Am I really hallucinating?

Chapter 403 A Hollowed-Out Shell
The old Monastery band was rather rough around the edges when it came to interacting with some of their enthusiastic fans, but that didn't really matter to people in the grey neighborhood.

For a band in the gray neighborhood, it doesn't matter if someone bleeds or dies on stage.

Nothing beats a real dead person, not even a dead core or a dead metal.

Have you ever seen a band guitarist leap into the crowd, grab a suspicious "fan" amidst the passionate cheers of genuine fans, drag them onto the stage, and smash them with his guitar to turn them into a "genuine fan"?
The thought that their idol was protecting them while also singing and playing instruments was something most of the gray neighborhood residents who had only come to join the fun when there was a performance had never experienced before.
Now, the venue is bigger, with many people from the White City area present, and there's also a live broadcast to the entire capital. So, anything too extravagant is naturally not a good idea.

We need to harmonize this.

Compared to before, when they had to pay attention to whether there were any restless people in the audience while they were playing, Tao Zhi, as the bassist, now has a more prominent job: he has to play the bass while also helping to screen for any suspicious "fans" in the audience and outside the performance venue.

Now it's much easier. The protection provided by the processing bureau can handle most of the cases they can't handle. If they were to bring in a few more, it might take some manpower for the external processing bureau to deal with them. But they're perfect "fans" to be used as backup dancers on stage.

Those who manage to get in are all "ruthless" individuals with their own convictions and beliefs. Extremists, no matter where they are extreme, all have the courage to carry out extreme actions.

This courage can also be a wonderful ingredient in this performance.

Doris and Zheng Fan both believed this.

This is a performance that other bands would find difficult to achieve. Moreover, once the Monastery Band's reputation spreads, the number of special fans who would dare to interact with them in the future will likely decrease sharply. Such a unique performance style will become a thing of the past, becoming an early memory on the Monastery Band's road to fame.

But at least for now, with the cheerful and lively melody, everyone watching the performance can keep up with the beat and drumbeats, and vent their pent-up frustrations from the past few days.

……

That's utter bullshit.

Haven stood in the audience, feeling the enthusiasm of those around him and the passionate performance on stage. He held his trembling hands and his body, which was unconsciously swaying to the rhythm, and discreetly moved through the crowd.

Just as I had seen in online videos before, the monastery band had a magic touch.

This magic comes not only from Doris, the band's core member, but also from "Gundam," who possesses a strangely infectious, hallucinatory quality that is impossible to detect.

Apart from Gundam, every member of this band has the awareness to struggle out of the mire, the kind of spirit that comes from experiencing darkness and then spontaneously transforming into light to shine on others.

In this chaotic metropolis, there are quite a few people with this kind of spirit, and even some ordinary people may possess saintly qualities that remain undiscovered. But spirit alone will eventually be swallowed up by the pale torrent of reality.

Just like him, and it...

However, the monastery band found a way, and their instruments, along with every song composed by Doris, conveyed various meanings to everyone in a more profound way.

This is the brilliance of inspiration, a real bridge built by intangible inspiration!

Paintings, words, melodies, sculptures, dances, films...

Haven felt the power of inspiration once again, yet was ashamed of his own narrow-mindedness.

How could this happen?

Even those with extraordinary spiritual insight can become just another ordinary person if they "only focus on themselves".

Isn't it true that "geniuses don't need to be bound by worldly constraints"?

Where exactly did these two paths go wrong, or was the medium he chose—comics themselves—insufficient to support his path? If he had persisted with traditional painting, even if it was just as a specialized illustrator, perhaps his inspiration would have shone as brightly as theirs long ago. Just as his deceased mother, his ex-wife from whom he had parted ways, and his gradually estranged friends had said.

Why should I suffer like this...?

Haven couldn't help but look down at his calloused fingers and wrinkled skin.

"For you, dreams are poison." The stage lighting effects illuminated Haven's hidden figure, outlining the shadow of a writhing worm.

"For your dream, you defied your parents' teachings. You were so busy with your serialization that you couldn't see your mother until she passed away, and you lost contact with your father. You focused on your comics and neglected your wife and friends. You gambled everything on these things, living out your childhood dream. In the end, you are still unknown and far from your dream in middle age. The only thing you have gained is the sudden realization one night that you have lived more than half of your life but have accomplished nothing."

That sound swallowed up all the music that drifted into his mind.

That was his own voice.

“You have been hollowed out by the worm called dream, and you are already empty. That is why you have become my outer garment. You are no longer yourself, but a walking corpse called 'dream'.”

Haver's lips trembled, and after a long pause, he could only manage a single, "I know."

"Yes, that's why we can have such a good understanding and no barriers between us."

“But what you want isn’t me.” Haven gave a somewhat sarcastic smile, it was hard to tell whether he was mocking himself or the worms inside his body. “An empty shell allows you to take advantage of weaknesses, but you’re just like me, not satisfied with the status quo, you only want a more perfect fruit.”

"I have never hidden anything from you." The voice remained calm, showing no anger.

“Yes, this conversation hasn’t stopped since you came in,” Haverne said.

"Like everyone else around you, you have something you need to vent. Now, keep looking..."

Hafern had this self-awareness: to retaliate out of ugly jealousy. Initially, he resisted and was afraid of it. Having grown up in a relatively normal educational environment, he instinctively realized that this was an anti-human thing.

But when he thought about how he had already brought this upon himself and was now empty-handed, he still chose to fall into depravity without hesitation.

Go and search.

To ruin this performance that conveyed that brilliance.

Find the illusion that creates a large-scale illusion to confuse people, and tear through this filter of perception before you are discovered by others.

Haven was able to bypass all obstacles and infiltrate the scene by combining his supernatural abilities with his insect-eating powers.

The inspiration of a super-inspired person does not mean that they can completely control it, but after being replaced by the insect-eating creature, with the subsidence of the wonderful inspirations that used to burrow in and out of his mind, he was able to control a part of them.

Having lost its most outstanding and transcendent part, it is left with a pitiful empty shell used as a means, just like itself now.

It is transformed into a part of a comic and flows into people's eyes, then disappears from their sight when the time is right, thus achieving a complete deception.

He also used this tactic to help extremists outside, making them willingly assist him.

As for finding that illusion, it's not difficult for someone with a supernatural ability and a wonderful combination of illusion; it just requires patiently sifting through so many people.

(End of this chapter)