An abstract trainer who taught Charmander the Incinerate move

Chapter 179 The King Descends from the Sky, Furious and Ferocious (Damn it, I've already subscribed!)
Shuanglong City, City Hall.

Mewtwo, depicted as a blond man, lay back in the boss's chair, a blissful smile on his face.

At that moment, he was like a true winner in life, pouring himself a glass of champagne.

[Mo Zhen, you think you're so good at fighting? What good is it if you can't fight? To survive in this world, you need power and connections. Which gang are you from? The entire Hezhong is under my control now. What makes you think you can fight me?!]

Liyong City, Witch Cafe.

Zhu Lan's slender fingers gently caressed the warm white porcelain cup. The dark brown liquid inside reflected her icy blue eyes, which were now filled with helplessness and a trace of barely perceptible sadness.

"Really... you've gone too far, Mo Zhen."

She whispered, her voice as soft as a sigh.

"I never expected you to do something so crazy. Although I know you had no other choice, it makes me a little sad."

However, that sadness, like a stone thrown into a deep pool, only caused a momentary ripple before being quickly replaced by a deeper and more intense light.

The corners of her mouth slowly curved upwards, no longer with a gentle smile, but with a sharpness and excitement unique to archaeologists, almost as if they had discovered a lost treasure.

"However... thanks to your crazy art, it seems we can see something truly amazing today."

The rim of the cup touched her lower lip, and her gaze became distant and full of expectation.

"Perhaps, today, at this very moment... I will witness the arrival of a legend."

In Warehouse No. 7, when the sixteen bullets tore through the air, carrying the scorching aura of death, and all pierced into Mo Zhen's signature red suit, time seemed to be gripped tightly and frozen by an invisible hand.

The world of Gongping shattered completely at that moment, and then... turned into an endless void.

All sounds, all colors, all sensations were instantly stripped away and erased.

He stood frozen in place like a machine that had been unplugged, his mind filled with only one image that burned into his soul like a brand.

Mo Zhen, his mentor who illuminated his entire gloomy life like the sun, the man who always wore a smile of extraordinary wisdom and a cynical attitude, now collapsed helplessly onto the cold, dirty cement floor like a broken rose.

The crimson liquid, centered on that body, spread silently at a breathtaking speed, sketching out a poignant and beautiful scene.

A wave of overwhelming sorrow, like a landslide or a tsunami, instantly engulfed and submerged him.

He once thought he had tasted the darkest flavors of life: the cold, damp sewers, the emptiness of shattered illusions, the humiliation of Akromar Laboratory…

But he had never felt such profound despair as he did at this moment.

Because no matter what, he knew there was still light above him, and that figure in a red suit, driving an Uzi submachine gun.

He is like a sun that never sets. As long as he grits his teeth and climbs up, out of that dark sewer, he will one day be able to touch the dazzling light and feel the remaining beauty of the world.

But now, this sun... is about to go out, the light is about to disappear, and the whole world is about to sink into a cold, deathly darkness.

He watched as Mo Zhen's life slowly faded away, muttering to himself.

“Don’t…die…”

Tears fell silently as Gongping mustered all his strength to shout.

"Don't die!!!"

But, it's no use.

The sun slowly set.

Not a single gap, not a ray of light.

Night fell, and the whole world was shrouded in darkness.

An overwhelming sense of loneliness finally caught up with him at this moment, swallowing him into suffocating darkness.

In his mind, the whole world was nothing but pitch black, the gradually cooling and stiff outline of Mo Zhen's body, and the cold despair and loneliness within him.

He's dying.

A calm, emotionless voice suddenly broke the deathly silence of the darkness.

Gong Ping was jolted awake, and he slowly and stiffly turned his head.

In the darkness, another "him" is slowly approaching, with silent steps.

The man was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, with an impeccable collar and a pale, lifeless rose pinned to his chest, as if he had come specifically to attend a solemn and sorrowful funeral.

His face was exactly the same as Gong Ping's, except that his eyes were as deep as black holes that devoured everything, devoid of any human emotion.

Upon seeing this "self," Gongping felt no surprise, only a sense of familiarity, as if it were destiny, emanating from the deepest part of his soul.

The floodgates of memory burst open.

Those long, dark nights spent alone, curled up in the corner of the wall-mounted room, before I met Ah Shui; those times soaked in boundless loneliness…

What accompanied him was not a cold toy gun, nor the unattainable Miss Liuli on the screen, but the person right in front of him... the [himself] existing in the deepest part of the darkness.

But later, with Ah Shui's wet companionship, with Miss Liuli's illusory comfort, and most importantly, with Mo Zhen's presence as fiery and dazzling as the sun, his world was forcibly illuminated, dispelling the shadows.

He was immersed in the light and gradually forgot about the existence that had always lurked in the dark side of his soul.

And now, as the sun sets and the world returns to darkness, he has returned.

Seeing another version of himself, dressed in a suit and tie like a funeral attendant, standing beside him, Gongping's lips trembled slightly as he asked the question that had been hidden in his heart for many years.

"who are you?"

Wearing a black suit, "Gongping" turned his head slightly, his black, hole-like eyes calmly staring at the main body, his voice cold and calm.

Who I am doesn't matter. You just need to know that I am a real person, the only one in this world who cares about you.

The only person who cares about me...

Overwhelming grief tore at Gongping's heart once more. He closed his eyes in anguish, tears streaming silently down his face, leaving two clear streaks on his dusty and blood-stained skin.

"The only person in this world who cares about me is about to die!"

He suddenly opened his eyes, his gaze burning with the flames of despair, and his voice rose sharply, a roar filled with resentment.

"And me... I can't do anything! I'm standing here like a piece of trash! I can't do anything!"

Gong Ping, dressed in black, tilted his head slightly, a hint of confusion on his face, as if he were observing an incomprehensible creature.

That man... is he really that important to you? Worthy of all this...pain?

"important?"

Gong Ping let out a bitter laugh, a laugh that was even more unpleasant than crying.

"You don't understand! You have no idea what that feeling is!"

He clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug deep into his palms, but he felt no pain. All he felt was a churning, suffocating feeling in his chest that needed to be released.

"It's been over ten years! Over ten years! Nobody thinks you're that important, nobody cares what you did today! Gradually, even you start to feel like you're superfluous! Whether you live or die, what's the point besides the pain you feel? You spend so much time daydreaming every day because you have no idea what you should do or what you're capable of! People just casually comment that you 'have no presence,' but who cares what you're thinking? You can only talk to yourself and the wall about what you're thinking! Where does your sense of presence come from?"

His voice grew louder and louder, carrying the pent-up grievances, resentment, and loneliness of being ignored by the world that had been building up for more than a decade, pouring out like a flood from a burst dam onto the dark mirror image before him.

The man in black listened quietly, his face expressionless.

Only those black hole-like eyes reflected Gong Ping's out-of-control madness.

His eyes were complex and unreadable, as if they contained the deepest contempt and a trace of... indescribable pity.

"Until one day!"

Gong Ping suddenly raised his head, a strange light bursting from his eyes, as if recalling the most dazzling moment of his life.

"You're being trampled on like trash! But you're so insignificant, so used to it, that you can't even be bothered to stand up and fight back! You just want to curl up there, motionless, letting the darkness swallow you up... But!"

His voice suddenly rose, carrying an almost reverential fervor. "Just then! The door opened! Light shone in! A very handsome man, wearing a gleaming Chelsea shirt, a red suit, and carrying a submachine gun, pulled you out of that shabby room, making you look incredibly cool in front of everyone..."

Gong Ping trembled with excitement. He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"That feeling... do you understand? That 'cool' feeling! So cool! Extremely cool! I've never been that cool in my entire life! Never!"

He's just pitying you, isn't he?

Gong Ping, dressed in black, remained cold and calm, with a hint of indifference.

[It's pitiful that the apprentice is like a rat in a sewer, because he himself... may have once felt that pitiful sense of being abandoned by the world.]

He paused, his tone tinged with mockery.

His helping you doesn't mean he likes you. It's just... a form of charity.

"Pity? Charity?"

Gong Ping seemed to have been stung by those words. He spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, and a look of almost ferocious determination appeared on his face.

"Yes! That's exactly what I am! That's just a piece of trash! But damn it, he went through all that trouble to get me out! Something that went through so much trouble to get out can't just be a complete piece of trash, right?!"

He pounded his chest violently, making a dull thud, his eyes burning with humiliation and anger.

"Damn it! I've been a loser for too long! Everything I do wrong is blamed on my stupidity, and everything I do well is blamed on pure luck. Everyone I care about either ignores me or treats me like a fool. But there's this roast chicken influencer who really understands me and sent me a terabyte of videos! What kind of life is this?!"

He practically roared out his last words, his voice echoing in the deathly silence of his consciousness.

What kind of life is this?!

Gong Ping, dressed in black, followed him and repeated it in a low voice, his tone devoid of emotion.

"I was rescued by Mr. Mo Zhen!" Gong Ping said, each word uttered slowly and deliberately, as if squeezed out from between his teeth, with a bloody determination. "I can't... be a useless piece of trash anymore!"

He suddenly stood up straight, took a deep breath as if to inhale all the cold despair in the dark space into his lungs, and then exhaled with a violent force in his throat that was enough to tear the void apart.

"If there's nothing else, let me go back right away. I'm in a rush!"

He didn't know why he was bursting with such intense emotions towards this "self" in the darkness.

Perhaps it's because the words have been bottled up for so long, and there's never been anyone to tell them.

At this moment, in this world in complete despair and the sun about to go out, this self, representing "truth" and "darkness," has become the only person he can confide in.

Wearing a black suit, "Gongping" silently gazed at him, his complex gaze eventually settling into an indifference that was almost like a god looking down on the mortal world, yet also carrying a hint of...understanding that was hard to detect.

He slowly extended his hand to Gong Ping.

That hand was pale, long, and had distinct knuckles, exuding an inhuman elegance and coldness.

Okay, I understand.

His voice deepened, carrying a seductive power, like the whisper of a demon from the abyss.

So...shall we make a deal?

"trade……?"

Gongping felt as if his heart was being gripped tightly by a cold claw, and a violent throbbing and warning came from the depths of his soul.

He instinctively took a half step back, his pupils contracting in horror as he stared intently at the outstretched hand.

"What are you trading?"

Gongping, dressed in black, showed no change in expression; his calm was chilling.

Give me your whole being, body and soul.

His voice, like a cold chain, slowly coiled around Gongping's soul.

In exchange... I will give you power. Enough power... to save that man.

An indescribable feeling of suffocation instantly gripped Gong Ping.

The "self" before him seemed to have transformed into the most ancient demon, and he was standing on the edge of a contract to sell his soul.

That chilling fear, like a venomous snake, coiled around his spine.

Catching the fleeting hesitation and retreat in Gong Ping's eyes, Gong Ping's voice took on a persuasive tone.

【don’t worry.】

The corner of his mouth seemed to twitch upwards very subtly.

I'm not going to take your life directly. I'm just... temporarily 'possessing' you, making you... omnipotent for a moment!

He paused, his voice filled with seduction.

From this day forward, this power is at your disposal at any time. And the price you pay each time you use it… I will… slowly, little by little… take it away.

Suddenly, Gong Ping seemed to remember something, and he shuddered, his eyes revealing a fierce and enlightened look.

Yes… Now, Mr. Mo Zhen is about to die! The sun of this world, his only source of light, is about to be extinguished completely! The entire world is about to fall into eternal darkness! What is the point of keeping this lowly life?!

Even if the other side really is a devil from hell, what does it matter if he sells his soul to a devil, as long as he can get back the light of the sun, as long as he can save the man who gave him meaning in life?!
Besides... the other party said they wouldn't kill him immediately! The price can be paid slowly!

Just this once! Just this once to save Mr. Mo Zhen! As for the future... we'll deal with the future later!

"make a deal--!!!"

Without the slightest hesitation, without the slightest doubt!
Gong Ping's voice carried a resolute determination, as if he had already decided to burn his bridges!

With all his might, he slammed his palm heavily onto the other person's cold, pale hand!

Snapped!
The moment their palms touched!
In the eyes of "Gongping," who was wearing a black suit, two crimson lights, as red as blood, suddenly burst forth from the previously black hole-like depths of nothingness!

That light contained supreme majesty, ancient rage, and... the will to destroy everything!

That's right!

A grand, majestic voice, seemingly from the ancient past, roared like billions of thunderbolts, instantly piercing Gongping's soul!

The voice was no longer calm; instead, it was filled with a domineering rage and murderous intent.

Those who oppose us... let them all die!

Rumble, rumble—! ! !
In an instant!

The entire dark world of consciousness was completely illuminated by billions of violent lightning bolts tearing through the void!
Each bolt of lightning was as thick as a dragon, shining with golden light that pierced through eternal darkness!
The deafening thunder, like the drumbeats of creation, pounded furiously against the barriers of the world!
At the center of that devastating storm of lightning, the figure of "Gong Ping" in the black suit vanished with a roar, completely merging into the darkness!
Immediately afterwards, the entire dark world began to tremble violently!

Gong Ping was immediately horrified to discover that the darkness in this world was no longer an empty darkness.

Instead, a colossal black dragon, its imposing and ferocious nature beyond description, blotted out the sky!
Its scales are like the deepest night sky, and its huge wings, when spread out, seem to be able to cover the entire starry sky!

The dragon's serpentine body coiled in the sea of ​​thunder, every muscle containing the power to tear the earth apart.

Its ferocious dragon head was raised high, its crimson-gold vertical pupils like burning stars, coldly looking down at the tiny, dust-like Gongping body below.

It opened its enormous mouth, filled with sharp teeth, and what it emitted was not a dragon's roar, but a world-destroying thunder that could shatter the world and announce the return of royal power!

On the day I return to this world, all traitors shall perish—!!!

The sound was like the lament of billions of living beings intertwined with the roar of thunder, proclaiming the return of an ancient king and the final judgment on the rebels!
In the real world, in Warehouse No. 7, a bloody, filthy inferno filled with gun barrels!

Gongping, who had been standing motionless as if he had lost his soul, suddenly raised his head!
His eyes were no longer human pupils.

Instead... a pair of eyes that contain endless majesty and a destructive will... the eyes of the Dragon King!
this moment……

The king descended from the sky, his face contorted with rage and ferocity!
Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

In fact, the plot has unfolded smoothly and logically so far, without any awkwardness or abruptness. There are no so-called "meme" elements in this book; everything is foreshadowing and setup for the plot. Therefore, nothing should surprise you; everything is under Director Mo's control.
(End of this chapter)