Chapter 194: Seeing You Off, My Lords
His pockets were stuffed with various gadgets, each capable of transforming into a deadly bomb in an instant.
Kai, the Elastic Man, squatted in the corner, small and thin, looking like a middle school student.
His ability to stretch and contract any part of his body at will made him the most flexible and elusive warrior on the team.
He was currently using his fingers to tease a cockroach that had scurried in from who knew where—his fingers elongating, shortening, elongating, shortening, like a flexible snake.
Black Samson stood beside Rex, nearly two meters tall, with dark skin and bulging muscles, like a silent mountain.
His abilities included super strength and an almost immortal physique; he once single-handedly withstood the firepower of an entire mercenary army.
He didn't like to talk, but everyone knew he was the most reliable shield on the team.
Captain Mamba stood at the very front, his battle suit blue and gold, holding a circular shield, his expression resolute.
He was the Captain Africa, one of the most experienced warriors in the Young Heroes Team.
His classic quote was, "I can elbow you all day long"—and today, he really needed to elbow all day long.
Black Spider squatted in another corner, his red spider battle suit particularly glaring under the lights.
His mouth never stopped, muttering something, but no one listened.
Everyone knew it was just his habit.
Then, there was Robot.
No, not the metal shell, but the real, flesh-and-blood, living—Rudy.
He emerged from the shadows of the base, his steps light but steady.
His biological age was only thirteen or fourteen, similar to Beast Girl, but his eyes—those eyes were too old, as old as a bottomless ancient well, filled with wisdom and weariness that didn't belong to his age.
Rex raised an eyebrow.
"How come I feel like you look a lot like me when I was little?"
Rudy glanced at him but didn't answer.
His gaze swept over everyone present, finally resting on Eve's face.
"Everyone, I am meeting you in my true form today to announce this news to you."
His voice still had that electronic synthesized timbre, but with a real throat and vocal cords, it gained a touch of warmth not belonging to a machine.
"The world has entered a critical period of life and death."
His voice was soft, but every word was as clear as a knife carving into steel.
"We all know how powerful Invincible Mark Grayson is.
And today, there are a hundred and eight Invincible Young Heroes in our world."
His gaze swept across their faces.
"They will wreak havoc.
They have no morals.
They completely disregard order."
Eve frowned slightly but didn't speak.
"Let us contribute to the survival of humanity!"
Rudy spread his arms, like a conductor welcoming the first note of a symphony.
In various corners of the base, there was movement.
The hidden hatches in the walls, the launch tubes embedded in the ceiling, the hangars buried deep underground—all opened simultaneously.
Golden Robots flew out one after another.
Their metal bodies shimmered brilliantly under the lights, like a swarm of startled fireflies, like a crimson cloud of locusts rising from the horizon.
Thousands.
No, tens of thousands.
Every Robot was personally designed, personally manufactured, and personally controlled by Rudy.
They had no consciousness, no emotions, no fear.
They were Rudy's extensions, his eyes, his ears, his fists.
Rex whistled.
"Wow, this is quite a grand gesture."
He patted Rudy's shoulder, with a force that was neither too light nor too heavy, just enough to make a thirteen-year-old boy sway.
"Don't worry, Robot.
We will always achieve ultimate victory."
He smiled, a smile filled with the boundless confidence of youth.
"Heroes never lose!"
Eve looked at Rex, the corners of her mouth slightly upturned.
Captain Mamba tapped his shield, producing a crisp metallic sound.
Beast Girl clenched her fists, her knuckles cracking.
Kai stood up and stretched his neck.
Black Spider finally stopped muttering and stood up.
Black Samson silently took a step forward.
No one spoke, but everyone smiled.
Heroes don't give up.
Because it's a hero's responsibility.
Rudy looked at them, a flicker of light in his ancient eyes.
He stepped back, clasped his hands together, and performed a traditional Huaxia 禮儀.
"Then, I await your auspicious words."
He bowed slightly; despite his tender age, his expression was so sincere and mournful:
"Young Hero, Robot Rudy Connors!"
"Seeing you off!"
A golden suit of armor descended from above, fitting precisely onto his body.
The metal components automatically snapped together, making clicking sounds.
The face mask dropped, covering his young face.
Indeed, he was Rudy.
Or rather, a clone of Rudy, but how it was described didn't matter.
Now he was just the Young Hero Robot!
Throughout the entire Invincible series, no one could question Robot's deep love for humanity.
He was the first to soar into the sky, his golden figure breaking through the base's ceiling and disappearing into the gray sky.
"Haha, so young, yet so pretentious!"
Rex mocked Rudy's recent actions.
He straightened his clothes, his face becoming serious, and returned a proper cupped-fist salute.
"Seeing you off!"
"Seeing us off!"
With clasped hands, Rex looked at his teammates, his gaze no longer frivolous, only filled with profound sentiment.
No one understood the Invincible's strength better than them.
Even if it was just a variant, they couldn't hope to compare.
But they had to go, and they would go; this was what heroes should do!
"I don't want to say too many sad things; that easily triggers a tragic ending."
Rex forced a smile, and seeing his appearance, all the Young Heroes Team members involuntarily became serious.
Looking at the group, Rex finally sighed helplessly:
"Honestly, if this is the last time, I don't want to remember your mournful faces."
With that, Rex ran off into the distance.
Run, run past all the past gloom!
This is the destiny of heroes...
Other heroes also rushed in all directions, using their respective abilities.
Chapter 195: Let It Begin
A blood-red rift in the void spanned the horizon, tearing the azure sky in two.
It was as if an invisible giant hand had carved an unhealable scar across the firmament.
A dark red haze, like a tide, instantly engulfed the entire Earth.
The color did not resemble clouds, but rather congealed blood, pouring down from the rift, covering the sky, obscuring the sun, hiding the stars, and eclipsing humanity's last hope.
The next moment, dozens of sturdy figures carrying an aura of destruction descended simultaneously upon landmarks across the globe.
There was no omen, no warning, only the pure brutality and indifference of the Viltrum people.
They hovered in the air, like a flock of crows landing on branches, like the Grim Reaper descending.
New York Harbor, atop the crown of the Statue of Liberty.
Evil Mark hovered silently.
He wore a black and yellow spliced battle suit, his golden cape snapping in the gale, his single eye devoid of any warmth.
That was a butcher's eye—in countless parallel Universes, it had seen too much blood, too much despair, and too many extinguished lives.
This butcher, who had killed his own father and slaughtered all resistance in his own Universe, was the most notorious variant in the multiverse.
He looked down at the crowd fleeing like ants beneath his feet, a cruel arc curling at the corner of his mouth.
Without any unnecessary movement, he just threw a casual punch.
That punch carried no frills, no technique, only the purest, most primitive, and most brutal Viltrum power.
Boom—!
A majestic power erupted instantly.
The giant statue, symbolizing freedom and hope, crumbled instantly as if made of paper.
Steel snapped, boulders splashed, and copper-green severed limbs fell from the high altitude, slamming into the Water surface of the harbor and kicking up sprays of Water dozens of meters high.
Rolling smoke and dust instantly shrouded all of Manhattan; cars on the streets were lifted by the shockwave, tumbling in the air a few times before slamming into the walls of buildings. The light of the explosions connected, dyeing the sky a dark red.
Above Shinjuku, Tokyo.
Omni-Mark stood indifferently.
A red and white battle suit, identical to Nolan's, remained motionless in the wind, highlighting his identity as an iron-fisted ruler.
He had long since completed the mission of the Viltrumpeople in his own world, personally crushing all resistance on his home planet.
His gaze was calm, as calm as a pool of stagnant Water—beneath the stagnant Water, however, lay an undercurrent capable of devouring everything.
He looked toward the Tokyo Tower, which towered into the clouds, his eyes without the slightest ripple.
With a slight clench of his palm, an invisible force surged from all directions, squeezing that giant steel tower.
The hard alloy tower body snapped inch by inch from the foundation, emitting a tooth-achingly distorted sound.
That sound was like the wailing of a giant beast, like steel weeping.
In an instant, this city landmark collapsed into a pile of twisted scrap iron, crashing into the dense blocks and kicking up clouds of smoke and dust.
He casually grabbed a passing civil airliner and squeezed with his five fingers.
The fuselage exploded instantly, and fuel and flesh burst into a grim fireball in mid-air.
Debris fell like raindrops, striking the ground and making a dense sound like drumbeats.
Paris, at the top of the Eiffel Tower.
The violent Striped Mark had blood-red eyes, the killing intent around him almost overflowing.
That killing intent was as thick as ink, as blood, as the resentment surging from a mass grave.
His blue-based, yellow-striped battle suit was stained with the blood of countless worlds; some had dried and turned black, while some were still dripping from the hem.
He was a madman born purely for slaughter—compared to conquest, he enjoyed the pleasure of destroying everything with his own hands even more.
He let out a low, grim laugh, and his figure suddenly swooped down.
Wherever his fist wind passed, high-rise buildings collapsed in rows, and streets were forcibly plowed into deep trenches.
Innocent civilians turned into blood mist under his fist, not even having time to scream.
Those blood mists permeated the air, were whipped up by the wind, and like a red rain, fell onto the broken walls and ruins.
Above the Red Square in Moscow.
Emperor Mark wore black and gold armor, his body wreathed in the majesty of one who looks down upon the galaxy.
That majesty was not feigned, but emanated from his very bones—he had conquered galaxies, had built his throne upon the ruins of countless civilizations, and had reigned as emperor in the multiverse.
His personality was cold and domineering to the extreme; he couldn't even be bothered to take action personally, merely sweeping a cold glance over the Kremlin before him.
An invisible force spread out.
It was not a fist, not Heat Vision, but a purer form of pressure that belonged to a king.
The thick city walls disintegrated instantly, the golden roofs were ripped off, and bricks and stones shattered into powder in the air.
The entire building turned into a ruin in silence; within a thousand meters, all signs of life were completely annihilated.
The tip of the pyramids in Egypt.
Annihilation Mark was bald and one-eyed, his body wreathed in faint dark energy fluctuations.
His ability was not strength, nor speed, but "erasure"—to completely wipe the target out from a physical level in the most clean and efficient way.
His personality was gloomy, his strikes ruthless and merciless; he never talked nonsense and never left anyone alive.
He flicked his finger, and an invisible burst of energy pierced through the ancient pyramid.
This miracle, which had stood for thousands of years, collapsed from within; yellow sand and rubble swept across the entire desert, turning the resting place of the pharaohs into a mass grave.
Famous historical sites around the globe, symbols of human civilization—the Great Wall, Big Ben, the Colosseum, the Taj Mahal—at this moment, all became playthings for these Viltrum butchers.
The flames of war swept through every city; wails and explosions intertwined into a symphony of doomsday, the sky was dyed dark red, the Earth trembled, and the sea Water boiled.
The young heroes of humanity finally assembled.
The boy who controlled Fire, the girl who commanded storms, the Guardian with abnormal strength—they carried the belief of protecting the world, rushing toward those rampaging variants without hesitation.
This was the only resistance they could offer.
Even knowing they were no match, even knowing they would die, they had to stand up.
Because they were heroes.
But this courage, in the face of absolute power, appeared so pale and ridiculous.
The Fire boy condensed raging flames and rushed toward Evil Mark.
Those flames were enough to melt steel, enough to evaporate rivers, enough to turn any creature into ashes—but Evil Mark didn't even turn his side; he just raised his hand casually and pinched his neck.
He applied a little force with his knuckles.
A crisp sound of bone cracking rang out, the boy's body hung limply, and he was casually discarded into the ruins.
The sound of him hitting the ground was very light, as light as a falling leaf.
The storm girl tried to kick up a hurricane to stop Omni-Mark.
The gale howled, lightning flashed, enough to uproot an entire street—Omni-Mark flashed, instantly appearing before her, and punched through her chest.
Her body hovered in mid-air for a moment, then fell like a bird with broken wings.
The remaining young heroes were also slaughtered in an instant.
No stalemate, no maneuvering, only a one-sided massacre.
Their blood spilled onto the ruins, mixing with the blood of those ordinary people, indistinguishable from one another.
Amidst the devastated ruins.
Angstrom Levy wore a gray trench coat, standing silently amidst the smoke of war.
His hair was disheveled by the wind, his trench coat covered in dust, but his eyes were bright—that brightness was not hope, but fanaticism.
A smile hung at the corner of his mouth, as if he were admiring an oil painting he had painted himself.
His gaze looked toward the horizon, his eyes carrying a faint trace of anticipation.
He was waiting.
Waiting for that true Invincible who belonged to him to return.
This feast of destruction that swept across the globe was, after all, a good show directed single-handedly by him.
He wanted to let Mark Grayson of the original Universewatch with his own eyes as his world was torn apart, hear with his own ears as his compatriots died in wails, and personally experience that kind of helpless despair.
Chapter 196: This Is the Noblest Love
A violent figure suddenly appeared behind him.
It was the bloodthirsty Striped Mark.
His eyes were crimson, the killing intent surrounding him had completely spiraled out of control, and his reason had been devoured by bloodthirsty desire.
He could no longer distinguish friend from foe, nor target, only wanting to kill, kill, kill!
Without a word, a punch filled with destructive power smashed straight through Angstrom's body.
Blood gushed out, exploding into a scarlet flower in the air.
Angstrom's body slumped to the ground, his life extinguished instantly.
His eyes were still open, a faint smile hanging on the corners of his mouth, as if saying — 'It's okay.'
The void twisted slightly.
A brand new Angstrom stepped slowly out of the spatial rift.
He looked at his own corpse on the ground and helplessly raised a hand to rub his messy hair.
"Don't waste my energy."
His tone carried a hint of exhaustion, his brows slightly furrowed.
"Traveling through dimensions is such a headache. The feeling is just like tearing one's soul apart~"
Not far away, a ragged little boy curled up in the ruins, watching him while trembling all over.
The little boy's face was covered in ash, his tears washing out two white tracks through the dust.
His clothes were torn, and there was a bleeding wound on his arm, but his eyes were bright.
The little boy gathered his courage, speaking with a sobbing voice.
"Was it you... did you cause all of this?"
Angstrom turned his head, a gentle smile appearing on his face as he nodded slightly.
"That's right."
The little boy's tears instantly gushed out as he pointed at him and cried out loudly.
"You are a bad person! You are a villain!"
Angstrom was not angry, nor did he offer any defense.
He slowly crouched down, meeting the little boy's gaze, his voice soft yet firm.
"Look at this destruction."
He reached out, pointing to the burning ruins behind him.
"But at the same time, from now on, people will never trust the Invincible again! Only humans can save humanity, not some alien! Possessing the memories and wisdom of countless parallel worlds, I will lead you to build a more perfect empire upon these ruins."
His eyes were strikingly bright.
"This is my love for this planet. Love for one's fellow man is the noblest love."
The little boy stared at him blankly, his crying gradually stopping.
He couldn't understand those big principles, but he understood the last sentence — 'Love for one's fellow man is the noblest love.'
This person who destroyed his home was talking about love.
Angstrom reached out and gently pulled him into an embrace.
The embrace was warm and broad, like a father hugging his own child.
He raised his hand to open a soft blue portal; behind the door was a peaceful and warm shelter, with food, water, beds, and lights.
"Go to a safe place. You will be a new life, and together we will see the better new world built upon these ruins."
He gently sent the little boy into the portal.
The next moment, the boy was already in the warm shelter, surrounded by countless other surviving children like him; their eyes still held fear, but they were already beginning to flicker with the light of hope.
Meanwhile, in every corner of the city, more children who couldn't be saved vanished forever in the ruthless destruction.
Their hands had not yet been held, their names had not yet been remembered, and their lives had already turned to ash in the smoke of war.
Minor heroes all over the world were still putting up futile resistance.
City Guardians, street vigilantes, self-proclaimed superpowered heroes — they all charged toward the Invincible variants, wanting to fight for a sliver of hope for humanity.
Their abilities were diverse: some could manipulate metal, some could fire energy blasts, and some could enlarge their bodies.
Their courage was commendable, their convictions respectable.
But their attacks couldn't even scratch the skin of the variants.
Evil Mark waved his hand casually, turning a group of heroes into pulp.
Their bodies exploded in the air, blood and gore splattering onto the ruins, mixing with the building debris.
Omni-Mark moved coldly across the battlefield; wherever he passed, life withered away, and not a single drop of blood stained his suit.
The mere pressure emitted by Emperor Mark caused countless heroes' bodies to explode, as if an invisible giant hand had crushed them into powder.
There was no suspense.
All resistance only accelerated the arrival of death.
The scene suddenly shifted.
Inside a dilapidated TV studio, there were splattered bloodstains and severed limbs everywhere.
Severed arms, legs, heads, and torsos were scattered around the broadcast desk, spreading a dark red carpet across the floor.
The air was thick with the strong smell of blood, mixed with the stench of smoke and burning, making one nauseous.
Black Mark stood slowly in the center of the ruins, a playful smile on his face.
There wasn't a speck of dust on his black trench coat, and the sapphire on his cuff still shone brilliantly under the dim light.
He looked toward the corner at the battered, helplessly collapsed Cecil, his smile growing even wider.
"It ends like this after all. In another parallel world you couldn't do anything, and here you still can't do anything."
Cecil gritted his teeth, his eyes full of despair and anger, yet he didn't even have the strength to lift a finger.
The right side of his face — that skin-grafted area — had been split open in the battle, revealing the dark red muscle tissue underneath.
His suit was torn to rags, his body covered in bruises and lacerations, but his eyes were still burning.
Black Mark chuckled, raising a hand to tap the communicator by his ear.
He adjusted his tone and spoke slowly into the communicator.
"Hey, hey, my fellow variant scum, can you hear me?"
In an instant, countless violent, cold, and mocking responses came through the communicators from all over the globe.
These were the voices of all the Invincible variants that had descended upon Earth — some vulgar, some cold, some insane, some calm.
But in every voice, there was the same thing. Killing intent.
The smile on Black Mark's face became increasingly crazed, and in those black eyes burned a kind of flame that transcended mere fanaticism, a nearly divine fire.
He spread his arms, as if embracing the entire burning sky.
"Continue the destruction, everyone! This is the final carnival!"
His voice suddenly rose, like thunder, like war drums, like the horn of the apocalypse.
"Gentlemen, I love destruction! I love destroying planets, crushing civilizations, and slaughtering all resistance. In the sky, on the ground, upon the ruins, I enjoy every thorough annihilation. Watching this Earth tremble before us, watching human pride turn to dust, watching all life be completely erased — this is supreme pleasure!"
He took a deep breath, the arc of his mouth splitting almost to his ears.
"My fellow countrymen, my fellow Invincible Young Heroes who share my origin! Isn't this the destruction you crave? An ultimate destruction that makes even the parallel Universes tremble!"
His arm swung down violently, like an emperor pronouncing a death sentence.
"Then answer me! Tear this planet apart, erase all life!"
His voice echoed in the studio, echoed over the ruins, and echoed under the entire burning sky.
"Let Earth henceforth become a dead silence in the Universe!"
Chapter 197: The One and Only Through All Ages
"Is that so?!"
Simultaneously, an utterly frigid voice sounded from behind Angstrom.
The voice was not loud, but each word seemed chiseled from ancient ice, carrying a kind of essential power that transcended language itself.
It did not emerge from a throat, but descended from the depths of a soul, from the far end of the Universe, from some indescribable, supreme dimension.
Almost instantly, Angstrom recalled who the owner of this voice was.
There could be no mistake; no variant of Invincible could produce such a sound!
So vast, so confident, so majestic.
As if a divine emperor descended upon the world, as if the Universe itself were speaking, as if the roar of billions of stars burning simultaneously.
"Is it you?!"
Angstrom turned his head with a smile.
The corner of his mouth still held that gentle, fatherly-looking smile.
His eyes still held that long-awaited excitement of finally seeing his prey take the bait.
In the next second, his head was shattered by a fist.
Not cracked, not dented, but utterly exploded.
Red, white, and gray splattered in all directions, like a flower of crimson and pallor abruptly blooming in the void.
The headless corpse swayed, then collapsed with a crash onto the ruins, raising a cloud of dust.
Angstrom's soul still sought to return from the endless parallel worlds.
This was his final trump card, the ultimate secret that allowed him to remain "alive" after being killed countless times.
His consciousness, his memories, his obsessions had long been bound to countless versions of himself across parallel worlds.
As long as one Angstrom still lived, he could return from death, like a phoenix, like a reincarnator.
But this time, during his soul's journey, he suddenly heard a fierce, shrill neigh.
It was the cry of a noble horse!
That sound pierced through the barriers of space-time, through the divides of parallel Universes, through the boundary between life and death!
It was not emitted in the physical world, but detonated simultaneously on the conceptual level, the level of rules, the level of causality.
The noble horse expels all external forces!
The endless parallel worlds began to collapse.
Those branch Universes born from Angstrom's superpower, those parallel timelines dependent on his existence for their own, now crumbled one after another like dominoes.
Skies shattered, lands sank, stars extinguished, time stagnated.
Not destroyed, but "erased"—thoroughly wiped away from the physical level, the causal level, the very foundation of existence.
"No! This is impossible! Why—why do you possess world-level power?!"
Angstrom's soul roared in the void.
His voice echoed amidst the collapsing parallel Universes, carrying despair that was unbelievable, incomprehensible, and unacceptable.
"It can't be! Among the endless parallel worlds, not a single you possesses such power!"
He had schemed for so long, pondered for so long, strived for so long.
He had traversed thousands of parallel worlds, gathered the wisdom of thousands of himself, and planned this ultimate destruction sweeping across the multiverse.
He had calculated everything, rehearsed everything, prepared everything.
Yet in the end, all of it could not withstand a single punch from Mark.
"That's why they are parallel Universes."
Mark's voice came from the void, calm as an ancient well, steadfast as a mountain.
"And I—"
His figure manifested within the endless reaches of space-time.
Like an ancient god stepping out of myth, his form wreathed in golden light, the phantom images of the twelve talismans appearing behind him.
"Am the one and only through all ages!"
As Angstrom's soul was utterly extinguished, InvincibleMark Grayson retracted his fist.
He did not pause for even a moment.
In the next second, he charged toward locations all across the world!
The twelve phantom images of animal powers converged behind him!
The agility of the rat, the solidity of the ox, the ferocity of the tiger, the swiftness of the rabbit, the savagery of the dragon, the stealth of the snake, the healing of the horse, the astral projection of the sheep, the transformation of the monkey, the levitation of the rooster, the immortality of the dog, the searing heat of the pig.
Ultimate speed, ultimate strength, limitless energy, limitless recovery.
In that moment, he seemed to embody light itself!
A golden horizon spread across the Earth's surface.
Not the sun rising from the east, not the afterglow setting in the west, but pure, ultimate golden light—like the first light at the dawn of creation—simultaneously erupting from within Mark's body: from his burning Smart Atoms, from his circulating solar particles, from the miniature cosmos that existed within him.
Invincible traversed all, transcended all!
Mohawk Mark was still laughing maniacally.
He stood atop a collapsed skyscraper, overlooking the burning city beneath his feet, reveling in the wails of the ant-like masses fleeing in panic.
In his hand, he still clutched a severed arm torn from someone—whose, he didn't know—blood dripping down his wrist, blooming dark red flowers on the ruins beneath his feet.
A cruel smile hung on his lips; his eyes burned with bloodthirsty flames.
In the next second, he saw Invincible charging toward him.
The speed was too fast. Too fast for his retina to form an image, too fast for his nerves to transmit the signal, too fast for his consciousness to react—the light was already before him.
He had never seen a version of himself so magnificent, so powerful, so resplendent.
Within that breathtaking figure, it seemed Heat Vision was about to surge forth in the very next instant, vaporizing him along with the building beneath his feet.
Chapter 198: I Have It Too!
"You think you're the only one with Heat Vision? I have it too!"
Mohawk Mark didn't hesitate for even a moment.
He had realized that this Invincible, brimming with Noble Qi, originated from this Universe—the so-called Prime Mark.
This displeased him greatly.
Why are you the Prime Mark?!
Why are you the one and only across eternity?!
Why do you have everything I have?!
Because Mark Grayson had obtained Heat Vision, an intangible causality had rippled through countless parallel Universes, granting similar abilities to countless variants of the Invincible.
But all of this was a counterfeit!
A crimson Heat Vision shot from Mohawk Mark's eyes, carrying the sound of tearing air, killing intent, and the jealousy and rage he had accumulated across countless worlds, charging straight at Mark Grayson!
Two golden-red pillars of light, like swords of judgment, tore through the air, tore through the darkness, tore through everything in their path.
Mark swung his hand in a single chop, a Viltrumite Hand Chop that shattered Mohawk Mark's Heat Vision outright!
The crimson pillar of light exploded against the edge of his palm, shattering into countless tiny points of light, like broken glass scattering across the night sky.
Not waiting for the next blast of Heat Vision, Mark had already slapped Mohawk Mark across the face!
"SMACK—!!!"
The sound wasn't a'smack,' but a 'BOOM'—the explosive roar of air being instantly displaced, the groan of bones under immense force, the brittle crack of dignity being shattered by a single slap.
Mohawk Mark was sent flying, tumbling over a dozen times through the air before crashing into the ruins of a building, sending up a cloud of dust and debris.
"Do you enjoy hearing screams?"
Mark's figure appeared before him like a ghost, looking down at him from above.
"Do you enjoy playing with Heat Vision?"
He grabbed Mohawk Mark by the throat and lifted him from the rubble.
"Do you enjoy destroying my Earth?!"
Mark pressed both hands against Mohawk Mark's head.
His ten fingers clamped down like iron vices, gripping the sides of his skull.
In that moment, Mohawk Mark felt fear.
It was a type of fear he had never experienced before—pure, primal, emanating from the depths of his soul.
He saw the face of the person before him—contorted, teeth gritted, filled with a furious rage that seemed ready to tear him apart.
This wasn't a fight, nor was it punishment—it was an outpouring, the eruption of a Guardian's indescribable, volcanic fury upon seeing his home destroyed and his people slaughtered.
Feeling the terrifying pressure on both sides of his head, Mohawk Mark had no doubt the other could crush his skull like a ripe watermelon with a single squeeze.
"No, no, wait!"
In that instant, Mohawk Mark made a decision driven purely by self-preservation.
"I'm your variant! We can talk!"
He begged for mercy, even wailed, discarding all dignity.
His voice trembled, his body trembled, his soul trembled.
The butcher who, just a moment ago, had been laughing maniacally, killing, reveling in the thrill of destruction, now cowered like a stray dog in Mark's palm, shivering.
But Mark's gaze never once fell upon him.
Mark looked down at the city of broken walls and ruins, at his people wailing.
He saw a woman kneeling before a collapsed apartment building, her hands frantically clawing through shattered bricks, nails broken and bleeding, shouting two names—likely her children's.
He saw an old man on a torn-up street, holding the body of a child, expressionless, eyes hollow, like a stone statue.
He even saw several children digging through the rubble, calling for their parents.
Their parents were dead; these children had become orphans.
Within a few breaths, even Mark fell silent.
He simply stood there, dumbstruck, listening to the children's wails below.
The sounds weren't loud, but each one pierced his heart like a knife.
"Dad... Mom..."
"Where are you..."
"I'm so scared..."
Mohawk Mark didn't even dare to boast anymore, didn't even dare to beg for mercy.
For some reason, he felt a growing sense of dread.
It wasn't fear, but something more fundamental, more primal—an instinctive shudder like that of prey spotted by a predator.
"I admit—Angstrom hurt me."
Mark spoke, word by word.
His voice was quiet, but each word seemed squeezed from between gritted teeth, carrying a suppressed, explosive rage.
In that moment, he even felt some regret for using the Horse Talisman to banish Angstrom directly.
If he had known, if he had only known—he would have tortured him beyond recognition, until every Angstromacross all parallel worlds was utterly destroyed!
"I should have! I should have!"
His voice suddenly rose.
"You enjoy hearing wails, do you?"
Mark lifted Mohawk Mark up.
At that moment, Mohawk Mark clearly saw the differences between his own Heat Vision and Mark's.
Mark's Heat Vision shimmered with gold!
Not crimson, not dark red, but an ultimate, pure gold-red, like the core of a star!
It was the color of solar particles, the power that had truly overcome the Viltrumites' fatal weakness, the genuine Mark that a counterfeit could never imitate!
The next second, a terrifying Heat Vision, mixed with the Cyclops power of the pig talisman and the infinite explosive force of the dragon talisman, shot from Mark's eyes straight into Mohawk Mark's eye sockets!
"AAAAAAHHHH—!"
Mohawk Mark howled in agony.
The sound was so shrill it seemed inhuman, like a scream from the deepest pits of hell.
His eyeballs exploded within their sockets, his optic nerves severed by the intense heat, his lenses shredded by the energy.
Mark's Heat Vision directly destroyed his central nervous system and eye lenses!
Mark slammed Mohawk Mark heavily into the ground.
The Earth cracked, rubble flying.
He bent down, reached out, and with five fingers, seized Mohawk Mark's spine—muscles tore, bones fractured, and the entire spine was ripped from the flesh and blood by Mark's sheer force!
Blood gushed out like a fountain, tracing a dark red arc in the night sky.
Mark casually flung the still-dripping spine aside, like a discarded broken sword.
The next second, he shot skyward once more!
Evil Mark, amidst the crowd, had torn off a man's thick arm and was gleefully laughing as he ripped into it with his teeth.
His teeth crunched through bone, blood flowing from the corners of his mouth, staining his chin and suit.
His eyes were filled with a maddened glee, like a child lost in his own twisted amusement.
The next second, his head was pierced by a section of spine.
The long spine, like a battle spear, entered through his mouth and pierced straight through the top of his skull!
It was too fast. His smile was still frozen on his face, his eyes still held their maddened light, his body hadn't even realized it was already dead.
Mark tore off one of Evil Mark's thighs.
While the other was still alive—yes, Viltrumite vitality was that tenacious; even with a pierced brain, the heart still beat, consciousness still flickered—he dismembered him with his bare hands!
Without a moment's pause, without uttering another threat.
His figure vanished from the spot once again!
Over the communicator, the wails of Mark variants kept coming.
Almost every three or four seconds, a variant Mark would let out a piercing scream.
The screams came from all over the globe, from New Yorkto Tokyo, from London to Cairo, from ruin to ruin, from blood pool to blood pool.
Black Mark remained in the broadcast room, muttering to himself in disbelief.
"This has to be a joke..."
His voice was very soft, almost inaudible.
His eyes were wide open, pupils slightly contracted, lips slightly parted, his whole body like a statue instantly frozen.
Unlike Black Mark's silence, laughter came from the other side.
"Hahaha..."
Cecil lay on the ground, laughing hoarsely.
His face was covered in blood and grime, his suit torn to shreds, his limbs torn off by Black Mark, stumps still oozing blood.
But his eyes were startlingly bright, his grin stretching from ear to ear.
Chapter 199: We Have Our Own Omni-Man
"Hahahahahaha!"
He laughed louder and louder, more and more wildly, even dancing with joy.
Even though his hands and feet were broken, his body writhed, his shoulders shook, and his entire frame trembled along with his laughter.
"My god, come over here and wipe my tears!"
His voice was hoarse and trembling, but every word was filled with malice.
"No, I can't take it, that shocked look on your face is just too funny!"
Despite his broken limbs, Cecil was still rolling on the ground with laughter.
His severed limbs scraped against the ruins, dragging streaks of dark red blood across the ground; it was a rather grotesque sight.
But in Black Mark's eyes, this was the ultimate provocation!
He was in front of Cecil almost instantly, hoisting him up from the ground.
His fingers gripped his collar, lifting him into the air to look him in the eye.
"What's the deal with this Mark?"
His voice was low and urgent, as if questioning, yet also seeking confirmation.
"It takes him barely a second to cross a continent, another two seconds or so to lock onto the enemy's exact location, and one more second to kill them!"
He paused, his voice carrying a hint of something he didn't want to admit—unease.
"Are you kidding me? We're his Variants!"
"Variants? Hah, as if you're worthy?!"
Cecil's eyes stared straight at Black Mark, the curl of his lips deepening.
"Pah!"
He spat right in Black Mark's face.
The spit, mixed with blood and sticky, hung on the bridge of Black Mark's nose and trickled down his cheek.
Black Mark choked Cecil.
His fingers tightened, knuckles turning white.
"You think I don't dare to kill you?!"
"Hehe, then go ahead and kill me~"
Cecil continued to grin.
His face flushed red from lack of oxygen, and his voice grew shrill as his throat was squeezed, but his smile didn't falter in the slightest.
He thoroughly enjoyed Black Mark's current state.
"I told you long ago, our world has its own Omni-Man!"
Cecil lay on the ground, blood still seeping from his broken limbs, yet his voice was as loud as if he were barking orders from a reviewing stand.
His face was covered in blood, his suit torn to rags, and his body riddled with bruises and gashes, but his eyes shone with startling intensity, and his grin stretched from ear to ear.
"I've witnessed that boy's growth with my own eyes! Hahahahaha..."
He laughed out loud, his laughter echoing through the ruins like an old crow letting out its final, most jubilant caw at the end of the world.
"The facts prove it! None of you piece-of-shit Variants are anything like him!"
He was laughing because he heard the most beautiful sound in the world.
Inside Black Mark's Communicator, countless wails rang out, one after another, as dense as heavy rain hitting a tin roof.
Every wail represented the fall of a Variant Mark; every second, a new demon was wiped from the Earth.
Then, Mark's steady voice came through the Communicator.
"Hey, Cecil, you hear that?
I've returned to Earth and finished clearing them all out, except for the one on your end."
The voice was as calm as water, devoid of anger or exhaustion.
There was only a natural composure, like an emperor announcing state affairs.
"Now close your eyes, or you'll have to get eye transplants."
The same voice rang out in Black Mark's ears.
It didn't come from the Communicator, but from the sky—from all directions—from every corner simultaneously.
It was a real, physical sound, a true echo of air vibrations reaching the eardrums.
Black Mark released his grip on Cecil.
That hand hung in mid-air, fingers still trembling slightly.
He looked around in shock, his gaze like a blade sweeping over every ruin, every crack, and every wisp of smoke.
His Super Vision was operating frantically, trying to locate Mark's form.
Meanwhile, Cecil quite cleverly scrambled to a corner, clutched his head, shut his eyes tight, and buried his head between his knees.
The posture was like an ostrich burying its head in the sand, but at this moment, it was the wisest choice.
"Where are you?!"
Black Mark's voice exploded in the empty ruins, carrying an agitation he didn't want to admit.
"I know your speed! You should have arrived here long ago, right? Come out! Mark Grayson! Come out!"
He furiously unleashed slashes in all directions.
Invisible ripples spread through the air—not one or two, but dozens, hundreds!
These slashes were as dense as a rainstorm and as violent as a hurricane.
They radiated from Black Mark's body, slicing the already teetering buildings into pieces.
Walls fractured, pillars collapsed, and concrete fragments fell like rain.
The entire building was nearly reduced to rubble.
Cecil dragged two Reanimates' corpses over himself.
The strength of those corpses, while far inferior to a Viltrumite's, was enough to serve as a temporary safe house.
Bullets couldn't pierce them; shells couldn't blast them apart.
Endless slashes radiated from Black Mark's body.
Vibrations spread across the entire district; buildings turned to ash, streets were sliced into fragments, and the whole area was hacked to pieces.
The skyscrapers that once stood tall now fell like toppled dominoes, one after another, crumbling and turning to dust.
"Ha... ha..."
Black Mark flew in the air, panting heavily.
His chest heaved violently, sweat dripped from his forehead, and his black trench coat fluttered in the wind.
Most of the city's buildings were leveled under his slashes; the Earth was torn open, revealing the bare ground, and the entire surface had sunken in.
Except for the area beneath his feet.
That area was perfectly intact.
But at this moment, he still couldn't see Mark's silhouette.
"Hey, you! You're not scared of me, are you?! Huh?!"
Black Mark shouted at his surroundings, his voice echoing continuously through the empty ruins.
Like the echo of a stone thrown into a well.
Ripple after ripple, growing weaker and weaker, finally vanishing into the sound of the wind.
Chapter 200: I Am the Original Body!
"Know your place, Variant."
An indifferent voice rang out from above Black Mark's head.
The voice wasn't loud, but every word sounded as if it were carved from eternal ice.
It carried an essential power that transcended language itself.
It did not originate from a throat, but descended from the depths of the soul, the end of the Universe, and some indescribable supreme dimension.
Black Mark raised his head.
Then, he saw that in the sky at this very moment, there were actually...
Two suns!
One was a star, hanging at the edge of the horizon, slowly sinking and dyeing the entire sky a warm orange-red.
The other was directly above his head!
Closer, brighter, and hotter than the star!
That was no celestial body, but a person.
Mark stood tall in the high heavens, holding a massive solar fireball with one hand.
It was an energy sphere formed by the continuous convergence of pure solar particles.
Golden-red light flowed across its surface, while its interior surged with enough heat to evaporate oceans.
That was...
The Great Sun of the Mortal Realm!
"At this moment, you are the challenger."
Mark's voice fell from above like a judgment, a sentence, a divine oracle.
"And in this heaven and earth—"
He paused, his eyes burning with golden-red flames as he stared straight at Black Mark.
"I alone am honored!"
Mark softly finished his final sentence and pointed downward with one hand.
The golden sun descended toward the earth!
The energy sphere, condensed from endless solar particles, plummeted from the high sky, trailing a long, comet-like tail of light as it smashed directly toward Black Mark!
Endless radiance lit up, and golden light washed over the horizon, as if welcoming dusk, yet also as if welcoming dawn.
The light was so dazzling, so searing, and so unstoppable.
It was as if the entire sun had been dragged down from the heavens to strike this already devastated earth.
Endless solar particles spread across the surface, radiating in all directions.
But the ultimate heat was currently crashing down upon Black Mark!
"Is this the Prime Universe?"
Black Mark looked up at the falling sun; there was no fear or retreat on his face, only a pure, heartfelt excitement.
"As expected of the center of all Variant Universes! This Prime Universe version of me is truly powerful beyond compare!"
The corners of his mouth curled into a frantic arc.
"However—"
He raised his hand, pressing his index and middle fingers together in front of him, facing the golden sun descending toward the ground.
"At this moment, I am so full of passion! Yes, this is exactly what I expected! As someone capable of crossing parallel Universes, I naturally won't lose to the Prime Universe!"
Countless slashes brewed at his fingertips.
It wasn't hundreds per second, but thousands!
Those slashes were compressed, overlaid, and condensed into a single strike, a single instant!
Exhausting all his stamina, all his spirit, everything to the limit!
And then, the slashes underwent a qualitative change.
Black Mark could feel it.
The golden sun was already before his fingertips; he could feel the intense energy hitting his face, as if he were facing the solar core directly.
His skin was burning, his hair was curling, and the air was boiling.
But a wild smile remained on his face because that single slash had finished condensing!
It was a slash that surpassed all previous ones, realized only at the thin line between life and death!
It seemed infinite, transforming into his kingdom through the act of slashing!
Heat rushed at him, his arms were scorched by the flames, his body was burning, flesh was carbonizing, bones were being exposed, and pain was screaming.
But at the final moment, Black Mark's voice rang out clearly:
"Domain Expansion..."
"Magatsu Decisive Slash!"
Something new appeared within the sun.
Mark narrowed his eyes and looked down.
Because within the sun that should have been infinitely bright, he saw a ring of black.
That black was not a shadow or a dark side, but a deeper, more essential existence that swallowed everything like a black hole.
It spread from the core of the sun like a drop of ink in clear water, like a crack creeping across ice, like a wound slicing across skin.
Infinite and boundless, it formed a circular black domain.
"Heh."
Mark's voice came from above, carrying a hint of surprise and a touch of appreciation.
"You truly are the strongest born among all parallel Universes. To think you'd use a mid-battle breakthrough technique like something out of a shonen novel."
In the next second, the black circular domain shattered.
No, it wasn't shattering—it was more accurately an active diffusion.
The black circular domain bloomed like a flower, surged like a tide, and descended like the night curtain.
Those black slashes...
No, they were a collective of slashes, a sublimation of slashes, the ultimate form of a slash!
They transformed into countless black blades, directly cleaving and dispersing the heaven-covering sun!
The red sun shattered.
The golden radiance between heaven and earth dissipated, turning into countless falling golden sparks like a meteor shower, like fireworks, like the final sigh of a dying star.
And amidst those drifting golden points of light, Black Mark stood composed and elegant, treading upon the black circular domain as he stood tall in the sky!
His clothes were burned away, his skin was charred black, and his body was covered in carbonized cracks.
But his eyes!
Those eyes were incredibly bright, like two stars burning in the darkness.
He spread his arms and let out a long roar to the sky:
"Magatsu lightning shatters the sky, one blade sweeps all laws."
"Claiming to be peerless in this world, who knew the throne originally belonged to me."
"False names of'strongest' are all straw dogs, petty skills are laughable and ignorant."
"From now on, no enemies in the three realms, alone ruling the Universe, proud of the blue sky!"
"Hahahahaha!"
His laughter echoed through the sky, making the very air tremble.
"This feeling is truly wonderful! As the ancient texts say, there is great terror at the line of death, but also great opportunity!"
"Original Body, I thank you!"
"If not for you, I would never have reached the realm of soul and flesh as one, and I could never have mastered the unity of heaven and man so skillfully!"
"And by using the unity of heaven and man, I have thoroughly forged my immortal body and endless slashes into one!"
Black Mark spread his arms and laughed aloud.
Mark, floating high above, couldn't help but feel a bit speechless watching this scene.
Wait, are you the protagonist or am I?
Isn't this mid-battle breakthrough a bit too much?
Are you freaking cheating?
And why are you reciting ancient poetry?
Are you trying to become a Venerable?
I should have torn your mouth apart earlier!
In the next second, as if responding to Mark, Black Markcontinued to announce loudly:
"With my current strength, I must have a title!"
"The word 'Venerable' has throughout history been reserved only for those of high status and power, those who can suppress an entire region!"
"Respecting heaven and earth above, intimidating all spirits below, with none who can stand as an equal—only then can one be called a 'Venerable'!"
His voice grew more and more high-pitched, like he was reading an imperial decree or proclaiming a heavenly mandate.
"Now, my soul and body have reached the extreme together, stepping into a realm unprecedented in history!"
"This strike is no simple slash, but one that uses myself as the foundation to evolve the laws of the world; one strike becomes a domain, one slash transforms into the Dao!"
He suddenly raised his head, his eyes burning with black flames as he stared straight at Mark.
"From this day forward, I shall be called the Venerable!"
Black Mark laughed loudly.
At this moment, he was high-spirited to the extreme; he had surpassed all his past selves and stepped into a brand-new realm!
Achieving the Dao through the slash, the next level would be transforming his body into a world!
Clap, clap, clap...
Mark clapped in the air.
The applause was steady and slow, sounding exceptionally crisp under the empty sky.
"Good. Quite the 'unprecedented in history,' quite the 'mortal body becoming a Venerable'!"
"Are you still so indifferent even now, Original Body!? As expected of the original, your magnanimity is indeed great!"
As soon as Black Mark finished his praise, he sent a black slash toward Mark in the next second!
That slash already had form and substance, as if it were the manifestation of the Great Dao.
It didn't originate from Black Mark's fingertips, but was directly condensed from the void, from the laws, and from some existence that transcended the physical plane.
It had no trajectory, no speed, and no distance!
It simply appeared, and it was already in front of Mark.
"No one can escape this slash, and no one can block it!"
Black Mark shouted arrogantly.
He acknowledged Mark's greatness; even now, he couldn't achieve the level of transforming his body into a sun.
The other was practically the darling of the sun, a true Son of the Sun!
Even now, his physical strength was something Black Markcouldn't hope to match.
However, there was now a difference in their very essence!
"What I lack in quantity, I shall make up for with quality!"
Looking at the black slash right in front of him, Mark gently raised his hand and swatted downward.
The movement was very light and slow, as if he were shooing away a fly.
But on the other shore of the soul, in the depths of consciousness, and in some dimension transcending time and space—
A high-pitched horse neigh rang out.
"Noble Horse, remove all external forces!"
Chapter 201: This is Infinity!
Invisible ripples spread!
That was the sacred power of the Noble Steed, spreading outward from Mark's palm like ripples on a lake, like a Nebula spreading across the starry sky.
The ripples had no color, no temperature, and no sound, yet they carried an irresistible majesty that made the soul tremble.
It wasn't energy or matter, but something more fundamental, more primal, touching the underlying laws of the world.
The moment the black blade qi encountered the ripples, the Dark Energy eroded!
Those black blades condensed from slashes, powerful enough to tear space, melted away silently like frost under a blazing sun, disintegrating and returning to nothingness before the ripples.
They weren't destroyed, but "negated"—as if they had never existed.
Mark remained suspended high in the sky, as if standing alone in the world.
His red cape fluttered gently in the wind, his black hair was lifted by the air currents, and a faint golden light wrapped around his body.
He stood there like an ancient god stepping out of myth, looking down upon the world beneath his feet.
Countless air blades rushed toward him from all directions—from the gaps in the ruins, from behind collapsed buildings, and from the scorched earth.
Those were the aftershocks of Black Mark's previous slashes, the last lingering killing intent on this battlefield.
But the ripples also spread from his body in all directions, centered on him, ring after ring, layer after layer, like an untiring tide.
The moment the air blades touched the ripples, they shattered, dissipated, and vanished into nothing.
The field was cleared with a single word!
"This... what power is this?"
Black Mark hovered in mid-air, the black circular domain around him flickering erratically.
His eyes were wide, his pupils slightly constricted, and his lips parted; he looked like a statue frozen in time.
"Could it be that you have also reached those Prehistoric Worlds and obtained ancient power?!"
His voice trembled—not with fear, but with shock.
He had traveled through countless parallel worlds, seen countless strange abilities, and devoured the blood of countless mythical creatures.
But he had never seen power like this!
A force so pure and fundamental, like a key inserted directly into the lock of the world's underlying foundation.
"Ancient power?"
Mark's voice descended from above, as calm as Water.
"Describing it that way is fitting. However, what I obtained is no simple ancient power."
He paused, his eyes burning with gold-red flames staring straight at Black Mark.
"I am the ruler of a world, the one who broke the balance of Yin and Yang, and ultimately obtained the entire world!"
His voice suddenly rose, like thunder, like war drums, like the first roar at the dawn of creation.
"Words are ultimately shallow and cannot make you understand the great power I possess. Then, feel it for yourself!"
Mark raised his hand toward Black Mark.
He made a grasping motion with one hand, fingers slightly curved as if holding an invisible cup.
Then, a shimmer of light appeared at his fingertips!
That shimmer wasn't gold or white, but an indescribable glow that transcended the spectrum, flowing like an aurora.
It spun at his fingertips, seemingly following a certain rhythm.
Not the rhythm of a clock or a heartbeat, but the rhythm of the Universe itself—of celestial movements, the changing of seasons, and the cycle of life and death.
Incessant, as if never-ending.
That rotation was infinite!
Beginning with endless attraction and repulsion, it covered the sky in a recurring rotation.
Attraction pulled everything around it toward the center, while repulsion pushed everything from the center outward.
Two diametrically opposed forces clashed within the same space, creating an indescribable, twisted, and destructive energy field.
Combined with the Innate Eight Trigrams Mark already possessed!
Qian, Kun, Zhen, Xun, Kan, Li, Gen, Dui!
Using the Eight Trigrams to evolve time, it was naturally a ceaseless, continuous cycle.
Heaven and Earth, Thunder and Wind, Water and Fire, Mountain and Marsh—eight powers flowed around him, interdependent and mutually constraining, like a miniature Universe.
Although Mark couldn't turn the cycle of reincarnation into a single pure strike, he could still use gravity to mimic it.
Despite lacking the power of reincarnation to recreate the world, endless attacks and endless tracking—these two points could still be achieved through imitation.
The blue light sphere grew larger and larger!
It wasn't an ordinary blue, but a blue like the deepest ocean trench, like the furthest starry sky, like the first shimmer of light born in the sea of void before the birth of the Universe.
It was mass—the ultimate mass gathered from attraction, repulsion, and the sky!
At this moment, because he was using the power of the sky, Mark's eyes took on a deep blue hue, as if the sky were reflected in his pupils.
Those eyes were no longer black or gold-red, but a pure, deep blue, like a cloudless clear sky.
Black Mark watched Mark, watching all the air currents around him converge toward his fingertips, toward that blue sphere!
Those currents weren't wind, but energy, matter, and space itself!
They surged from all directions, captured by the rotating gravitational field, compressed, and condensed!
Injected into that sphere that was becoming brighter, denser, and heavier.
And through that sphere, he saw Mark's eyes—azure like the clear sky!
"What is this, the Eyes of the Blue Sky?!"
Black Mark whispered in disbelief.
Why did his eyes change color? Was it because he used some kind of energy?
He had been to Prehistoric Worlds and killed countless Mutants, knowing that sometimes humans undergo mutations that might bring about mythic-level powers.
And for some reason, he felt as if he had seen these azure, sky-like pupils in some ancient tome.
That was the legendary "Eye of the Heavenly Dao," which only appeared in those who had mastered the source of the world.
"Take a good look at what it means to transform technique into the Dao!"
Mark's voice was like a judgment, a pronouncement, a divine oracle.
His fingers clenched completely.
The blue sphere contracted once more!
Extreme rotation and constant compression reached the threshold of mass, stepping into the unique Void Realm!
It was no longer matter or energy, but an existence between being and nothingness, transcending physical laws and composed purely of concepts.
The blue light deepened, turning into an extreme purple.
That purple wasn't the purple of flowers or a sunset, but the purple of the most violent Nebula in the depths of the Universe, like the last glimmer of light at the edge of a black hole's event horizon.
"Maximum Technique—"
Mark's voice was low and firm.
"Hollow Purple!"
Chapter 202: Right, I Can Still Cross Over!
A purple sphere shot out from Mark's fingertip!
Not in a straight line, not in an arc, but in a way that transcended the laws of physics.
It appeared in mid-air, then further away, then right in front of Black Mark.
It was as if it wasn't flying, but jumping, teleporting, erasing the concept of distance between one point and another.
Black Mark felt the pressure.
That terror—if he were hit by this strike, he would die!
He already perceived this with absolute clarity.
This sphere was definitely an existence beyond a black hole!
Gravity and repulsion overlapped within it, reaching a domain called "Infinity."
Not infinitely large, not infinitely heavy, but infinitely "persistent."
As long as the target still existed, it would not stop, would not dissipate, and would not be blocked by any force.
Even if he had consumed the Blood Tai Sui and gained a near-immortal body, "near-immortal" would always be just "near."
If hit by this strike, his body would be constantly torn, cut, and crushed!
And this tearing would be eternal and infinite!
Without the slightest hesitation, Black Mark repeatedly unleashed Black Blade Qi, slashing at the sphere.
Each of these blade qis was enough to slice through space, enough to sever the stars.
They poured out like a rainstorm, dense and overwhelming, crashing into the purple sphere!
But—it couldn't be blocked!
The purple sphere moved straight forward, crossing everything, unstoppable!
The Black Blade Qi hit its surface like moths to a flame, instantly shattering, dissipating, and returning to nothingness.
Its speed didn't slow in the slightest, its light didn't dim in the slightest, and its existence wasn't shaken by any force.
"I don't believe it! I don't believe there's really no way to destroy you!"
Black Mark's voice trembled, his body retreated, and his eyes burned.
"No matter how strong an attack is, in the end, it's just a 'technique.' How could it be infinite? Do you think this strike can contain the world?!"
He frantically channeled the power within him—the energy absorbed from the Blood Tai Sui, plundered from countless Mythical Creatures, and comprehended from the Dao of Severing—all surging toward his fingertips.
Countless strands of Black Blade Qi spread from around him, like countless venomous snakes, like countless sharp swords.
He reached forward, and the Black Blade Qi transformed into a dense grid, weaving together to form a massive black net standing before Black Mark.
It was the ultimate Severing! Nothing it couldn't cut!
It turned into a wall.
A wall converged from "Severing," blocking the way before Black Mark as if it could defend against everything in the world!
The purple sphere approached the wall.
The two collided!
The sphere of pure energy emitted a blinding light, like a small sun exploding on the ground.
The wall of Black Blade Qi also emitted a dark light, the two forces clashing frantically at the contact surface—cutting and crushing, tearing and compressing, destruction and annihilation.
The air trembled, the earth cracked, and the sky changed color.
Finally, the sphere was slashed to pieces!
Countless purple lights scattered, turning into a void of purple mist that drifted in the air, like shattered colored glass, like blown dandelions.
"It worked! Severing is also a technique transformed into a Dao! So it is equal to that sphere!
Though that sphere is endless, it will definitely be slashed to pieces!"
Black Mark shouted excitedly, the light of hope rekindling in his eyes.
But he overlooked that the sphere represented "Infinity."
What is Infinity?
Once a target is established, it will track it endlessly.
No matter how its form changes...
Dissipated, shattered, transparent, burrowed into the ground, soared into the sky, teleported to another parallel Universe...
No matter how many reasons or difficulties, the attack never stops!
The infinite attack will eventually reach the target's front!
The purple mist began to swirl.
A faint sound emanated from it, like the friction of something sharp and powerful.
The sound wasn't loud, yet it was like ten thousand bees flapping their wings at once, like ten thousand swords being unsheathed simultaneously.
In the next second, the purple mist seemed to turn into a tornado, gathering and continuing to approach Black Mark.
The mist kept gathering, swirling, and compressing—finally, the purple sphere reappeared!
It was still spinning!
"No—are you kidding me?!"
Black Mark looked at the sphere in horror.
It had already reached him, already touching his body!
"That's why I said it's Infinity."
From a distance, Mark looked at Black Mark, his voice calm as water, as if reading out a predestined conclusion.
"A Saint will always walk the correct path, without bias.
Even if calamity occasionally strikes, a Saint will always overcome it and continue on the correct path."
He had already pronounced the other's death.
Once hit by this infinite strike, unless the opponent also possessed infinite means, escape was absolutely impossible.
This piece of trash who dared to invade his world would be completely torn apart by the infinite attack and vanish from this material world!
"AAAAHHHH—!"
Black Mark collapsed to the ground.
His fingers curled, his body constantly collapsing and reforming.
Purple light flowed over his body, cutting his skin, tearing his muscles, and crushing his bones.
The power of the Blood Tai Sui repaired him frantically, but the speed of repair was far from matching the speed of destruction.
He wailed and crawled, trying to escape the infinite attack on his body.
His nails dug into the charred ground, dragging ten bloody trails behind him.
The skin on his knees was rubbed raw, exposing the white bone beneath.
But he didn't dare stop, couldn't stop, because he knew—stopping meant death.
"Right! Crossing worlds!"
In the midst of his collapse, Black Mark thought of a way.
His eyes suddenly lit up, like a drowning man catching a last straw.
"As long as I go to other worlds, I can definitely escape this Infinity that belongs to this world!"
He gritted his teeth, ignoring the wounds constantly bursting on his body, and mobilized his last bit of power.
The remaining Smart Atoms within him operated frantically, channeling all energy to his fingertips.
He unleashed the ultimate Space Slash!
This slash shattered the barriers between parallel worlds.
It wasn't just slicing space or tearing dimensions, but conceptually, existentially, and causally severing the barrier between "here" and "there."
A rift opened in the Void.
On the other side of the rift were the lights, air, and sky of another world.
Black Mark staggered through it.
The rift closed behind him, and the purple light was isolated in the other Universe.
Chapter 203: I Will Never Lose
New York.
On a bustling street filled with the clamor of voices and heavy traffic, a figure suddenly collapsed to the ground.
It was Manhattan's Fifth Avenue, surrounded by rows of towering skyscrapers under a leaden, gray sky.
Pedestrians bustled about; some held coffee, some walked dogs, and some spoke loudly into their phones.
No one noticed the figure that had suddenly appeared on the street corner—or if they did, they assumed it was just another homeless person.
Black Mark lay on the ground, gasping for breath.
His chest heaved violently, and his lungs wheezed like a broken bellows.
Blood still seeped from his body, but the wounds were healing at a rate visible to the naked eye—the power of the Blood Tai Sui was faithfully at work, even in another world, also.
He realized that since his physical body had completed the crossing between parallel Universes, those infinite attacks had been left behind in the other Universe!
"Hahaha—I succeeded! I shook off those infinite attacks during the crossing!"
Black Mark knelt on the ground, laughing wildly.
His laughter echoed through the street, causing passersby to cast sidelong glances.
His physical strength was extremely low, and his body was still trembling, but he had succeeded—his flesh was recovering at an incredible speed!
The people around him began to whisper and gossip.
"Is this guy an idiot?"
"Should we call the police?"
"Stay away from him; he might be on drugs."
Black Mark's eyes slanted as he swept his gaze over those ant-like mortals.
Just a bunch of mortals...
In the next second, countless slashes erupted from around his body!
It wasn't a targeted attack, but an indiscriminate, all-encompassing outburst, like a hedgehog bristling its quills.
These slashes were as fine as needles and completely silent, not even stirring a ripple in the air.
Before the people on the street could react, they collapsed one after another.
Their bodies were sliced by invisible blades, turning into countless fragments of flesh and blood that spread out like a crimson carpet under the sunlight.
Blood gushed from severed limbs, forming small streams that flowed along the slope of the road and into the sewers.
"Feast quickly, Blood Tai Sui."
Black Mark spoke softly; his physical body had already merged with the Blood Tai Sui.
Therefore, his body could naturally use the Blood Tai Sui's method of recovery—devouring life and converting it into vitality.
The chunks of flesh and blood from the surrounding people were drawn toward Black Mark as if pulled by an invisible gravity.
The moment that flesh and blood touched his skin, it was absorbed, turning into warm energy that surged through his entire body.
He could feel his strength returning, his torn muscles reconnecting, his shattered bones reshaping, and his scorched skin regenerating.
He stood up.
"It was but a single failure; I will surely make a comeback.
I have seen the path ahead and reached an unprecedented realm.
I will definitely surpass you, Original Body! I, Black Mark, am the only Venerable in this world!"
His voice echoed through the deserted street, surrounded by corpses and flowing blood.
Right at that moment, Black Mark's fist suddenly twisted until it struck him in the face.
!?
Nani!?
Black Mark looked at his distorted arm in shock.
He knew all too well what this distortion was—it was Spin! It was the spinning power of that Purple Orb!
It hadn't been left behind in the other Universe; it had followed him here!
His arm continued to bend, twisting like dough.
Bones shattered, muscles tore, and blood seeped from beneath his skin, staining his entire sleeve red.
And this Spin followed the arm, climbing up to Black Mark's shoulder!
"It still managed to track me down?!"
Black Mark cried out.
Without the slightest hesitation, he raised his hand and severed his own right arm with a fierce Viltrumite Hand Chop!
"Puchi—!"
Blood spurted out as the severed arm fell to the ground.
The severed arm continued to twist, be sliced, and rotate on the ground—until it turned into ashes.
Black ashes drifted in the air like dandelions scattered by the wind.
Black Mark panted heavily, cold sweat mixing with blood as it ran down his forehead.
"Did this attack... cross endless parallel Universes to reach me?"
His voice was trembling.
"Damn it, that guy lied to me!
This isn't some 'Transforming Technique into Dao' at all! This is a strike from an Origin World!
That guy has formed a world within himself!"
He looked up at the gray sky, his eyes filled with resentment, anger, and despair.
"Original Body! How could you be so far ahead of me? How can you be so far ahead?!"
Black Mark shouted helplessly at the sky.
But at this moment, the severed arm at Black Mark's feet had been completely destroyed by the infinite power of Spin.
The flesh and blood that once belonged to him turned to ash under the slicing of the purple light; not even a molecule remained.
Yet that infinite Spin power did not vanish with the arm; instead, like a venomous snake finding new prey, it lunged into the ground!
The ground began to surge.
It wasn't an earthquake or a volcano, but something deeper and more fundamental—a distortion as if the earth itself were being kneaded by an invisible hand.
Soil, rock, groundwater—everything rotated, shattered, and evaporated within that infinite Spin power.
The force pierced through the strata, the crust, and every obstacle, like a hot knife through butter or a sharp arrow through thin paper.
The surging ground spread at an alarming speed, reaching Black Mark's feet in the blink of an eye!
"Damn it!"
Black Mark kicked off the ground violently, leaping into the air!
His body flipped in mid-air, his black trench coat flapping in the wind; his eyes were bloodshot, and his lips were trembling.
But the speed of his leap was not as fast as the propagation of the Spin power.
The force had already pierced through the air and reached his body once again!
Purple light exploded on the surface of his body, slicing his skin, tearing his muscles, and crushing his bones.
The power of the Blood Tai Sui repaired him frantically, but the speed of restoration could never catch up with the speed of destruction.
His body cycled repeatedly between collapse and reconstruction, like a pendulum that could never stop.
"No, no, no! I do not accept this ending!"
Black Mark's voice exploded in the void, carrying the despair and madness of a dying beast.
"I will never accept it!"
He grit his teeth and, ignoring the wounds constantly bursting open on his body, threw out another Dimensional Slash.
The void split open, and he stumbled through—not once, but countless times.
Under the shocked gazes of crowds in countless parallel worlds, Black Mark crossed over again and again, was reborn again and again, escaped the infinite Spin again and again, only to be caught up to once more.
He appeared on the streets of Shibuya in Tokyo, by the banks of the River Thames in London, beneath the pyramidof Cairo, and in front of the Sydney Opera House.
People in every world saw this figure covered in blood, his body constantly collapsing and reassembling; some screamed, some fled, and some took out their phones to record.
But Black Mark no longer had the strength to deal with them.
His body was breaking down, his consciousness was blurring, and his soul was trembling.
He knew he was nearing an infinite proximity to death.
"Ah—why won't you just let me go?! How many more worlds do I have to cross?!"
He collapsed powerlessly to the ground, gasping for breath.
His chest heaved violently, and his lungs wheezed like a broken bellows.
There was not a single patch of intact skin left on his body; the wounds were constantly healing under the power of the Blood Tai Sui, only to be repeatedly torn open by the infinite Spin power.
The people around him cast suspicious looks; some whispered, and others pointed.
But Black Mark didn't care anymore.
That infinite Spin power continued to slice through his body.
His limbs were thinning, his torso was shrinking, and his head was deforming.