Chapter 1150
The President of Atlantos
Chapter 1150 The President of Atlantos
极鲨历2012年，12月21日，13:03:18。
Washington, D.C. - Buckingham Palace.
Thick, dark clouds pressed down heavily on the lifeless sea, and the damp, salty wind, carrying the smell of blood and rust, swirled between the broken statues and the half-destroyed columns in the water.
The capital city, once standing at the pinnacle of human civilization, is now submerged in the deep sea.
Washington is no longer a city, but is submerged in the sea. The Buckingham Palace still stands, but its foundation has long been eroded by the sea, and the entire building looks like a withered white skeleton, floating on the blue sea.
At this moment, above this palace steeped in tides and decay, a murderous intent, like a spear piercing the sky, suddenly descended.
Theodore Roosevelt, the master of the Platinum Palace, the president of Atlantos, and the king of extraordinary history, slowly raised his head.
That face was no longer the strong, confident president that people knew.
At this moment, he wore a round bubble helmet inlaid with floating gold and coral, inside which was a fishman's head covered with scales and slimy aquatic wrinkles; and he was dressed in a white suit sewn together like an aircraft uniform, which shimmered with the metallic luster of fish oil.
His eyes had completely lost their human form, sunken deep in their sockets, as if seawater and illusions might drip from them at any moment.
The golden trident was held silently in his right hand, engraved with Hai Si script and altered oaths.
He slowly rose from the sea, stepping on the broken waves. Behind him, the ocean currents swirled and surged, and a crown made of extraordinary authority slowly unfolded, causing the seawater to tremble slightly.
—Just then, two giant shadows appeared in the sky.
Sodom and Gomorrah, like twin stars of the apocalypse, overlook this sea of sin and rebellion.
Flames leaped around them, their spirituality flowing, like a prophetic vessel of divine punishment, pointing directly at this fallen kingdom.
Their master, Qasim Muhammad, the second sword bearer, stood atop the waves.
The two gazed at each other across the silent waves.
At that moment, Roosevelt… or rather, Theodore Roosevelt, stared with resentment at the second swordsman, who had a human form.
His voice rose slowly, hoarse and weathered:
"You all... came after all."
A flicker of undisguised weariness and resentment flashed in his eyes, a lament of an ancient empire on the verge of collapse:
"All of this is your fault—"
"It is your inaction that has allowed the beast of falsehood to crawl out from the abyss."
"It was you who abandoned the lamb... that forced us to transform into sharks and devour our own comrades, embracing glorious evolution."
"We thought we could hold up the torch, but you haven't looked back for too long—"
"Your silence is the breeding ground for all disasters."
He spoke slowly, but every word was stained with blood, like a lament or a curse.
Qasim remained motionless. He listened quietly to the words, then gently raised his head, his eyes revealing a chilling killing intent that could not be concealed by the sea fog.
His voice was calm and composed, offering neither response to the accusations nor explanations, but rather a pronouncement as clear as an ancient judicial text:
"Whoever sheds human blood, his blood will also be shed by humans, for all human beings have the same face."
"You have abandoned the image of humanity, donned the mask of the sea god, and once championed progress and civilization, you are now like a dead fish rotting in the deep sea of power. And you have not uttered a single word about your vile deeds of clinging to life."
The seawater beneath Roosevelt's feet shimmered with a viscous, eerie blue light. Inside his helmet, the fish head covered in sea scales and fleshy folds lifted slightly, its blurred gaze seeming to pierce through time and space like turbid waves from two lifetimes, looking toward Qasim.
Then, his deep voice finally echoed through the steamy battlefield, carrying the lingering echoes of history and misconceptions, reverberating throughout Washington Bay:
"I did not betray humanity, but chose to lead it to the next stage of evolution."
"I personally trained the white steel fleet and guided the rise of industry. I believe that might makes right, and that a nation should not be an empty shell parasitizing the old aristocratic order, but should forge its own future with strength."
Now, I remain a pioneer of progressivism, only this time I've extended my progressive hand to the seabed, to the Aquatic race, and to a purer, more efficient race, more suited to survival in deep space.
"For me, civilization has never been a physical shell or a bloodline, but the ability to adapt and the will to survive at all costs in the face of a cataclysmic wave."
His tone was low and seductive, like an obsession and curse crawling out of the ashes of an old regime, carrying the lingering echoes of his once-powerful authority, resonating in the ruins of a collapsed empire with his self-proclaimed legitimacy and historical justification:
"My heart and actions are as clear as a mirror, and all my deeds are for justice!"
Qasim did not answer immediately, but stood silently on the churning sea. He looked at the monster that still proclaimed itself righteous and asked a question calmly:
"Including cannibalism?"
The latter, however, showed no shame. He merely lowered his head slightly, raised the fish-shaped head encased in the metal bubble helmet, and spoke in a gentle tone, yet his voice was like a blade honed for a thousand years slowly being drawn from its sheath, carrying a frenzied sharpness capable of tearing apart ethics:
"This is the price of civilization's evolution."
"What you see is the crimson stain swirling on the dining table, but what I see above the crimson stain is the bridge of civilization that spans the deep sea."
I chose to let humanity survive in the tide of evolution, even if it's as food, even if it's as a living database, even if it's just barely surviving.
"Because I know that deep within the planet, under the surging of the world's will—the beast of error has awakened."
"It will devour everything; it will wipe out everything that it does not accept, like an anthill wiped away by a storm, erasing all traces of humanity."
Only those of us who have adapted, changed, and integrated into its system can barely survive, and preserve even a tiny fraction of our human heritage.
"You think I'm an executioner?"
"Do not……"
"I am the last...shepherd of mankind!"
"Humanity in this world survives because of me!!!"
The Great Roosevelt stood tall, planting the trident in the sea, as if he alone had supported the entire nation of Atlantis and its fifty states.
But the second swordsman, Qasim, remained unmoved; he simply uttered a single sentence:
"The entire Atlantos region originally had hundreds of states and more than 480 cities, but now only six states still retain traces of human habitation. Four of these states are low-level breeding areas, and the other two states, although not yet directly slaughtered, have been deprived of their right to civilization and the right to spread their knowledge, and have been reduced to human settlements for viewing."
"Is this how you preserve humanity as much as possible?"
The Great Roosevelt's voice lowered further as he looked down at his scaled hands and exhaled softly:
"...If it weren't for me, these six states would have long since disappeared beneath the deep sea."
"You don't understand. It has long since become the will of this planet itself. You cannot resist it. The moment you utter the concept of humanity, it begins to erase the group that the word refers to."
"I chose to become Haisi in order to better serve humanity and enable humanity to survive."
As he spoke, the phantom of an indescribable, twisted creature faintly appeared in his eyes. It was an existence from some dimensional error, a terrifying form pieced together from fish scales, book pages, bones, the ocean, and language—like an ever-open bracket, it hovered at the end of his words, ready to devour anything possessing a true name. The Great Roosevelt slowly raised his head, gazing at the two space-based weapons suspended in the sky, his voice low yet laced with sarcasm:
"Humanity has been able to continue because of me, but who can you save?"
The sea breeze seemed to weep, and the fighting spirit surged like a tide, but Qasim's gaze never wavered.
The wind howled, and the fighting spirit surged like a tide, but Qasim's gaze never wavered.
He slowly raised his right hand, his palm trembling slightly amidst the particles of light and law. The next instant, he clenched his fist tightly, as if it were the core of the entire sky!
boom!!!!
He has heard the heretics' confessions and has also received confirmation of the truth.
The sins born from the cause and effect of this world line will now be completely erased by him. No more words, no more arguments... The answer is already very clear!
He will send this damned heretic and his babbling, shrouded in corrupt will, to hell!
In that instant, a dazzling avatar of light appeared behind Qasim, and the heavens and earth seemed to freeze at the call of some ancient god, as that great being slowly manifested in the world:
——【Gibrald ( )】
It was the embodiment of light and law, the embodiment of war and words, and the dual bearer of destruction and forgiveness. He descended from non-physical space, like a data wing folded by starlight slowly rotating and unfolding, each feather like a footnote, engraved with crimson gold characters of judgment and deconstruction, as if a holographic Bible were unfolding in reality.
He wore a false crown, his eyes were closed, yet a burning white light swirled and condensed on his chest—the Eye of Judgment, the Core of Decision.
Qasim's figure had long since completely merged with this incarnation, no longer a human outline, but a vessel of divine will, a concrete manifestation of punishment and forgiveness, and the execution of Gibral's will in the world.
He spoke slowly and softly, his voice like a divine revelation:
"The Power of Magnetic Fields - Fifty Layers"
boom.
With a slight flick of his right arm, a ring-shaped shockwave exploded from the tip of his fist, transparent yet distorted, as if the entire space itself was resisting the impending force.
This punch condensed the immense power of five hundred layers of magnetic energy rhythms. It was not merely a simple accumulation of force fields, but a gravitational network that guided star orbits, stars, and even the magnetic cores of planets.
Their endpoint is where they converge at that moment.
Fifty magnetic orbits oscillated, rising from the Earth's core, and like the celestial sphere reversing, they exploded across the entire ocean.
boom----------!
The tides of the entire ocean receded backward, and the atmospheric circulation collapsed like a fist, as if thunder had suddenly shattered and the Milky Way had been inverted!
Beneath the White House, the former president, the sinner who had fallen into the clutches of a monstrous sea, seemed to feel the force of a planet colliding with the earth.
He suddenly spread his arms wide and roared, summoning the seawater along the entire Washington coast!
The tides surged like a whale's back, and the crests of the waves resembled mountains. At his command, millions of tons of seawater surged from all directions, converging into a liquid body powerful enough to block the trajectory of space-based systems, as if the will of the ocean was resisting the immense power of the magnetic field!
But when that punch actually landed, the world suddenly fell silent.
Fifty magnetic fields resonated like a cosmic bell in that instant, causing all liquid water elements to solidify before the fist, then explode into water vapor, ions, and electric arcs...
The Great Roosevelt's chest caved in instantly, the golden trident cracked inch by inch in his hand, the bubble helmet shattered like an eggshell, and a crater vortex tens of meters high was stirred up beneath the sea surface. He himself was like a wronged soul struck by the hammer of the heavens, letting out a muffled groan as blood gushed from his chest!
"Cough... Ugh—!"
He ultimately blocked the fatal blow...at least he didn't die.
But his body was like a ship with a broken sail, and he was sent flying dozens of kilometers by a punch, crashing through the golden roof of the Platinum Palace, breaking through the dilapidated presidential hall, and even the hundred-meter-deep sea stone foundation behind him collapsed!
He knelt in the center of the ruins, trembling all over, his hand gripping the trident bleeding, while the entire Washington Sea was blasted into a huge and terrifying magnetic shock depression by that punch.
Qasim withdrew his fist, his aura still lingering. He remained standing between the sea and the sky, like a crossroads of judgment and war. His body, shrouded in the radiance of [Gibrill], was as hot, stable, and unshakeable as the core of a star.
In the next instant, he flashed and without moving his feet, he teleported to the front of Theodore Roosevelt in the center of the underwater ruins. He raised his right fist again, which was wrapped in a chain of gravitational oscillations and structural deconstruction.
That was a pure, almost violent will, a powerful killing move with the magnetic force of a magnetic field called "[My Martial Arts]".
At that moment, with bloodstains still wet on his chest and his body still broken, Theodore Roosevelt almost simultaneously completed his self-reconstruction.
His sternum, muscles, and tissues writhed like steel cables in a whirlpool, rapidly being bound and repaired by some indescribable marine regeneration factor. He casually tossed the trident into the sea, for the golden weapon was no match for his current fists.
He roared and, without hesitation, raised his own fist to meet the oncoming right fist of my martial arts!
—He was the king of extraordinary history, Theodore Roosevelt.
The most powerful and twisted being in the Extreme Shark Line, the possessor of the Sea Child's physical body, had fought fiercely in the boxing ring when he was still human, possessing a powerful body. After he fell into the Sea Child, his body also completed an evolution that exceeded the limits of biological laws.
Faced with purely physical attacks, this body is the ultimate answer in the Hai Si worldline.
Unfortunately, he ran into Qasim.
Facing Hai Si's strongest physique, the second swordsman remained silent, only swinging his fists incessantly.
For the second swordsman, there's no need for fancy mechanics and skills; they only need to rely on their absolute stats.
After exchanging blows with the second swordsman, Theodore Roosevelt experienced the pure beauty of numerical values; his enemy... had high damage with his left fist and high damage with his right fist.
thump—
After the seventieth punch, Roosevelt's fist broke!
Bones shattered, joints displaced, muscles ruptured, and the reconstructed skeleton exploded again. The entire arm, along with half of the shoulder, was blasted into a cloud of air by that punch!
He roared, blood gushing out, his chest caved in!
But his body began to writhe again, his flesh surging wildly like a deep-sea sponge, and granulation tissue bursting, curling, and healing in the air. In less than a second, new bones and muscle fibers grew out of the broken skin once more.
Then, during his 110th punch, he was blasted into a bloody pulp by the [magnetic force] stacked up to 88 layers.
The next second, Theodore Roosevelt was reborn from the ashes!
Then, the second swordsman's second punch landed, and Roosevelt roared as he flipped himself up from the sea. Hundreds of seawater tentacles, like octopuses, surged out from his back, condensing into a giant tornado in an attempt to repel Qasim. However, Qasim simply rotated his ankle slightly, and the [Magnetic Force] stacked to eighty-nine layers erupted in the space beneath his feet, creating a repulsive wave that shattered the entire water tornado in the opposite direction.
The third punch—pierced his abdomen!
The fourth punch—cracked his skull!
The fifth punch—flips his spine off its back, like severing the noose around a sinner's neck!
The Great Roosevelt coughed up blood, frantically regenerated, and even after his body exploded, his flesh twisted and formed four clones, intending to escape from four directions!
But Qasim simply stood still, his gaze unchanged.
The eighty-nine layers of [Magnetic Field Power - My Martial Fist] blasted directly towards him.
boom!boom!boom!boom!
Four incarnations burst like bubbles!
Fragments of bones and organs danced wildly in the air like a storm, turning the entire Washington Platinum Sea area into a hellish inferno of blood and magnetism!
And Qasim, standing in the heart of that crimson storm, his gaze piercing through the remaining mist, looked at Roosevelt, who retreated with each drop of blood and rebirth, and said:
How many more times can you regress?
As he spoke, the [magnetic power] around him had already increased to ninety layers.
With the next punch, the entire area beneath their feet will be completely annihilated by the force of the punch.