An abstract trainer who taught Charmander the Incinerate move

Chapter 126 HomiHo, Unable to Rise Again (Please Subscribe, Please Vote)

Homiga was initially excited, glued to her phone, eager to see her "rock manifesto" shake the world.

As the number of views for her music video soared across various platforms, she excitedly shook Mo Zhen beside her.

"Director Mo! Look! It exploded! It really exploded!"

Mo Zhen rested his head on his arm with an air of nonchalance, smiling and nodding.

"See? What did I tell you? This is the power of art. You must believe in your own spiritual path, which has been blessed by the dragon of ideals..."

However, when Homiga opened the comments section, the overwhelming, malicious, and sarcastic words were like countless cold, poisonous needles, instantly piercing her bubble of excitement.

"A hoarse voice... mental pollution... dark rituals... garbage dump KTV... vulgar and tasteless... poisoning aesthetics... sexually suggestive songs... sound like the Tao... silver like the cry..."

These words were like a red-hot branding iron, fiercely searing her retina and imprinting themselves into her mind.

Undeterred, she scrolled down, hoping to find a glimmer of recognition or encouragement, but found nothing but more biting jokes and vicious teasing.

Those viewers who were physically and mentally hurt by the music video and were outraged not only launched a massive attack on her song in the comments section, but some even photoshopped her image onto a Growlithe dog's body, mocking her voice as being even worse than a Growlithe dog's howl.

As for the numerous fan-made videos that helped boost her popularity, they were all mocking her "Crazy Sacred Sound Path," with a higher degree of sarcasm than the combined Yin-Yang Twin Dragons of Unova.

If you randomly click on any fan-made video, you can hear all sorts of strange things.

[HomiHo's large sound channel~ is very big and a bit noisy~]

The color drained from her face at a visible speed, and her fingers began to tremble uncontrollably.

The image of the "rock queen" surrounded by fans and enjoying the thunderous cheers on stage was cracked with hideous fissures in the cold reflection of the screen.

"No...that's not the case..."

Homiga murmured to himself, tears glistening in his eyes, his voice dry and hoarse.

"They don't understand...they don't understand rock and roll..."

"Of course they don't understand!"

Mo Zhen interjected at the opportune moment, her tone carrying a condescending pity.

"Truth is often held by a minority, and great artistic pioneers are always lonely. The ridicule of the masses only proves your subversiveness and avant-garde nature! Homiga, this is the only way for you to become a true legend! No destruction, no construction!"

Is...is that really true?

Her voice was choked with sobs and filled with self-doubt.

"Is my voice... really... good? Can my rock music... really make dreams come true? Or... or..."

She dared not voice that terrifying conjecture: were the fervent fans in the audience during her previous performances, like the comments on this music video, merely a woven illusion...?

She looked down at her beloved guitar, a companion she once cherished as her life, but now it felt incredibly heavy and unfamiliar.

She trembled as she reached out her fingers, wanting to pluck a string, but the moment she touched the cold string, she recoiled as if burned.

The melody that once filled her with passion and power now only echoes in her mind with curses like "crazy voice," "dark ritual," and "mental pollution" from the comments section.

"Fake, it's all fake!"

Just as Homiga was in a daze, Mo Zhen's loud voice instantly made Homiga's heart stop beating!
"What?! It's all... all fake?!"

At that moment, Homiga felt dizzy, as if the world was shaking and collapsing.

Just as she was about to completely break down, Mo Zhen revealed a smile that seemed to indicate she hadn't had enough, like a mischievous child who hadn't had enough of playing games, and then changed the subject.

"That's right! Those comments that insult and slander you are all fake! They are all hired shills, you know that? Your outstanding talent and advanced ideas have completely shaken the foundation of the entire Unified Music scene and threatened some people's interests! These people are just a bunch of jealous rats in the gutter!"

Hearing Mo Zhen's powerful words of comfort, Homiga was like a drowning person grasping at a straw. She immediately hugged Mo Zhen's leg without hesitation and cried out.

"Ribbit!!! Director Mo, you're not kidding me, are you?! Are these people really just Suicune hired by someone else?!"

Mo Zhen slowly bent down and gently helped Homiga, who was kneeling on the ground, up with both hands, like a loving father comforting his confused daughter.

"It's absolutely true, Homiga! Don't be afraid of these false comments, let's face them bravely! The best way to overcome fear is to confront it! Come on, let's start a live stream on Douyin and face the real viewers head-on, to see their most authentic feedback!"

Hearing Mo Zhen's encouragement and advice, Homiga's chest heaved violently. Originally, she had no doubts about her rock art, believing it to be a national treasure that carried the dreams of all humanity.

However, she is now completely lost.

Upon hearing that a live stream was about to begin, she instinctively began to tremble with fear.

Damn it! What on earth is going on, Homiga? How could you waver in your commitment to rock and roll? Look how much Director Mo trusts and supports you. How could he be lying?

Don't let him down. Believe in yourself, believe in your rock and roll, believe in your sound!
After a hypnotic self-comfort, Homiga's eyes regained their light of dreams and hope, and his dull eyes found their luster again.

After Mo Zhen contacted Wan Long and once again used her "money power" to promote Homiga's live stream, a total of over 10 real viewers gathered in Homiga's live stream room to watch this audio-visual feast!
In the live stream, Homiga loudly asked the 10+ viewers for confirmation.

"Recently, many people who are jealous of my talent have questioned my rock music, saying it's garbage. What kind of situation is it if billions of people listen to a piece of garbage? Friends, do you think my songs are garbage? If you think my songs are good, type '1'!!!"

【222222222222】

【333333333333】

【BBBBBBBBBBB】

【βββββββ】

Amidst the overwhelming barrage of comments, Homiga watched with teary eyes, unable to find a single "1"!

She finally found a "1" amidst the frantically scrolling comments, only to discover it was actually...

[Sorry, I need to save my 1 for reviving the prison boss, so I'll have to deduct β!]

Off-camera, Mo Zhen gave Homija an encouraging look, signaling her to prove herself with her most authentic performance in the live stream.

Homi mustered her courage and made a final struggle.

"You...you must have never heard my live performance before. That's right...live performances will give you a completely different feeling, and I'll prove it to you now! Love is like fire..."

As soon as Homiga spoke up, those who had been randomly deducting numbers immediately faced retribution, howling and begging for mercy in pain.

【Quack!!! I don't want to hear it, I don't want to hear your teeth!!!】

[Master Homiho, please stop your supernatural powers! We know we were wrong!]

[Sister Cuo, we've won!]

[Please let us off the hook, we'll definitely deduct 1 next time!]

[Shut up! Close your mouth! We're going crazy!]

[Run, everyone! This livestream is trying to sacrifice us to the dark god Giratina!]

Let's unite and gather the power to seal the evil god! Let's all use beta!

【βββββββ】

The insane barrage of comments completely broke Homiga's defenses.

Tears streamed down her throat, making it impossible for her to continue speaking.

I...my rock and roll...my dream...I...

The immense blow and the dizziness brought on by the collapse of her faith made her almost unable to stand.

She staggered back a step, leaned against the cold stage truss, and slowly slid to the ground.

She buried her face in her knees, her shoulders heaving violently, and suppressed, broken sobs echoed softly in the empty live broadcast room.

That iconic spiky ponytail now hung limply, as if it and its owner had been burned to ashes by the flames of this "artistic nuclear explosion".

It's over, it's all over.

Rock and roll, dreams, music—nothing's left...

(End of this chapter)