MC Creative Mode: Wholesale Perpetual Motion Machine

Chapter 302 The Observer Stops Observing

After the blood corpse was completely defeated, Zhang Kun's last bit of strength finally receded like the tide.

"This smells awful," he sniffed, inhaling the strange stench of a mixture of pungent ozone and rotting odor permeating the air.

As he relaxed, his already weak body went completely limp.

The father and son, who had been reunited for the first time in more than a decade, lay side by side in the shattered wreckage of the train carriage.

The physical changes caused by the dog spirit possession have completely subsided, revealing two equally tall and robust bodies covered in scars.

Blood continued to gush from those gruesome wounds, pooling into shocking pools of blood on the shattered carriage floor.

Zhang Kun could clearly feel his heartbeat becoming weaker and weaker.

He tried desperately to breathe, but no matter how hard he tried, his chest could only rise and fall slightly.

The air was thick with the stench of blood, and every breath felt like swallowing rust.

“Kunzi…” Zhang Biao, who was standing next to him, was already in a daze.

In his final moments, he vaguely saw again the round and adorable face of his youngest son, who had been crying for milk in his wife's arms years ago, and seemed to hear that tender voice calling out "Daddy."

As his consciousness sank deeper into the boundless darkness, he could only let out a helpless sigh in his heart: (I'm afraid I'll never see them again in this lifetime...)
Fate is truly unpredictable. On his deathbed, he longed to see his wife and children, but now, his grown son is miraculously lying beside him, yet he cannot recognize him.

This father and son, who had just reunited but hadn't even had a chance to acknowledge each other, were about to perish together.

A faint call reached his ears, and Zhang Kun used all his strength to barely open his heavy eyelids.

His vision was blurred with blood; he could see nothing but the rapidly fading life force. Hot tears mixed with blood streamed down his face as he weakly murmured, "Father..."

From the time he could remember, Zhang Kun's life consisted only of his grandfather and sister.

When he was young, he didn't think there was anything special about it. It wasn't until he was five or six years old and playing with other children in the village that he gradually began to wonder: why do other families have parents, but his family only has his grandfather and sister?

He later pressed his grandfather for answers but received none. Only after pestering his sister did he learn the truth about what happened back then.

My father died tragically while exorcising evil spirits, and my mother also died of grief not long after.

Childhood memories flashed through my mind like a revolving lantern.

"A wild child without parents, hahaha." The laughter of several disheveled children still seemed to echo in my ears.

Young Zhang Kun didn't hesitate to throw a punch. "My dad's a great hero! What do you know!"

Zhang Kun's childhood was lonely.

Although my grandfather was the most famous shaman in the surrounding area, he was always away from home.

Because of the inconvenient transportation, he would have to stay away from home for ten days to half a month each time he went out, leaving only his sister and him to depend on each other.

The villagers treated the grandfather with utmost respect, and they always greeted the siblings with smiles as well.

But this special treatment caused the village children to distance themselves from Zhang Kun.

In this lonely environment, driven by a certain obsession, he sincerely believed that his father, whom he had never met, must be a great hero, a true man of unwavering integrity.

As the son of a hero, he also wanted to become a strong and upright man, which is why he worked hard to train every day.

Even today, with this unexpected reunion, Zhang Kun felt both gratified and filled with sorrow.

What comforted me was that my father was indeed a man of steel, a true hero who risked his life to save two strangers even when he was seriously injured.

Tragically, the father and son had no chance to recognize each other before they both perished.

With his last breath, he managed to say, "Father, you are a true hero... In the next life, I still want to be your son... cough cough."

"Honey?" He almost choked when the sweet liquid was suddenly stuffed into his mouth.

After swallowing unconsciously, the sudden sweetness brought a slight clarity to my muddled consciousness. I vaguely heard an unfamiliar voice saying, "Hey, are you planning to give up now?"

"This situation is indeed a bit tricky..." the ethereal voice continued.

Fang Zheng looked at the two seriously injured people lying on the ground in front of him, and then looked around at the train station, which was now almost deserted.

For some unknown reason, the blood-soaked corpse escaped during transport. Coupled with the loud noise from the brief but intense battle just now, the crowd in the train station had already scattered and fled.

At the same time, due to the lack of bystanders, the fragile structure of reality, woven from countless complex fragments, collapsed again, forming a closed, independent set.

In the pitch-black night, the moonlight still shone down, but the desolate scene that was once under the moonlight could no longer be seen.

As the life force of the father and son gradually weakened, the surrounding space continued to shrink inward, leaving only churning chaotic mist.

In the once empty train station, the slogans written in bright red paint wriggled along with the twisted and deformed walls, transforming into indescribable shapes as if they were alive.

They are fading, gradually being swallowed up by the emerging chaos.

In the blink of an eye, the only place left to stand was a small area that could barely accommodate Zhang Kun and his son, Fang Zheng, and the still writhing, blood-soaked remains of the corpse on the ground, which was trying to reform.

In this constantly distorting and changing space, the blood corpse that had just been easily defeated also began to change before Fang Zheng's eyes.

From its original ugly state, where a viscous pool of blood covered a rotting corpse, a certain sacred aura gradually emerged.

It seems to be a magnificent collection of countless life forms of different shapes and sizes, symbolizing endless vitality and reproduction.

The surrounding chaotic and unclear things gradually turned a dazzling scarlet color in the process.

Even Fang Zheng's own body began to be stained with this bright red color, which symbolizes endless reproduction and infinite growth.

"Go away, go away!" Fang Zheng waved his hand impatiently as he watched the strange color gradually spreading on his hand.

The crimson phenomenon, which was coalescing into a blood-red humanoid shape, let out a shrill howl. The bright red color instantly dissipated and was instead rapidly eroded and replaced by countless tiny pixel blocks.

However, those pixelated blocks, representing the aggregation of squares themselves, did not continue to erode the surrounding chaos, but stopped just right, merely maintaining the stability of this small space.

"We can't go too far, or we'll be temporarily excluded from this world." Fang Zheng squatted beside the dying father and son, frantically fiddling with the two indistinct clumps of matter inside their bodies. "This is really troublesome. There isn't even a doctor here. If I'm the one to save them, it'll take quite a bit of effort..."

Unlike Zhang Kun's niece.

The child could recover by eating a honey milk candy, but the worldview of this father and son seemed to have become even more rigid.

Fang Zheng fed them honey milk, a food that could forcibly restore health even to powerful beings capable of destroying the world and a universe with a single slap, or to other bizarre life forms. But this time, it had no effect whatsoever.

After a long journey, Fang Zheng, who has thoroughly analyzed his own abilities, has long understood the essential principles of Minecraft items.

It's a kind of analysis and rewriting of the rules of different worlds.

What appears to be a simple "eating food to restore health" is actually the process of the rules of one set of objects exchanging codes when they come into contact with another set through the medium of a Nether portal.

Because different worlds are fundamentally different.

Matter, energy, and even mathematical rules are completely different.

This world might be a deterministic world based on classical atomism, another might be a wave-like world, and yet another might be an endless spacetime inflation field, or an information world holographically projected from a black hole...

The complete incompatibility of the underlying logic makes it as ridiculous as trying to directly stuff paper notes into a hard drive, given the fundamental incompatibility of the underlying logic.

Notes must be transcribed and decoded to be converted into electronic data before they can be stored on a hard drive.

Similarly, the reason why various items can work in worlds with vastly different rules is precisely through this underlying information transcoding. The essence of the item-based health restoration provided by Founder is to analyze the intact state of the target object through underlying transcoding and then directly modify it to that state.

Each prop is essentially a product of an extremely complex process of transcoding, compiling, and rewriting the underlying units of the world, packaged as a black box.

The appearance of the props, whether they are liquid fluids that can be tasted as sweet honey, or simply pixelated blocks that have no tasting process and can be used with a click, are nothing more than app icons.

(End of this chapter)