An abstract trainer who taught Charmander the Incinerate move

Chapter 88 Burn, Wanlong! (Please subscribe and vote with monthly tickets)
"What are you guys doing... Waa ...

Upon entering, Wanlong saw a man, a woman, and three elves wrestling together on the ground.

Her brain completely shut down at that moment, unable to process the absurd scene before her.

Mo Zhen was seen straddling Natsume, holding the Uzi tightly against her waist.
The goddess, usually so noble, aloof, and unapproachable, now had her long, flowing black hair cascading to the ground, and her fair face was flushed with an unnatural redness.

Even more astonishingly, on the other side of the room, Xiao Huolong, Luca, and Alakazam were entangled together in an indescribable position.

Xiao Huolong rolled his eyes, his tail coiling tightly around Alakazam's trembling body like a python, while Luca's mouth was biting Alakazam's whiskers. The three Pokémon rolled on the ground, making all sorts of strange noises.

If this scene were captured by any paparazzi, it would definitely be the top headline on every major app tomorrow.

[Shocking the entire internet! New director and well-known actress.]

"Do not--!!!"

With her hands hanging limply at her sides, Wanlong's eyes lost their light, and she collapsed to her knees as if struck by lightning, letting out a heart-wrenching howl.

A mournful melody of "A Spray of Plum Blossoms" seemed to drift in from the sky, providing background music for this absurd scene.

Snowflakes flutter and the north wind howls, the world is a vast expanse of white. A lone plum blossom stands proudly in the snow, its fragrance offered only for her. I love what I love without regret, this love will forever remain in my heart.

Wanlong slumped to the ground, clutching the tassels of her cat-head scarf tightly with both hands, muttering to herself with unfocused pupils.

"I was so stupid, really... I only knew that investors would put actresses in their positions, but I didn't know that actresses would put directors in their positions..."

At this moment, Wanlong's eyes were vacant and her face was haggard, looking just like a miserable woman from the old society who had been ruthlessly crushed by fate.

After a series of Xianglin's lamentations, a ball of eerie blue will-o'-the-wisp slowly rose behind her, like a materialized resentment dancing in the air.

This isn't a special effect; it's her signature Pokémon—Chandelier.

Sensing the despair in its owner's heart, it came uninvited from its Poké Ball, creating an atmosphere behind her.

Wanlong's eyes gradually became empty and crazed, and her voice rose from low to high, from weak to strong, as if she were immersed in a tragic opera she had constructed herself.

"Ah, cruel world! Why do you mock me like this? You give me the nectar of hope in one hand, and push me into the abyss of despair in the other! Since that's how it is—let everything burn to ashes in the flames of rage!"

As Wanlong uttered her last word, the crystal lamp spirit floating behind her suddenly opened its blood-red eyes.

A suffocating sense of oppression instantly filled the entire room, and an eerie heat permeated the air.

"Burn, my destiny! Burn, my soul!"

Wanlong's voice no longer sounded human; it was like a roar from the depths of hell.

The Crystal Chandelier Spirit's body suddenly expanded, and the eerie blue flames inside its crystal-clear shell instantly turned into a dazzling crimson.

Its four floating arms stretched forward simultaneously, and four rotating fireballs condensed in its palms, as hot and dazzling as four miniature suns.

woo-

A sharp whistling sound ripped through the air, and four pillars of fire, like angry dragons, roared as they rushed toward the figures entangled on the floor.

Just as the flames were about to engulf Naz, an invisible energy barrier suddenly unfolded around her.

Faced with Wanlong's out-of-control attack, her eyes instantly turned cold, her facial expression quickly adjusted, and she reverted to her noble and aloof mask.

"boring."

Naz only uttered those two words, her voice as calm as if she were commenting on a poor performance.

With a gentle flick of her slender fingers, the energy barrier suddenly expanded, engulfing all the flames.

Even more shockingly, the absorbed flames did not dissipate, but under Naz's control, they transformed into tiny fire snakes that swirled and danced in the air, as if paying homage to their new master.

"The game of playing with fire ends here."

Naz slowly stood up from the ground, expressionlessly straightening her disheveled clothes.

The Chandelier Spirit let out an angry screech, raising its four arms once more, seemingly preparing to launch an even more ferocious attack.

However, as soon as Natsume raised a finger, the Chandelier Spirit's movements seemed to be paused, frozen in mid-air.

Wanlong's eyes widened. Her most loyal companion was completely powerless against Nazi.

Naza's power was like an invisible mountain, crushing all her self-esteem and pride into dust.

The Crystal Lamp Spirit hovered behind her, its once blazing, eerie blue flames now flickering weakly like a candle in the wind.

It sensed its owner's despair but was powerless to help.

Wanlong's thoughts drifted back to the past.

Those days and nights spent writing, those days spent meticulously refining a single plot point, the joy of watching the number of fans grow and the website data soar, the ever-increasing numbers of one's net worth after rounds of financing...

All of this seems so ridiculous at this moment.

Everything that she was once incredibly proud of was nothing but fleeting clouds in the face of true power.

She recalled how many times she had to cancel elf training because of deadlines.
How many times have our adventures with the elves been canceled due to website issues?
She chose another path, a path that seemed glamorous but actually led her further and further away from true power.

In this world, she is not the powerful and influential Unova Four Heavenly Kings at all; she is just a "new money" who has benefited from the era's dividends and made some money.

Wanlong remembered the promise she made when she first received the Crystal Lamp Spirit: to grow stronger together and explore the world together.

Now, her elf couldn't even withstand a single move from a true powerhouse.

Seeing the situation spiraling out of control, Director Mo, who had been forgotten in the corner, finally spoke up.

"Wait, Wanlong, let me explain! We're just auditioning!"

"An audition?"

Wanlong, her face filled with despair, seemed to grasp at a straw like a drowning person, a faint glimmer of light flashing in her eyes.

Mo Zhen remained calm, and the demeanor of a professional director instantly appeared on his face as he began to spout nonsense with a straight face.

"In fact, we just did a rehearsal, and Miss Nazja's performance was outstanding. She's the perfect choice for the role of Queen Milotic! Look at her noble, aloof, and mysterious aura; this role is practically tailor-made for her!"

In front of Wanlong, Nazi echoed Mo Zhen's words, her deep red eyes flashing with a meaningful light.

"Yes, this role suits me very well. I think our future collaboration will be very pleasant. I look forward to your guidance in the future, Director Mo~"

Nazi gave Mo Zhen a meaningful look, then regained her aura as an ice queen and gracefully walked out of the private room, leaving behind a subtle silence.

After Nazi left, Mo Zhen quickly stepped forward to comfort Wanlong.

"Ahem, don't overthink it. This is all just an audition for art, nothing more. You know, good acting requires dedication and genuine emotion..."

Ah, yes, art, this is pure art.

Wanlong's lips twitched, and she laughed nervously.

"Ha...ha! So it was an audition! Director Mo, you're so professional! You found the right role for the actress right away. Now that you approve of her acting skills, I'm relieved. Everything will be done as you wish!"

Haha, it's okay, it's all art, just forgive them!
As a seasoned adult in the business world, Wanlong may be a novice in love, but she is not stupid.

Even with a strong smile on her face, she couldn't hide the blinding green light above her head. The moment Wanlong turned her face away, tears involuntarily streamed down her cheeks.

Sending your beloved into the arms of another woman, and then having to listen to his lies to comfort yourself—is this the life you want?!

At this moment, the final chapter of fate's drama began!

Everything around her dimmed and faded, and Wanlong's consciousness entered the theater that belonged only to her.

Inside the theater, the lights were dim, with only a spotlight shining on the center of the stage.

Wanlong saw herself in him, the person she used to be—a web novelist sitting in front of a computer typing away, a novel website operator who was ecstatic about traffic data, an ordinary person who could command the wind and rain in the virtual world but was weak and powerless in reality.

As the scenes on stage changed, she saw Zhu Lan ignoring her like a stray dog ​​on the roadside, and saw Na Zi effortlessly subdue the chandelier spirit.

That insurmountable gap in aura, that overwhelming power disparity, made her feel suffocated once again.

"why?"

Wanlong stood up in the theater, her voice echoing in the empty space.

Why am I always left standing aside, watching others dictate my destiny?

The lights on the stage suddenly became intense, like a raging fire.

The flame did not come from the outside world, but ignited from the depths of Wanlong's heart, illuminating every corner of the theater.

In the flames, Wanlong saw another version of himself, full of infinite possibilities—the trainer who stood at the pinnacle of the Pokémon League, the partner who evolved Chandelure to its ultimate form, and the powerful individual who no longer needed to rely on anyone to protect his dreams.

Wanlong walked through the flames but did not feel the heat; instead, she felt a sense of purification.

“I have been running away, running away from the hardships of training, running away from the pain of growing up, running away from the courage to face my own weakness, and only daring to experience those baptisms and adventures in novels.”

The flames grew stronger and stronger, engulfing the theater's curtains, seats, and ceiling.

But Wanlong was no longer afraid; she felt a clarity she had never experienced before.

"I no longer want to be someone who can only build dreams with words; I want to become someone who can protect dreams with my abilities!"

Wanlong stretched out her hand, and flames condensed into a ball in her palm.

"From this day forward, no one can make me feel powerless anymore, and no one can control my destiny!"

Amidst the raging flames, the entire theater collapsed with a deafening roar. Wanlong's consciousness returned to reality, but her eyes, burning with fire, remained more resolute than ever before.

"I, Wanlong, swear that from this day forward, I will become a true strongman!"

【Oh my god, oh ...

The moment Wanlong made up his mind, Xiaomengzi, whose hidden energy on her back had been detonated and who had been completely exhausted, suddenly let out a terrifying pig scream.

Seeing that the beast was going crazy again, Mo Zhen went up and kicked it.

"You motherfucker! What's going on? Speak like a human being!"

Xiao Mengzi excitedly rolled around on the ground, kicking her limbs and shining her eyes, looking exactly like Fan Jin, who had just passed the imperial examination.

[My lord, you succeeded! You succeeded! Your actions have greatly inspired Wanlong, awakening her will to become strong. She has finally stopped being idle and is back on the right path to becoming one of the Four Heavenly Kings!]

Xiaomengzi's voice was full of flattery and worship, like a believer seeing a god.

Mo Zhen raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised, and then calmly stepped on Xiao Mengzi's pig head.

"Why do you need to waste your breath? Everything is part of my plan. Do you think I went to such lengths for such trivial matters? It's all to guide the future of this world correctly! But you, you useless wretch, betrayed me the moment trouble happened. What is your punishment?"

Despite being relentlessly ravaged by Mo Zhen's jade feet, Xiao Mengzi seemed to enjoy it, shamelessly flaunting the shiny Chelsea boots on Mo Zhen's feet.

【Oh, tsk tsk tsk—my dearest Lord Mo Zhen, it's all a misunderstanding! How could your most loyal little Mengzi abandon its most beloved master? It was all just a temporary measure to preserve the flame of revolution. Given the chance, I'll risk my old life to find a way to rescue you from that madwoman!】

Xiao Mengzi spoke with tears streaming down her face, her eyes glistening with tears, her voice choked with sobs, perfectly embodying the image of a loyal minister who devoted himself to the cause until his dying breath.

That sincere expression and earnest tone would likely move anyone who didn't know the situation.

It's clear that after playing several roles under Director Mo, this guy has honed his acting skills.

【My most respected Lord Mo Zhen, may I still board your old ship with this old ticket?】

Xiaomengzi's voice carried a hint of pleading, and her eyes were full of expectation and trepidation.

This acting was already superb, but Mo Zhen didn't buy it at all. He stepped on its head and kicked it while cursing.

"Heh, to hell with your old ticket, I'll get out of your old ship! My Thousand Sunny is a new era's giant ship sailing towards the temple of art, there's no place for you remnants of the old era!"

With her face bruised and swollen from being kicked, Xiaomengzi's physical defense effort value reached a new high.

But it still tirelessly tried to beg for mercy, its humble posture and fawning tone were simply astonishing.

"My lord, I've always believed you can create miracles! You and I, as a team, are like a snow leopard and Ding Zhen, like beef stew with potatoes—we're the best match, soul brothers! Please give me another chance, I'll do anything!"

After stomping on Xiaomengzi's pig head for half a day, Mo Zhen finally got tired.

He slowly removed his foot from Xiao Mengzi's head and said fiercely.

"Remember this, this is your last chance to repent and start anew. If this happens again, don't hold back any revolutionary sparks for me. If there's no opportunity, create one for me! If I ever see you desert your post again, hmph..."

I swear to live and die with you! Even in death, I want to be buried with you!

That's just how that jerk is. Once he's absorbed all the dream energy, he acts like he's on a rampage, spouting all sorts of nonsense.

Mo Zhen naturally didn't take this guy's nonsense too seriously.

Those two old bastards were just pretending and using each other, and they both knew it perfectly well.

Seeing Mo Zhen kicking and cursing at thin air, Wanlong didn't sense anything unusual.

As an artist, she knows all too well that it is common for her to become engrossed in her own artistic world in public.

Moreover, poor Director Mo had just experienced such a terrible thing, and he needed to find a way to vent his grief and resentment.

Wiping away her tears, Wanlong mustered her courage again and stepped forward to comfort her.

"Director Mo, would you like me to help you find a psychologist...?"

Mo Zhen kicked Xiao Mengzi away and straightened his red suit tie. His elegant movements made it seem as if he wasn't the one who had just gone mad.

He turned around, his gaze sharp and intense, looking directly into Wanlong's eyes, revealing the most affectionate look in the entire community.

"No! I don't need any therapist. Just seeing you is enough to heal my heart."

At that moment, Wanlong felt an unprecedented power flowing through his body—a renewed fighting spirit and the hope of a new life!

Director Mo, Director Mo, Director Mo, oh my god!

For you, I'll take down all those mythologists and famous actresses!
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.

From now on, I will update every day at midnight, noon, and 8 PM, with approximately 10,000 words per day. Please vote for me directly with your monthly tickets.

(End of this chapter)