Depression, Muscle Armor

Yan Anqing didn't answer, just looked at Ma Ran in silence.

He had encountered this situation many times before.

At this moment, the other party needed a listener, not advice.

"It's too painful."

Ma Ran sighed and took out his schedule from his pocket.

He stared blankly at the small notebook, his expression distant, his tone devoid of much humanity, as if he were recounting someone else's story: "I really can't bear it anymore."

"I know I'm weak, I can't even do half of what Yu Hongyi can, but I've tried my best."

"You know, when I was eating in the canteen just now, I was holding my chopsticks and thinking about stabbing them into my eyes..."

Ma Ran's words were like the ramblings of a mentally ill person.

Fragmented, illogical, and not very coherent, he spoke whatever came to mind.

After about ten minutes of pouring out his feelings, Ma Ran finally grew tired.

He stopped speaking, even closed his eyes, looking like he was conserving energy.

Yan Anqing sighed and said gently, "You've done very well, much better than I expected."

"Moreover, after this limit-breaking training, the strength of your willpower will improve significantly."

"The current situation needs to be taken seriously."

"You're showing signs of neurasthenia and have a severe tendency towards depression."

As he finished speaking, the screen of Yan Anqing's notebook suddenly switched scenes.

The figure of Academician Li Yanhuang appeared on the display.

In the screen, Old Li snorted, seemingly disdainful of Yan Anqing's statement.

His bright golden eyes were filled with the sternness of someone who hates that their student isn't living up to their potential: "Only the weak get depressed."

Ma Ran opened his eyes.

The gazes of the two golden-eyed individuals met across the display screen.

He seemed to want to say something, but as the words reached his lips, he could only let out a long sigh: "You're right, I am indeed weak."

It's no use hating that iron can't become steel.

Iron is iron; unless it's reforged, smelted, and its carbon content and arrangement are altered, it will never become steel.

This is an inherent attribute.

Hearing their conversation, Yan Anqing, who was standing nearby, felt the veins on his forehead bulge, as if he were struggling to suppress his inner anger.

He glared fiercely at Academician Li on the screen, his voice gratingly emerging from between his teeth: "Ha! So you finally admit that depression is an illness?"

As soon as he said this, Old Li's expression darkened, his brows furrowed, and the muscles in his face twitched slightly.

Academician Li Yanhuang was the father of Yan Anqing's first love, Li Wan.

When Li Wan was diagnosed with depression, Li Yanhuang and Yan Anqing had argued heatedly about it.

The former, adopting the airs of an old father, asserted that his daughter was simply pampered and not really sick, just being melodramatic, and using it as an excuse to avoid studying and working.

Therefore, Academician Li strictly forbade Li Wan from taking antidepressants and used his connections to prevent her from purchasing medications like Paroxetine, Sertraline, and Citalopram.

He stubbornly believed that "medicine has three parts poison."

She wasn't sick at all, just weak-willed, self-hypnotizing herself into believing she was ill, yet she needed long-term medication...

Doing so would only harm his daughter's body.

Li Yanhuang believed he was doing the right thing.

"Psychological effect" was a phrase he often used.

Later...

One dawn, the first faint rays of morning sunlight fell on Yan Anqing's face.

He woke up to find Li Wan, who lay beside him on the pillow, already cold.

It was confirmed to be a suicide, with no conspiracy involved.

After this incident, the emotional changes and inner journey of Yan Anqing were truly difficult to describe to outsiders.

At Li Wan's funeral, her father blamed her husband for not taking good care of his daughter.

Her husband, however, believed her father had caused his beloved's death.

Yan Anqing and Li Yanhuang couldn't stand the sight of each other.

If not for the coincidence of working in the same place, they would have cut off all contact.

As soon as the words left his mouth, Yan Anqing realized he had lost his composure.

He took two deep breaths, managed to calm himself, and said expressionlessly, "Academician Li, if you want to observe my experiment, you can. But please don't butt in with unsolicited opinions."

Ma Ran, who was originally the center of attention, suddenly became an audience member.

He vaguely sensed a connection between the two, but it wasn't appropriate to interrupt, so he focused on his own business, pretending to be invisible.

"Hmph..."

Academician Li Yanhuang snorted and disconnected.

Yan Anqing composed himself and his gaze fell on Ma Ran.

"You've given me inspiration."

"The next new research topic will be called..."

"'The Strongman Cultivation Plan'."

Listening to Yan Anqing's words, Ma Ran had a vague sense of foreboding.

If it were him before, he'd probably be either extremely excited or terrified of the unknown future.

But now, he merely nodded weakly, indicating his willingness to cooperate.

California, America.

Mr. Olympia Gym.

Jack Grimm was hitting the weights like usual.

His ten abdominal muscles were as hard as steel, his two pectoral muscles like twin shields, and his latissimus dorsi, trapezius muscles, biceps, and triceps were all well-developed with smooth lines.

His muscle groups were like mech body armor defense components, sweat trickling down, reflecting the light with the luster and texture of marble.

This was by no means a level that a normal human could achieve through training.

Jack Grimm's physique was like armor implantation; just looking at him from afar gave off a powerful, explosive impact.

Around him, dozens of men and women who were working out surrounded the place tightly.

"...So amazing! As expected of Jack, one of the Twelve Saints!"

"He can't even be called human anymore! He's a complete superhuman!"

"God... This kind of muscle armor is impossible to achieve through training! Even if I over-inject hormones, do cycles of C (a steroid injection cycle), and spend ten hours a day in the gym, I wouldn't reach this level in over a decade!"

"Schwarzenegger, Jason Statham, and The Rock are like little kids compared to this guy!"

"Is this the legendary 'perfect ghost back'? I always thought it only existed in comics..."

"I heard Saint Christian's testosterone levels are already fifteen times that of a normal man! Many YouTube fitness influencers who inject Durabolin, Winstrol, Parabolan, and Primobolan like saline solution and glucose can't reach that level. Judging by Jack's muscle display, he seems even more exaggerated than Christian. Just how high are his male hormone levels?"

Jack Grimm's lips curled up exaggeratedly, a proud smile appearing on his face, his golden eyes shining with arrogance.

As a YouTube bodybuilding video uploader, he had maintained his fitness routine for a full ten years and participated in countless bodybuilding competitions, big and small. However, his best result was only third place in a state competition!

Bodybuilding was like esports.

No one remembered the second or third place. Except for the champion who took the crown, everyone else was a LOSER, seen as weak and easily defeated!

But all of that changed after the Crimson Moon Incident!

Jack discovered that his muscle mass had suddenly exploded, with clear and smooth lines, and a separation so high it looked like it was surgically done.

With this physique, no one could stand against him at the Olympia!

Unfortunately, the Olympia had just ended, and there were no world-class bodybuilding competitions in the near future...

Originally, Jack Grimm worried that this change was temporary and that these perfect muscles would gradually shrink over time.

So he frantically filmed over a hundred fitness videos and uploaded them to YouTube.

But more than two months have passed, and these muscles on his body show almost no signs of regression.

"Ha!"

Jack suddenly dropped the dumbbells and struck a pose.

He grinned and made a bizarre OK gesture, saying, "This is the true power of white people!"

As soon as he said this, the atmosphere in the venue became instantly fervent.

No one noticed that the smile on the face of a fair-skinned young man closest to Jack Grimm quickly vanished, as if he had been slapped in the face during the most excited moment.

In his eyes, anger and resentment gradually overflowed...

It really is more satisfying to write original creative works!

When writing the previous fanfiction, it felt like dancing with shackles, completely unable to spread my wings...

I hope this one can achieve results and be a long story!

Let's work hard together!

I will diligently write and update every day!

Could you give me your recommendation votes every day?