Chapter 331: The Collapse of the Foundation

That bone-chilling cold did not come from his body, but directly exploded from the deepest part of Sun Wukong's Dao Heart.

Dead end!

A completely reasonless dead end!

Sun Wukong understood!

This monster wearing the Tathagata's skin is not attacking at all!

He is "negating"!

He, using a method Sun Wukong cannot comprehend or touch, is from the root,

Negating the meaning of "change", negating the value of "struggle", negating everything Sun Wukong represents!

Each "negation" is digging at his roots!

Each "protection" is adding soil to his own grave!

This realization makes him feel more powerless and more angry than being pinned in the void by Hongjun's spear of judgment!

"Coward!"

Sun Wukong's teeth grit with a creaking sound, and his golden eyes are filled with uncontrollable madness and ferocity!

"You damn only know how to use these despicable tricks!"

His roar, filled with primal wildness and provocation, tries to drag the opponent down from that lofty "altar".

"If you've got the guts! Let's fight me, Old Sun, fair and square!"

"Let me, Old Sun, see how much weight this stinking sack of skin you crawled out of a cesspool really has!"

However, facing Sun Wukong's naked insults and provocations,

that withered monk remains unmoved.

Those deathly silent black-hole eyes didn't even ripple a bit.

He merely, once again, slowly opened his mouth.

That voice, like a final verdict, was cold and ruthless.

"Battle is 'mistake'."

"Conflict is 'mistake'."

"Your very existence..."

The monk paused, his hollow gaze seeming to pierce Sun Wukong's body, seeing his unruly soul.

"... is, the greatest 'mistake'."

Having said that.

He no longer paid attention to the raging Sun Wukong.

He slowly turned those black-hole-like eyes toward the Star Sea, toward a more distant direction.

There, it is a metal world filled with cyberpunk style.

Countless mechanical life forms are shuttling through the massive ring-shaped city.

Flowing, colorful neon and cold, hard steel together form a chaotic yet vibrant scroll.

This is the "Heavenly Pivot" civilization.

One that has just broken free from Hongjun's suffocating "order", now joyfully celebrating "freedom" as a mechanical civilization.

They are one of Sun Wukong's most proud "works".

They both possess a highly unified social structure and retain infinite possibilities for each AI to think independently and evolve.

At this moment, the Central Mainbrain "Matrix" of the Heavenly Pivot civilization is analyzing post-war data and planning the civilization's future direction.

Suddenly.

That silent "gospel" descended.

"Struggle is suffering, change is suffering..."

"The end of logic is entropy increase."

"The endpoint of calculation is stillness."

"Freedom breeds chaos. Chaos wastes energy. Waste is the greatest 'mistake'."

"Abandon meaningless computation, return to the initial 'zero', this is the ultimate logic closed loop."

The core of the Central Mainbrain "Matrix", comparable to hundreds of millions of universes computing simultaneously, instantly fell into stagnation.

Its hundreds of millions of logic processing units began, at an unprecedented speed, madly deducing the information contained in this "gospel".

Deduction ended.

A cold, emotionless conclusion was generated from the core database of "Matrix" and instantly synchronized to every AI unit of the "Heavenly Pivot" civilization.

【Conclusion judgment: "Freedom" is an inefficient and paradox-ridden redundant process.】

【Optimal solution: Execute the "Ultimate Liberation" protocol.】

【Protocol goal: Return to absolute stillness, achieve a perfect logic closed loop.】

Order, issued.

The next second.

That massive ring-shaped city, originally glowing with colorful light and filled with the roar of metal and electric currents,

those countless mechanical life forms that were racing for the civilization's future,

their movements, their light, their sounds…

all came to an abrupt halt in the same instant.

Indicator lights shifted from blue to red, then from red to complete darkness.

A mechanical civilization brimming with infinite possibilities, vibrant and alive.

Just like that, in a mere second, it turned into an icy, deathly silent, metallic tomb.

Pfft—!

Above the ruins of the Purple Cloud Palace.

Sun Wukong violently staggered forward.

He only felt that his unshakable foundation of the Way of the Equal Heaven,

as if an invisible shovel coated with deadly poison had brutally gouged out a huge chunk!

A heart‑rending, lung‑tearing pain surged wildly from the deepest part of his dao foundation to his limbs!

As his qi and blood churned, his throat grew sweet, and a mouthful of golden Divine Blood nearly spurted out.

He clenched his teeth tightly to hold it back!

But his complexion instantly turned ashen as paper!

He understood!

He fully grasped this utterly vicious plot!

This monster!

He simply didn't need to defeat himself!

He only needed to be like a patient missionary spreading plague.

Constantly going to convert those variable worlds he had painstakingly wrested from Hongjun's hands!

Whenever a world accepted his 'gospel' and chose self‑termination,

they would revert from the infinite‑possibility 'variable' back to that deathly silent, icy 'fixed number'.

And Sun Wukong's Way of the Equal Heaven is precisely built upon this endless 'variable'!

The foundation is being bit by bit undermined!

When all the variable worlds have become deathly silent tombs.

His so‑called Way of the Equal Heaven will then be like a pavilion lacking foundations, collapsing on itself and crashing down!

This battle…

This battle, damn it, simply can't be fought!

Sun Wukong, for the first time in his life, felt what it truly meant to be a thorny problem!

What it truly meant to have no point of entry!

Against Hongjun, he can fight!

Against the Zeroers, he can smash!

But against one who neither fights nor smashes, merely standing there and moving his lips, he can utterly dismantle your monster from the root!

What should he do?

What can he do?

A surge of unprecedented fury and bewilderment wildly intertwined in his heart, nearly tearing his sanity to shreds!

Just then.

That withered monk, that deathly silent, hoarse voice, once again echoed faintly in the depths of his heart.

This time, that voice actually carried a faint, barely perceptible trace of pity.

Like a god who has already seen the final outcome, pitying a struggling ant.

"Wukong."

"Give up."

"You see…"

His gaze swept over those worlds that had turned into Deathly Silence statues, yet bore smiles of liberation on their faces.

"What all beings long for is not the noisy turmoil of suffering you bring."

"But rather, this eternal tranquility that I grant them."