My Gun Is Not Bad Either

——When the quantum talisman replaced the cinnabar yellow paper, and the electromagnetic flying sword split the nine thunderclouds, every gram of C4 I detonated was reconstructing the source code of the way of heaven. The left hand holds the last jade slip of Sanqing Taoism, and the right arm has a miniature nuclear fusion reactor embedded in it. The world of cultivation laughed at his nanodetonator for tarnishing the orthodoxy, until the miniature hydrogen bomb mushroom cloud that annihilated the old monster Nascent Soul bloomed on the top of Wuliang Mountain. "Traditional monks take three seconds to make a secret." He wiped the scorch marks on the barrel of the electromagnetic rail gun, "but the poor Taoist Gatling, the Great Merciful and Compassionate, saves three thousand resentful souls every second." When the end of the Dharma era hits the technological explosion, this madman who treats the catastrophe as an electromagnetic pulse experiment is washing away the firewall of the thirty-sixth level of the sky with a torrent of data.