An abstract trainer who taught Charmander the Incinerate move

Chapter 127 Heartbroken, Mad, and Deviant! (Please subscribe and vote!)
The glaring lights in the live stream room were like the operating lights on an operating table, coldly dissecting Homiga's last vestiges of dignity.

He collapsed helplessly onto the cold ground, his body convulsing violently.

Each spasm was accompanied by an incoherent hoarse sound squeezed from deep in his throat, like a broken bellows.

The tears were no longer flowing, but an uncontrollable torrent, mixed with black eyeshadow and greasepaint, washing over her pale face and creating a clown mask.

Those eyes, which once burned with fervent passion, are now utterly empty, reflecting the bleakness of shattered dreams.

However, the frenzy on the screen continued, and the torrent of comments transformed into millions of poisonous needles that pierced the screen and stabbed into her eyes.

[Great news, family! We have defeated the evil Great Sound Path! We are... the champions!!!]

[I declare this a complete victory in the battle against the evil Sound Dao Empire! Justice will prevail!]

[Oh my god, look at her ridiculous face now, it's so delightful! I'm going to make 100,000 copies and send them to all the major websites for promotion! Hahahaha, Director Mo, now that you've made enough traffic, it's time to focus on making movies!]

[That damn white-haired girl, die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Mo Zhenzhen, stop wasting your time on this trash, follow me! Follow me!]

[Phew, finally I don't have to hear Growlithe howling anymore. I hope her vocal cords can be completely destroyed from now on; that kind of music was way too advanced for us humans!]

[Brothers, using beta really works! Don't stop, keep the firepower down!]

【ββββββββββ】

The world doesn't need this kind of trash music. You, a sinner against rock music, if you still have any conscience as a rock musician, hurry up and swallow your guitar and commit suicide to atone for your sins!

[Director Mo! This kind of lousy, low-quality audio can be used to make a music video?! I want to make one too! I want to make one too! My audio is practiced every day in the live stream, my voice is definitely ten times, even nine times, better than this white-haired guy's!]

"Ho...ho..."

Seeing the barrage of sarcastic and insulting comments, Homiga felt an increasingly intense burning sensation in his throat.

Why...why are you doing this to me...what did I do wrong...I just wanted everyone to feel happy because of my singing...but why...Ughh ...

She wanted to scream, to shout, to tear apart this overwhelming malice with the most hysterical voice!
But... she can't.

Her vocal cords seemed to be completely welded shut by an invisible branding iron, only able to squeeze out a hissing sound like air leaking out.

In the ultimate humiliation of being pushed aside by countless people, she lost everything, and could no longer even speak for herself with her own voice!
Over the past decade or so, the entire universe of faith she relied on for survival collapsed in the frenzy of "β," burying her beneath the cold reality.

"Hmm~ Perfect, a very exciting plot, an outstanding work of art, it's all about this kind of polishing!"

Mo Zhen's lips curled into a pleased smile as he admired the shattered artwork on the ground. His fingertips tapped a light rhythm on the armrest of the director's chair, as if playing a triumphant song.

"Look at this traffic, look at this popularity, the buzz and influence are absolutely off the charts, an artistic explosion, ashes everywhere, this is the most perfect marketing campaign in music history! Using such a grand funeral to bury those unrealistic fantasies is just the right thing to do!"

Xiao Mengzi trembled violently like a frightened pink sow, her small, beady eyes fixed on Homiga's distraught and miserable appearance. Moved by the scene, she couldn't help but let out a faint, mosquito-like moan.

【Lord Mo... Lord Mo... hasn't this fire gone too far? I... I feel like she... she's almost burned out! How are we supposed to extract Dream Energy from her like this... ah no, I mean, how is she supposed to accept reality and continue living in this state?】

A look of regret appeared in Xiaomengzi's eyes.

It has lost Gong Ping, a promising young man with a bright future, and watched helplessly as he was brutally destroyed by the cruel truth, turning into a walking corpse drowning in smoke.

Now, it simply couldn't bear to watch yet another promising young woman be crushed by the terrible reality. Even with intense Uzi PTSD, it had to dare to speak up in front of Mo Zhen.

"Did it burn too much?"

Mo Zhen suddenly stood up, his red suit flashing a fiery light under the lamp.

[齁...齁...齁...]

Just seeing Mo Zhen get up, Xiao Mengzi, like an engine about to start, let out a preheating-style snoring.

However, the expected fistfight did not occur as scheduled. Mo Zhen did not even glance at it, but instead walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the city's dazzling lights, spreading his arms, and radiating a divine glow.

"Burn well! Burn it! If we don't use raging flames to burn this false dream to ashes, how can the ignorant world see the truth of reality?"

He turned around abruptly, his eyes resolute and unwavering, piercing through the live stream as if trying to nail into Homiga's empty soul.

"False applause is poison coated with honey. Indulging in it will only turn you into a puppet that can be manipulated by others. Only by completely shattering this self-deceiving illusion can you awaken from the dream and be reborn."

His gaze returned to the figure convulsing on the floor, and all the mockery and harshness on his face receded like the tide, leaving only a solemnity that was almost like a divine judgment.

He spoke to Xiaomengzi as if she were a soul suffering in a mental purgatory, each word spoken slowly and deliberately, his voice low yet heavy.

"Humans are indeed creatures who love to dream. Dreams have infinite possibilities and can create a perfect world, but... we ultimately live in reality. Humans can't dream forever, do you understand?"

At that moment, Mo Zhen's image suddenly became incredibly tall and imposing in Xiao Mengzi's eyes.

It discovered that although this man was mostly a cynical, fun-loving person and an artist who didn't know what was important, he was never ambiguous when it came to matters of principle.

Xiaomengzi's eyes trembled, and tears of emotion gradually welled up.

Lord Mo Zhen, what you're saying is far too profound... I understand... understand my ass!
Being trampled underfoot and subjected to condescending education by Mo Zhen, our great former Dream God gritted his teeth and shed tears of shame.

Damn it, how am I supposed to know if a person can dream forever? I'm not human! I am... I am... I am the God of Dreams!!!

So what if I dream? So what if I dream my whole life? I wish everyone lived in a dream, then my power as the God of Dreams would be limitless, and I would be invincible!
Damn it, my dreamlike energy, my grand plan, my divine authority and divine status, give them all back to me!

If this had happened in the past, Xiaomengzi would have already started throwing a tantrum and acting recklessly.

But the psychological trauma left by the endless bursts of fire from the Uzi submachine gun shoved into its mouth last time was too heavy.

So this time, being lectured by Mo Zhen in a pretentious manner, it could only lie on the ground whimpering, putting on a deeply moved expression.

While Xiaomengzi was suffering, Mo Zhen was still immersed in the role of a life mentor, looking melancholy.

"The fire has been lit. Whether she will rise from the ashes or turn to ashes depends on herself..."

The live stream signal abruptly stopped amidst a screen full of distorted and jumping "β" symbols, like a chicken with its neck snapped.

The private room fell into a deathly silence, broken only by Homiga's heavy, broken breathing, like a dilapidated bellows.

Mo Zhen walked up to her and slowly bent down, casting a huge shadow over her curled-up body.

He no longer used any techniques; his voice was simply a pure inquiry stripped of all emotion.

"Well, Miss Homiga, can you see clearly now? What do your rock music, your singing, your dreams really mean to those audiences?"

"Ho...ho..."

Homiga suddenly raised her head, her face, which had been filled with rebellion and confidence, was now filled with shame and inferiority.

After a violent struggle, extreme pain erupted in her eyes, and she clutched her throat with both hands as if trying to squeeze something out.

"Trash! It's trash! It's an unbearable bark from a dog!! It's a toxic sound that makes you want to gouge your ears out!!! Cough cough... cough!"

Hysterical, utterly insane, Homiga choked himself until he coughed up blood, finally regaining his ability to speak.

She seemed to have completely given up, frantically belittling her own music and utterly denying everything she had previously been proud of.

Mo Zhen looked down at Homiga quietly, a hint of pity in her eyes, and continued to ask.

"So... what do you want to do next?" Upon hearing this, Homiga suddenly burst into a shrill wail and crawled toward Mo Zhen on all fours.

She was acting like a madwoman, completely out of her mind, clinging to Mo Zhen's leg and crying and wailing without a care in the world.

“Director Mo! I was wrong! I deserve to die! I have let you down! I am not a singer for big stages at all! I am not worthy of your grand stage! I am not worthy of your artistic talent! A second-rate trash singer like me only deserves... only deserves…”

Suddenly, her voice abruptly changed, switching from a shrill wail to a neurotic babbling.

As if possessed or driven mad, a mesmerizing, chilling smile appeared on her face.

That smile... it was like he'd been smoking a Mengzi cigarette!
"Hehe...hehehe...I...I only deserve to sing there! Yes! Only that place! That abandoned factory full of garbage! That's right, I am garbage, and garbage should stay where garbage belongs! I shouldn't leave there!"

As if he had found a dreamlike paradise in the midst of despair, a terrifying fanaticism burst forth in Homiga's eyes. He sat up abruptly from his deathbed, and burst forth with a morbid vitality as if in a final burst of energy!

"Yes, yes! Only there is magic! The power of the Dragon of Ideals... is still there! I can feel it! The purple smoke of the gas bomb... the friction of the centipede king's carapace... the low growl of the dust mountain... ho ho... That is my kingdom! My source of power! Those vulgar spectators... they are blinded by reality! They cannot feel the dreamlike magic there! I must go back! I must go back!"

She suddenly released her grip on Mo Zhen, as if she had figured something out, and began frantically tearing at her already messy white hair.

She was crying and laughing at the same time, her voice rising and falling, fragmented and broken.

“Go back! Go back to my stage! Go back to my dream! Mr. Akromah… Mr. Akromah is right! He’s right! Without him… without that place… I am nothing! That rubbish stage is my promised land! Hahahaha… Yes! Go back! Go back now!”

Mo Zhen's eyes showed a hint of seriousness as he spoke earnestly to Homiga.

"You... really think so? To go back to that shady stage, to be an underground singer, to be obsessed with the so-called 'ideal dragon's' divine gift, is that all you want? Is this your United Dream?"

The dome of reason collapsed completely, and Homiga let out a wild, frenzied howl, sprawling up from the ground on all fours.

Mo Zhen's words took on a completely different meaning when they reached her ears.

A look of terror appeared in her eyes as she knelt before Mo Zhen and kowtowed frantically.

One blow, two blows, he went berserk, smashing his head until it bled, the glaring blood staining the expensive floor.

"I'm so sorry, so sorry, so sorry! Director Mo, I was just too excited, I... I forgot we signed a contract! Director Mo, great Director Mo, I beg you, I was really wrong! Give me a chance, let me go back! I beg you, I beg you..."

Homiga kowtowed and cried out wildly, tears mingling with blood as they streamed down the ground.

"I understand now, I'm just a piece of trash who doesn't know his place! Please forgive me, if I can't go back to that place... I... I really can't live like this!"

Seeing Homiga's frenzied state, Mo Zhen remained expressionless.

After a long pause, the air seemed to freeze, and Mo Zhen chuckled lightly with a blank expression.

"Ha...why bother? I'm an artist, not a businessman. Art is free. Even if I keep you by my side with a contract, it won't create art that satisfies me...So you can go wherever you want. I won't restrict you or stop you..."

Seeing Mo Zhen agree so easily, Homiga felt as if he had been saved from a desperate situation, his eyes filled with wild joy, and he said in a frenzied voice.

"Director Mo... thank you! I really thank you! You are the greatest and noblest artist, master, great man, genius in the world! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, besides thank you, I really don't know what else to say to express my gratitude!! I... can I go now?!"

"Just remember one thing..."

Mo Zhen remained calm, offering no emotional statement whatsoever.

"There is only one true heroism in the world: to see life as it is, and to love it."

In an instant, Homiga seemed to be struck by lightning, a flash of awakening light appearing in his eyes.

Her body trembled and struggled, like a drowning person struggling to swim to the surface.

But soon, the overwhelming reality suffocated her once again.

No... I can't do it... I... I can't do it!!!

Her eyes became glazed over again, and she screamed at Mo Zhen in a daze.

"Director Mo, I understand! I understand! I... I've come to terms with reality! I'm going back to my life now!"

She stumbled toward the door, knocking over the table. Bottles and glasses shattered on the floor with a crash, and she didn't even notice the flying shards cutting her calves.

Frantically prying open the door, Homiga, like a trapped beast driven by hellfire and completely lost, cried, laughed, and howled as she rushed into the dimly lit corridor outside.

The maniacal laughter, mixed with sobs, twisted and echoed in the empty corridor, growing farther and farther away, until it was finally swallowed up by the deep darkness.

The door swayed slightly due to inertia, making a soft creaking sound.

The end of the corridor was completely deserted.

Mo Zhen remained expressionless as he watched Homiga's figure disappear.

Xiao Mengzi's face showed heartache and regret, but everyone already knew what she was regretting and heartbroken about...

After Homi fled in a frenzied manner, Mo Zhen and his group also left the live broadcast room.

Perhaps it was witnessing once again the utter madness that followed the shattering of human dreams that touched the heart beneath that ruthless red suit.

A rare look of confusion crossed Mo Zhen's eyes.

"What's wrong with one or two of you? It's just facing reality, is it really that difficult? It seems I've been asking too much of you... After all, you're just mortals."

Human beings have their limits.

When the world of the past collapses, only a handful of people are truly able to transcend dreams and face reality.

After realizing this, Mo Zhen sighed helplessly.

Yes, he has been a god for so long that he has completely forgotten his vulnerability and powerlessness as a human being.

If one always demands that mortals make choices with the mindset of a god, the result will inevitably deviate from one's expectations.

Thinking of this, Mo Zhen suddenly remembered the boy who used a hand cannon to command the water otters.

Although his attitude was exceptionally resolute when they parted, treating it like a worn-out shoe.

But as time passed, our great god of art once again revealed his compassionate heart.

Maybe... I should go see him one more time.

In any case, the other party was also a disciple of his great god of art, a legitimate student who had been granted the true teachings of art.

"Sigh, I'm a good person in every way, but my biggest flaw is that I'm too soft-hearted..."

With a hint of helplessness in his eyes, he returned to the familiar 1145th Street in the night and stepped into that dilapidated rented room.

But the moment she entered the room, Mo Zhen's eyes trembled slightly.

In the next instant, a fierce lion burst forth from the gate, leaping out of its eyes!

Because Gongping was no longer on that old wooden bed.

Sitting there was a strange man wearing a dark suit, with eyes as sharp as a hawk's!

(End of this chapter)