his internal organs with agonizing pain.

He glared at Chen Wuwang, his throat bobbing as he tried to curse, but he only coughed up a mouthful of black blood.

Chen Wuwang didn't move.

The five fingers of his right hand tapped rapidly in the air, his movements crisp and neat, as if he were inputting some kind of command.

His Mechanical Prosthetic Eye flashed with red light, and deep within his consciousness, he pulled up a data package he had prepared long ago—

It was the result of his reverse-engineering the residual energy of the Blood River Demonic Art over the past seven days, compressed into a set of intrusive Psionic Code.

The code was released silently.

Nano-level Psionic Threads diffused with the air particles, seeping into Blood Butcher's body through the wound on his calf and quietly spreading along the path of his blood flow.

There was no explosion, no forceful attack; like a drop of water merging into a river, it quietly blended into the underlying logic of his Cultivation Technique's operation.

The first wave of interference began.

Blood Butcher shuddered violently, his pupils shrinking suddenly.

He felt something was wrong.

It wasn't pain, nor was it suppression, but a kind of... misalignment.

The Blood River Demonic Art in his body was supposed to circulate continuously, turning essence blood into evil energy and Evil Qi into power. But now, with every cycle, the rhythm was half a beat slow, as if sand had jammed into the gears.

He forcibly activated his Mind-Cultivation Technique's mnemonics, only to find the words in his mind starting to blur, with certain characters jumping inexplicably and arranging themselves in a chaotic order.

“Swallow... blood... refine... bones...”

“Swallow... bones... refine... blood...?”

His heart went cold.

This wasn't Qi Deviation.

This was someone tampering with his Cultivation Technique!

“You... what did you do?!” he roared, his voice cracking with unbelievable terror.

Chen Wuwang didn't answer.

The corners of his mouth curled up slightly, his eyes as cold as a scanner locking onto a target.

He continued tapping his fingers, injecting the second segment of code, employing a 'segmented turbulence + delayed detonation' strategy.

First, disrupt the rhythmic cycle of the technique, then precision-detonate key nodes—

The Shanzhong Point, the Mingmen Gate, and the Yongquan Meridian; three meridian points vibrated in succession, like program breakpoints being triggered one by one.

Blood Butcher's entire body began to twitch violently.

His blood began to flow in reverse, and the blackened area of his wound spread rapidly from the base of his leg to his waist and abdomen.

His facial muscles twitched uncontrollably, veins bulged on his forehead, and his eyes were bloodshot.

He wanted to roar, but the sound was stuck in his throat.

Within his Sea of Consciousness, the Blood River True Scripture that he had cultivated for three hundred years was disintegrating.

Lines of mnemonics were being torn apart, reorganized, and misconnected by an invisible hand, turning into absurd and nonsensical garbled code:

“Use the enemy's blood to nourish my cauliflower.”

“Kill ten people, get half a bowl of rice.”

“On the day of success, green smoke rises from the top of the head.”

Utterly ridiculous.

And yet, it was truly happening.

The Demonic Technique he took pride in was now like an old program full of loopholes, being remotely controlled and tampered with at will by a more Advanced machine.

“No... impossible!” he growled through gritted teeth, his fingernails digging deep into the rock wall. “I, Blood Butcher, relied on this technique to fight my way out, devouring the essence blood of a thousand people... how could you... how dare you...!”

Chen Wuwang finally spoke, his voice so calm it didn't sound human.

“Your Cultivation Technique is nothing more than a piece of old code full of bugs,” he said. “And I am its System administrator.”

As he spoke, he took half a step forward with his right foot.

The rune array on the ground activated instantly, and six chains shot out from the rock crevices, binding Blood Butcher's limbs.

This wasn't an ordinary binding array, but a 'Psionic Interruption Array' specifically designed to cut off Spiritual Qi resonance.

A faint electric current flowed on the surface of the chains, each one precisely jammed into the nodes where he connected with the external world.

Blood Butcher struggled for a moment, only to find he couldn't even mobilize a sliver of spiritual power.

He was completely trapped.

Chen Wuwang approached slowly and stood three steps away.

His Mechanical Prosthetic Eye projected a floating light screen of flowing data, clearly displaying various parameters within Blood Butcher's body: True Essence purity 3.7%, meridian blockage rate 89%, life activity continuing to drop, having entered the irreversible stage of failure.

“You have thirty seconds left,” Chen Wuwang said indifferently. “The prerequisite for a Golden Core self-detonation is the solidification of true essence. Right now, you can't even manage Qi Gathering.”

Blood Butcher's breathing was heavy, and cold sweat mixed with blood slid down his forehead.

Refusing to believe his bad luck, he forcibly mobilized his last bit of strength, attempting to detonate his Golden Core to break out.

But as soon as there was movement in his Dantian, the code in his body responded immediately, injecting a disordered frequency in reverse, causing the true essence to fail to condense and instead triggering an even greater backlash.

“Ugh, ah—!” He threw his head back with a muffled groan, blood overflowing from his mouth again.

He knew he was finished.

He didn't die under a sword, nor did he perish in a Lightning Tribulation, but was... having his Foundation dismantled alive by an invisible, intangible 'thing.'

This was more ruthless than killing him.

Chen Wuwang formed a hand seal, preparing to release the final termination code.

That was a set of high-level override commands that could directly erase all imprints of the Blood River Demonic Art in his Sea of Consciousness, turning him into a useless person from then on.

This strike would be a guaranteed kill if unleashed.

But he stopped.

He didn't release it.

He just stood there quietly, his gaze cold, watching Blood Butcher gradually lose his ability to resist.

The cave was deathly silent.

There was only Blood Butcher's heavy breathing and the slight rattling of the chains.

He leaned against the rock wall, limbs bound, his face a sickly green-black, his breathing rapid. His consciousness remained, but his combat power was zero.

He wanted to flee, but lacked the strength.

He wanted to fight, but could not.

Even death was not up to him.

Chen Wuwang stood in place, the red light of his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye locked onto the space between the other's eyebrows, his hand seal unrelaxed, ready to launch a fatal strike at any moment.

The data light screen was still flowing.

The countdown ticked silently.

Thirty-two.

Thirty-one.

Thirty...

Blood Butcher's eyeballs rolled slightly, a glimmer of survival instinct passing through them.

He knew there was only one chance left.

Once Chen Wuwang made his move, he would never be able to stand up again.

He had to leave.

Even if he had to turn into a blood shadow, even if only a wisp of a remnant soul remained.

But he couldn't move.

The chains didn't budge an inch.

His Cultivation Technique was completely paralyzed.

He didn't even have the strength to condense a Blood Escape.

He could only wait.

Wait for a flaw.

Wait for a moment of laxity.

Chen Wuwang remained standing, giving no orders, not moving, and not lifting the suppression.

The cave battlefield was frozen like a painting.