Act.01 · Bitter Sweet Symphony · A Symphony of Joy and Sorrow

Foreword:

Death can be heavier than Mount Tai or lighter than a feather.

[Part 1: Ten Days of Crisis]

When Victor woke up, four hours had passed.

To be precise, it was regaining consciousness after drinking coffee.

At this moment, she was still using a female character account. The instant she regained consciousness, she saw an unfamiliar ceiling and a younger sister who seemed familiar.

That was Puxi Ferdinand. At their first meeting, the girl gave off an inexplicable feeling of warmth and familiarity, making it almost impossible for Victor to raise any guard.

Her brain was damaged by neurotransmitters, and she remained in a state of confusion, though she could vaguely remember some things.

The young woman from Puxi knelt on the floor, her hands supporting her chin, leaning against the edge of the bed. She winked at Ms. Victor, her face full of a cute, clueless smile.

Victor couldn't immediately grasp what was happening. She could only cover her forehead and blink hard, but couldn't utter a single word for a long time.

She remembered--

Puxi told her the stories of "Romance of the Dragon" and "The Story of the Holy Grail".

The latest article is about the plot of "The Wife Cut into Sixteen Pieces".

This younger sister can verbally recount all the details of the text and can make sense of most of the storyline.

These things made Victor very happy, and he almost believed that he had met a kindred spirit.

But the next second--

--For David Victor, only a second had passed.

She found herself in this unfamiliar living room, as if her brain had gone blank. She had drunk an unknown amount of alcohol, and the headache, dizziness, and nausea from the hangover constantly plagued her mind.

The Walkman on the bedside table was playing The Last Time by the Rolling Stones, a song that Victor really likes. It seems this Little Pink knows her tastes and preferences very well.

But now she is unable to enjoy it; the music coming from her Walkman is ravaging her fragile auditory nerves.

As the music played, she felt her heart race, her chest tighten, and she struggled to breathe.

She couldn't help but raise her hand to press the stop button on her WALKMAN. But her hand froze halfway through its reach.

"This is neither my Walkman nor my Hilfiger."

Puxi immediately exclaimed excitedly, "That's right! Victor! This is mine!"

Nevertheless, Victor frowned and still went to shut down the noise-generating machine.

Immediately afterwards, her arm was grabbed tightly by the girl from Puxi.

Puxi smiled and asked, "What are you going to do?"

Victor: "I feel terrible. I want to turn it off. I want to."

"No, Victor! You can't!" Puxi pried the writer's hand away and tucked it back under the covers. "You can't refuse this. This is for you. How can you refuse my kindness?"

Victor glanced at Puxi--

She was shocked by the other person's strength; the astonishing, monstrous power that erupted when restraining her arms was something no normal human could possess.

Without a doubt! Puxi is a blood donation center! She could practically crush my arm bone!

Puxi's face darkened, and he began to mutter resentfully again.

"Victor, don't you like it? So all my efforts were in vain? Was it all just wishful thinking on my part?"

"No, it wasn't me." Teacher Victor began to panic. She instinctively wanted to call upon [Hell Highway], wanting to use her Soul Power to control the girl and find out what had happened.

But at the moment she tried to unleash her inner power, she was surprised to find that her spirit seemed to be out of control and could no longer radiate the power of her soul!

"What's going on?! Ferdinand Puxi! What have you done to me!?"

Teacher Victor, clutching his disheveled hair, suddenly noticed his deathly pale face in the mirror of his room.

--She was a woman who hadn't had a proper rest in a long time and was almost exhausted. Her face was sallow and her skin was dry, as if all her energy had been drained!

The young woman from Puxi slowly stood up, looking down at David Victor.

Have you heard the story of "Misery," Professor Victor?

At that moment, David Victor was deeply shaken.

"Misery" is a novel written by Stephen King. It tells the thrilling story of a writer who is rescued by readers after a car accident, but is imprisoned and abused by the readers because the ending of his work does not meet their expectations, and they force him to rewrite the ending.

Puxi Ferdinand is preparing to become a copycat; she has already subdued Victor using an H16T.

"You're powerless to fight back now— Victor. The renowned Detective King is about to become my toy! Now, I'm going to make you rewrite the ending of <Sixteen Pieces of Wife Slayer>!"

The story was nearing its end, and Victor had planned to finish writing it and immediately embark on another "living" journey.

After all, one cannot live as [Outlaw] forever, and the female corpse in the story cannot accompany the reader for that long.

This was originally a short story, with an ending similar to that of a human and a ghost whose love remains unfulfilled despite their different paths.

The girl from Puxi, clutching a thick stack of manuscripts, gently slapped Victor's face.

"Look at what you've written! Why couldn't she have a happy ending?! Why, Professor Victor? Why did Margaret have to be torn to pieces, reduced to ashes? Why did my dear Margaret only deserve to die in an exorcism ritual?!"

Margaret —the absolute female protagonist when Meteor first encountered this story.

At this very moment, Teacher Victor is preparing to end the tragedy, letting these scattered pieces of the body return to dust, and everything return to normal.

But when Puxi Poussin learned of this, he nearly went mad.

For every bit of sweetness she ate in the story, she was stabbed for every bit of pain she endured.

The serialization was still focused on the bizarre and passionate love affair between the male protagonist and Margaret, whose mutilated corpses were still on display. But in the blink of an eye, the manuscript she received was about to be separated from him forever!

This is absolutely unacceptable to her! She will never forgive it!

"No!" Victor unleashed an astonishing aura, and almost instantly, a red-skinned imp seemed to burst forth from his body. "No! Absolutely not!"

The powerful psionic energy surged, creating turbulence. When the bright red claws extended from the flesh, it was as if commanded by God, and they were instantly pulled back by the flesh.

Victor was covered in cold sweat, finally realizing that Soul Might couldn't help him for the time being.

"Puxi! I will not rewrite this ending! This is a necessary ritual!"

Puxi cursed, "Bullshit! You selfish bastard! All you do is bully this poor woman! She has nothing left! Walker loves her so much! They could have been together! But you cruelly separated them! No! I won't listen! I won't listen!"

Sam Walker – the male protagonist of "The Wife Cut into Sixteen Pieces".

The story described in the draft is nearing its end. It's likely that after a few more pages and two more story versions, it will be all settled and put to rest.

The hardships and joys that Mr. Walker and Margaret experienced along the way were composed of sixteen different pieces of a corpse, which were mailed to different people by an extremely evil criminal in an attempt to frame these relatives and friends related to Margaret for murder.

Mr. Walker tirelessly worked day and night, risking his life, even after his lover had been turned into a horrifying severed hand, determined to clear her name and reveal the truth to the world.

This is the outcome that Puxi cares about most.

"Even if it's some kind of resurrection ceremony! Let's have some stories of Jesus' apparitions! Let them be together again! Victor Victor!"

"This is not negotiable!" Ms. Victor's eyes burned, as if she had transformed back into the aggressive Mr. David: "Puxi Ferdinand, would you have given up if I hadn't written it this way?"

She struggled on the bed, trying to regain control of her body.

"Wouldn't it have been better to let Margaret live, or to have an open ending, leaving my readers to guess and write the story themselves?"

"No! This isn't right!"

"The dead should die! No matter what you do, Margaret can't come back to life!"

"This is my punishment for myself! From the very beginning, I wasn't fully prepared. I couldn't even write a living, breathing woman properly, so she had to die at the end of the story—a life without death is incomplete, and only death can make Margaret complete!"

"Some people's deaths are lighter than a feather, while others are heavier than Mount Tai. Just like you now, after learning of Margaret's death, she is almost like an inextinguishable firework, destined to remain in your heart forever!"

"If she and Sam Walker had survived and lived happily ever after, you probably wouldn't have remembered her at all! You'd probably be cursing me the next day—cursing me for writing such a hasty ending, for forcing a happy family reunion story."

Puxi Ferdinand was rendered speechless by Victor's rebuttal. Her face turned ashen, and she saw Mrs. Victor hunched over, looking as if she were about to get out of bed at any moment, which made her scream in alarm.

"Don't move!"

[Part ② - I've given up on this idea]

David Victor glanced at his unruly legs and finally understood just how hateful the little devil in front of him was.

Her legs were broken.

--Specifically, it was broken by a blunt object; the stonemason's hammer is still standing next to the door.

Both of his knees were shattered, and he couldn't walk at all.

This woman is ruthless and vicious; while harming others' bodies, she can still smile and welcome them as they get up.

Victor instinctively reached for White Lady's artifacts to heal his wounds, but Puxi immediately picked up her doctor's bag, grinned knowingly, and said, "Now it's my turn, big sister Victor —if you don't agree to let me rewrite this ending, I'll call someone else to take care of you."

She swaggered over her spoils, flexed her muscles, and opened her phone to introduce the guards and thugs to Ms. David.

"Look at these strong young men, and there are even a few African American brothers who have a surprise for you!"

Puxi became more and more excited and happier as he talked.

"Your life is in my hands. If they get you pregnant, I'll drug you and make you wish you were dead, so you can have a litter of babies and they can keep working for me. If you don't want to become a baby-making machine, do as I say!"

A hint of fear flashed in Victor's eyes.

--That was a hell more terrifying than death, a top-tier experience she could never have had with her male character account.

"Such a good thing actually happens."

Puxi remained silent for a full thirty seconds.

She was so astonished by the Detective King's thought process that she couldn't utter a word.

After considering the hygiene conditions of the place, Ms. David finally changed her mind.

She felt it was inappropriate; the mortality rate during childbirth was extremely high. If she could experience what it's like to be a mother, she could probably write even more powerful articles—more vivid, more lively, and more vibrant portrayals of motherhood. But for her, such art was probably too early.

"No, I was just kidding."

"Hahahahaha." Puxi was a little breathless, and even found it hard to believe Ms. David's crazy ramblings. "Then..."

"I agree to your request to rewrite Margaret's ending." Ms. Victor regained her composure. She glanced around the room and saw the familiar scenery outside the window, confirming that it was a workers' dormitory building. "But I can't think of a solution. I don't know how to handle the last part of the story."

"That's your problem!" Puxi shouted firmly. "Don't pass the buck to your readers, Professor Victor! But since you're willing to write, I believe you can definitely do it."

"I need a pen." Victor wanted to use a sharp object as a tool. She had traveled to the East in her early years and knew how to stimulate the nerves with acupuncture. Perhaps the writing tool that had accompanied her throughout her life could save her life.

If we could summon the power of the soul and have the [Hell Highway] punch this madwoman twice and write something on her, we could turn the tide of battle!

"Impossible." Puxi brought out ink and a quill pen. "Don't think I don't know what you're thinking, my dear Teacher Victor. You have so many fancy tricks up your sleeve. Are you trying to save yourself with a heavy pen? I'll only give you a light quill pen. The ink is rationed every day. You write at a speed of about 18,000 words a day. I know you very well."

As he said this, Puxi brought over a heavy bedside desk, similar to a hospital ward dining table, leaving behind paper, pens, and ink.

"Don't get any funny ideas."

Puxi emphasized, taking a cassette tape from her Walkman—

"--I have used a Soul Power attack on you. Your vision, hearing, smell, taste, and touch will all be interfered with, and have all been re-recorded!"

After saying all that, Puxi casually walked to the sofa and continued to sleep soundly.

A long, long time passed, Victor held the quill pen but remained motionless, unable to find any creative Inspiration.

She didn't understand what was so special about the enemy's soul power, nor did she understand the meaning of "[re-recording]".

She immediately grabbed a piece of paper, quickly wrote "[Help!]" in both Chinese and English, and threw it out the window!

When the paper hit the empty window, it was as if it had hit a solid wall! The crumpled paper bounced back!

When it rolled onto the floor, Victor was surprised to find that the paper seemed to come alive, slowly slipping into Puxi's palm along with the distorted light.

The young woman from Puxi yawned, as if she had just woken up from a dream, crumpled up the paper, and showed the writing on it to Ms. Victor.

[I love Ferdinand Puxi, and I want to write countless short stories about staying by her side at her bedside for the rest of my life, just for her alone.]

"Hehehe David Victor!"

Puxi cupped Victor's face and gave him a big kiss.

"You have such a sweet tongue!"

Then came a lightning-fast change of expression, from excitement and joy to sinister ruthlessness.

She turned it over to the other side, revealing the words "[Help]".

I advise you to give up on that idea.