An abstract trainer who taught Charmander the Incinerate move

Chapter 132 The True Dragon, the Spirit of Unity (Please subscribe and vote with monthly tickets)
(Just to clarify the settings beforehand, in this book Zekrom is the True Dragon, corresponding to the dark reality, while Reshiram is the Ideal Dragon, corresponding to the pure white dream. So, in the following content, you don't need to worry about the original settings from the game.)
The darkness, like thick asphalt, enveloped Homiga's frantic figure.

She walked barefoot through icy puddles, sharp metal fragments, and slippery moss. Blood seeped from the ripped ends of her leather pants, mingling with dried champagne and leaving sticky marks on her legs, but she felt no pain.

run.

Keep running.

As long as I run fast enough, reality can't catch up with me!
Escape that red figure! Escape the truth Colt spoke of!

What "Dream Cigarettes"? What "reselling"? What "raw materials"? It's all slander! It's all lies!

It's the dirty water that was thrown by those filthy people who don't understand the magic of rock and roll!
Her smoky band is pure! Her singing is divine!

Mr. Akromma's science is great! The audience's rapt attention and happiness were earned through her soul and rock and roll!

"It's not Meng Ziyan...it's not Meng Ziyan..."

She repeated it hoarsely, as if chanting a spell, as if that could dispel the cold imprint that Colt's words had left on her mind.

All she wanted to do was run, run to the ends of the earth, to a corner where there was no questioning, no truth, only fanatical worship and illusory happiness.

Exhausted.

My legs felt like they were filled with lead, and I could no longer support the momentum of my run.

She slipped and fell forward, crashing heavily onto the cold street.

It's over, I finally escaped...

She huddled in the shadow of the oil drum, licking her wounds like a wounded beast.

A mixture of sweat, tears, blood, and champagne smeared on my face, icy cold.

She hugged herself tightly, trying to draw a sliver of illusory warmth.

As long as she hides here and gets through this night, she can return to that stage when the sun rises tomorrow, back to the audience who worship her like a goddess.

That's where she found her salvation, where her existence had meaning.

However, hope, like a candle flickering in the wind, was extinguished in an instant by the sound of footsteps.

Tap...tap...tap...

The gleaming Chelsea boots, stepping on the cold concrete, produced a clear, steady echo, like a death knell.

Homiga looked up abruptly, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints with extreme fear.

That blinding red, like the flames of hell, pierced through the curtain of darkness and descended upon her once more.

Mo Zhen stood there, his red suit impeccably tailored even in the dim light.

His face was expressionless, devoid of mockery or pity, only a deep, unfathomable calm.

That calm was more despairing than any anger or contempt.

"what--!!!!"

All the fear, humiliation, despair, and anger that Homiga had been suppressing erupted like a volcano at this moment!

Like a cornered beast, she unleashed a piercing, inhuman scream that tore through her throat!

"Why?! Why you again?! Why won't you leave me alone?!"

She scrambled backward, using both her hands and feet, pressing her back firmly against the cold oil drum as if trying to embed herself into it and escape this inescapable nightmare.

"What did I do?! What did I do wrong?!"

She was in tears, her voice broken and hoarse, filled with hysterical accusations.

"All I want is that stage! All I want is to sing there! All I want is to hear their cheers! To see their happy faces! What's wrong with that?!"

She pointed at Mo Zhen, her fingers trembling violently with extreme anger and fear.

"Wasn't ruining me once enough?! You dragged me down from the clouds and trampled me into the mud! You made me the laughingstock of the whole world! You made me despise me like trash! Now... now I've finally managed to crawl back to where I started... I've given up all my dignity! I've given up all my pride! I'm crawling on the ground like a dog! I'm barking like a dog! I gave that stage everything I could!!"

Her voice suddenly rose, filled with a heart-wrenching lament.

"Why?! Why won't you even leave me this little bit?! Why are you relentlessly pursuing me?! Why are you forcing me?! I don't want to know the truth! I only know that without that stage! Without those voices! Without Mr. Akromma! I will truly... truly have nothing left! I will die! I will really die—!!!"

This despair, mixed with a rock-and-roll-like roar, seemed to possess a soul-piercing, tragic power, instantly breaking through the deathly silence of the industrial park.

Om-!
The air suddenly became thick and dangerous!
"Hiss hiss hiss—!!!"

A cloud of smoke, swirling with an eerie purple light, shot out from the shadows in the corner like an angry ghost!

It's a gas bomb!

Its tiny eyes were now burning with furious flames, fixed on Mo Zhen, while the poisonous mist on its body churned violently, emitting a corrosive sound that made one's teeth ache!
"Roar--!!!"

The heavy footsteps sounded like muffled thunder!

The massive body of Dust Mountain rose abruptly from a pile of discarded parts, the accumulated garbage falling off its body, and its deep roar made the air tremble!
"Click! Click! Click!!!"

The chilling scraping sound of the carapace was like the whisper of death!
The centipede king's scarlet compound eyes lit up in the darkness, like lanterns from hell!

Its long, menacing body was perched on a high steel beam, and purplish-black venom dripped from its mouthparts, corroding the ground and producing acrid white smoke. It looked down at Mo Zhen with a chilling killing intent!
These Poison-type Pokémon, Homiga's most loyal listeners and partners, went completely berserk upon sensing her heart-wrenching despair and cries of agony!

They unleashed astonishing poisonous energy—a highly toxic purple mist, corrosive sludge, and deadly venom—like venomous dragons ready to devour their prey, locking onto the man who had brought Homiga endless suffering!
Faced with this terrifying siege that would terrify anyone, Mo Zhen remained calm.

Just as the toxic mist from the gas bomb was about to be released, the sludge-filled fist of the dust mountain was about to smash down, and the centipede king was about to unleash its deadly stinger...

Mo Zhen spoke up.

"Excuse me, I'm a police officer."

Time seemed to freeze at this moment.

Homiga's crazed, desperate, and twisted expression froze instantly.

Her mouth was agape, tears still clinging to her dirty face, but the burning flame in her eyes was instantly extinguished as if doused with a bucket of ice water, leaving only boundless emptiness and bewilderment.

police?

The word was like a nail, hammering into her mind, which was filled with rock and roll and unrealistic beliefs.

As if to confirm these cold words, the handsome man who had been standing silently in the shadows behind Mo Zhen like a shadow stepped forward.

His face showed the exhaustion from staying up all night, but his movements were swift and efficient.

He held a black badge with a gold shield and a Poké Ball design between two fingers, unfolded it in a flash, and held it precisely in front of Homiga's unfocused gaze.

On the badge, the four cold, golden characters for "Interpol" gleamed in the dim light with an undeniable, chilling light that seemed to extinguish all illusions.

Homiga's pupils completely lost their last glimmer of light the moment the ID was revealed.

Police... Interpol...

Not an artist... not a director... but a policeman...

Police officers who specialize in catching bad guys...

All sounds vanished—her own cries, the roars of Pokémon, even the sound of blood flowing.

The world became a deathly blank.

The last thread of strength that held her body together snapped.

"Uh……"

A faint, almost inaudible breath escaped from her throat.

Homiga's body fell forward silently, his forehead hitting the cold cement floor with a thud, and he lost consciousness completely.

Her dirty white hair was spread out, obscuring her face, which was now frozen in a huge void and utterly broken.

She was finally utterly crushed by the cold reality.

Before consciousness sinks into the abyss of darkness, time is stretched out infinitely.

Everything before my eyes was distorted and blurred, until it was finally replaced by a distant and clear image.

The ports of the United States are filled with massive cargo ships that resemble islands of steel.

Little Homiga, with his messy white hair, sat listlessly on a wooden crate piled with cables at the dock, swinging his legs.

She watched her father—the man whose skin was dark and rough from the sea breeze and the scorching sun, wearing a captain's hat, carrying heavy cargo onto the ship's side with a group of equally rugged men.

Sweat soaked his back, glistening in the sunlight.

He would occasionally turn around and see his daughter, a weary smile appearing on his face as he waved to her with his greasy hands, signaling her to wait a little longer.

"Homiga, after Daddy finishes this trip, he can rest for a few days and then take you to the amusement park."

In my memory, my father's voice was somewhat hoarse, with the roughness of the sea breeze.

He always made that promise, but the "rest for a few days" always seemed to come after the next voyage.

She was extremely bored at that time.

In this unfamiliar place called United States, he had no friends and spent his days either in his cramped rented room or with his father in the noisy and chaotic port.

Her father was taciturn and only knew how to work hard, supporting her with the money he earned from running the boat.

He didn't understand rock and roll, nor did he understand the restless rhythm in her heart. All he could do was clumsily buy her a cheap practice guitar for her birthday, then rub his hands together, asking with a mix of unease and anticipation.

"Do you like it? Dad heard... lots of kids like this."

With his broken wooden guitar in hand, the bored Homiga began his rock and roll journey, and from then on, he was unstoppable.

When she repeatedly faced setbacks, couldn't earn a single penny, and spent her days idly rehearsing and fooling around with a group of friends in the industrial park, her father never advised her to give up. He simply told her, "It's okay, Homika. It's good to have dreams. Dad also dreams of becoming an actress. Keep going. As long as you don't do anything bad, Dad will support you no matter what you do! Honesty is more important than anything else!"

Integrity...is more important than anything else...

Her father's calloused, large-knuckled hands seemed to be pressing on her shoulders, carrying the salty taste of the sea breeze and a heavy weight.

Those eyes, always weary yet those that stayed up all night to watch over her when she was sick, and those that silently apologized and made amends after she caused trouble, now seemed to pierce through time and space, gazing at her with the deepest worry and a silent question!
"Dad...Dad..."

In Homiga's shattered consciousness, she sobbed silently.

She always thought her father was boring and that he didn't understand her burning rock and roll dream.

On the surface, she disliked his taciturnity, the smell of engine oil on him, and his inexplicable dream of becoming an actor.

But deep down, the little Homiga longed to one day stand on a dazzling stage, so that her father, who was struggling under the weight of life, could stand tall and proudly point to the stage and say to everyone.

"Look! That's my daughter! She's an amazing rock star!"

She didn't want to disappoint him! She wanted to make him proud! She wanted to prove that she hadn't come to United States as a useless burden to him!

But now?

What did she become?
On stage, she became a clown who had lost all dignity and was ridiculed by thousands!
Offstage, she became an accomplice to evil, a bad person the police wanted to arrest!

She failed to be her father's pride, failed to become an upright and remarkable person...

"Woo..."

A metallic sweetness surged into her throat, and an immense despair, like a cold, deep sea, instantly overwhelmed her completely.

That chilling, suffocating feeling was a million times stronger than the shame I felt just now, barking like a dog on stage and popping champagne!
It’s over… It’s all over…

What else does she have? Where can she go?

Without a stage, she lost her reason for being.

Without magic, she lost the pillar of her faith.

Without integrity, she destroyed even the very foundation of being a human being and her father's last hope with her own hands!
Survive?
Continue to face this cold and cruel reality that shattered all her dreams and plunged her into the abyss of sin?

In despair, Homiga found the last way to end it all.

She suddenly raised her guitar, the hard headstock slamming down on her head with a resolute arc!
The action carried a kind of liberating madness, as if it wanted to completely shatter this suffocating world!
boom--

A dull thud sounded, but it wasn't the sound of bones breaking.

A slender hand steadily blocked the path of the falling guitar!

The head of the instrument slammed heavily onto Mo Zhen's outstretched palm with a dull thud, but he remained completely still.

Homiga was stunned by the sudden obstruction, her raised arm frozen in mid-air, and a flicker of emotion finally appeared in her empty eyes as she looked blankly at Mo Zhen.

Mo Zhen slowly withdrew his hand, the usual playful expression on his face disappearing, replaced by a strange solemnity.

"wanna die?"

Mo Zhen's voice was deep and calm, yet exceptionally clear on the quiet street.

"Have you gone so far as to completely abandon the courage to face your own mistakes?"

Homiga's lips trembled, and he couldn't speak.

A profound sense of despair and bewilderment at having her suicide attempt prevented intertwined, leaving her like a frightened wild animal.

Mo Zhen ignored her reaction, his gaze fixed on the hazy outline of the industrial area in the distance, his voice carrying an almost chanting quality.

"On the land of Unova, besides the [Dragon of Ideals] who brought dreams, another guardian sleeps."

"what?"

A very subtle hint of confusion flashed in Homiga's empty eyes.

"【True Dragon】".

Mo Zhen slowly uttered the name, each syllable carrying a heavy weight.

"It is the embodiment of reality, the other side of the ideal. It won't grant you unattainable dreams; it will only give you one thing—"

Mo Zhen turned her head, her eyes, which seemed to see right through people, staring directly at Homiga.

"The power to face reality."

"Face...face reality?"

Homiga murmured the word, which felt both foreign and incredibly heavy to her shattered world.

"Yes."

Mo Zhen's voice was resolute.

"It is not an ethereal blessing, but a thunder that shines in your heart when you recognize the truth, are overwhelmed by pain, yet still choose to rise from the abyss, choose to take responsibility, and choose to change."

He stepped forward and sat down nonchalantly on the cold, dirty ground next to Homiga.

The hem of his red suit was stained, but he seemed oblivious.

"You told the story of the 'Ideal Dragon,' and you said that those who set foot on Unova do so to pursue the 'Unova Dream,' to seek the power to realize that dream... Now, I will tell you the story of the 'True Dragon.'"

Homiga stared at him blankly, her body unconsciously tensing up slightly.

Mo Zhen's voice flowed through the silence, as if reciting a forgotten ancient proverb.

"On this vast land of United States, corresponding to the 'Dragon of Ideals' that weaves dreams, there is the 'Dragon of Reality' that governs reality. It is not a slumbering legend; its will has long been integrated into the blood of this land. It does not promise people a false promised land, nor does it bestow easily tangible illusions. Its trials are more rigorous than the path of ideals. It recognizes only one thing, and that is the 'Spirit of United States'."

"Unity spirit?"

Homika's eyes widened slightly. She was hearing this word for the first time, yet she felt a strange tremor.

Mo Zhen spoke each word clearly and firmly, as if imprinting every word into Homiga's soul.
"The spirit of unity is the iron will to face difficulties head-on and never give up! It is the stubbornness to wipe away the blood and get up after countless falls! It is the courage to face the cruelty of the world and the insignificance of oneself, and never compromise! It is not innate, but forged in the crucible of reality."

Mo Zhen's gaze deepened, and every word came from the bottom of his heart.

"The [True Dragon] recognizes such people. When a person, on the ruins of shattered dreams, on the edge of the abyss of despair, chooses to face the mistakes they have made, chooses to shoulder that heavy responsibility, and chooses to walk the thorny path of reality even if they stumble along the way... the power of the [True Dragon] will awaken in their heart."

"This power is not a world-destroying energy, nor is it magic that grants wishes. It is the purest and most powerful force—the courage that allows you to stand tall in despair, the determination that allows you to uphold your principles in the face of temptation, and the will that allows you to keep moving forward despite countless difficulties! It enables you to transcend your own weaknesses and overcome any difficulties that the real world throws at you!"

Homiga listened, somewhat lost in thought. The "True Dragon" and "United Spirit" that Mo Zhen described were so different from the "Ideal Dragon" that she had once fervently believed in.

One is ethereal and promises dreams to come true; the other is heavy and iron-like, granting the courage to face reality.

Her chapped lips moved slightly, her voice hoarse.

"Fake...all fake..."

She shook her head, the faint light that had just ignited in her eyes quickly dimming and being covered by a deeper despair.

"Even if... even if it's true... someone like me... someone as filthy as me... [The True Dragon]... how could it... how could it favor me..."

Tears welled up again, mixed with despair and self-abandonment.

Mo Zhen did not refute her self-deprecation, but simply looked at her calmly, her gaze so deep that it seemed to contain all darkness.

"Homiga, humans are very small and fragile creatures. Humans are born to dream; dreams are a haven, an illusion that allows us to breathe in the harsh reality. Without dreams... many people cannot survive."

He paused, as if acknowledging a cruel truth, but then Mo Zhen changed his tone, his words ringing with conviction.

"However, when a person can wake up from a vague dream, see clearly the hell he is in, see clearly the mistakes he has made, when he can wipe away the tears of fear, grit his teeth and even if he is covered in blood and his legs are trembling, still choose to take that step and walk towards reality, then... that person can become a hero."

"hero……"

Homika murmured to herself; the word was too distant and too heavy for her.

Mo Zhen stared into the darkness ahead and continued speaking.

"Not a legend of saving the world, not an idol revered by thousands. It is someone who, in their own desperate situation, overcame their cowardice, lies, and escapism. A person who dares to shatter illusions, embrace reality, and fight for it—that is the 'true hero.'"

He looked at Homiga, his voice carrying an undeniable power.

"Homiga, as long as the spirit of unity still burns within you, you can become a true hero at any time! The power of the True Dragon will be with you the moment you make your choice!"

Homiga fell completely silent.

Mo Zhen's words were like a key, trying to pry open her tightly closed heart, but inside was a heavy gloom that was difficult to dispel in a short time.

She just sat there blankly, holding the cold guitar, staring vacantly at the murky water stains on the ground.

Mo Zhen didn't urge her, but simply sat quietly beside her, like a silent mountain, giving her silent pressure, but also providing a powerful support.

Time flowed by in a stifling silence, with only the faint noise from the distant industrial area and the whistling of the night wind blowing through the metal pipes.

After a long silence, Mo Zhen finally spoke again, his voice returning to its usual calm.

"Three days later, at Li Yong Port, Warehouse Area No. 7, we will close the net there."

He stood up and looked down at Homiga, who was huddled in the shadow of the oil drums, looking like trash abandoned by the world.

"You have three days to think it through. Do you continue to rot in this corner, like a stray dog ​​running away to death, or do you stand up and face the truth of reality like a hero?"

He didn't wait for Homika's reply, nor did he even glance at her again.

The gleaming Chelsea boots clicked across the cold concrete, their rhythmic clatter fading into the distance before disappearing completely into the darkness of the street.

The world fell silent once again.

Only Mo Zhen's final words, like the cold tolling of a bell, echoed repeatedly in Homiga's mind...

(End of this chapter)