Act20: Sea of Dreams

Foreword:

To be happy, one must believe that happiness is attainable!

Leo Tolstoy | War and Peace

[Part 1: Living]

Neither the gunsmith nor Mali Pero spoke.

Xue Ming deliberately waited a while, until the summer sun had flown further away, hoping to bring the blood-soaked monster to its senses. He could sense Pellegrini's soul power from Mali, making him a formidable opponent.

But Mali wasn't going to wait any longer; his hatred for Pellegrini drove him to continue.

The victims died with their eyes wide open in dismay, the perpetrators had blood on their hands, yet this damned social system forces the perpetrators to keep breathing and living.

He could understand and comprehend the principles of eradicating evil and upholding procedural justice pursued by Ming De and the Nameless One, and he also greatly admired the gunsmith's ability to control his emotions.

But he couldn't do it; he was just a kid who had just entered society, and he wanted to carry out his own death sentence.

Yukiko Haruta, Groba Pero, and Claire Wolf, the charming cheerleader for the Zebra Power Team.

These three lives must be taken, or this immense sense of unease will tear him in two.

What kind of monster will he become? Will he hurt even more people?

Will other innocent victims lose their lives because of him?

Mali Pero didn't know, couldn't figure it out, and couldn't understand it at all! Simplifying something complex was harder than climbing to the sky for him!

But murderers must pay with their lives. He firmly believed that he should be in charge of his own life; this was his choice, his inevitable path.

His family shaped him, the gunsmith changed him, and all sorts of elements blended together to become Mali Pero.

He has so many things he likes. He can admit without hesitation that he is a selfish, greedy, and lustful person. It's his nature, an inseparable part of his character. He wants beautiful girls, a comfortable life, big houses, and delicious food.

They want to be noticed, they want to become outstanding and great, they want to be envied, and they want others to admire them.

They want to get to know celebrities, to hold high positions of power, to change other people's lives, and to decide other people's destinies.

He wanted to command a large following, to achieve fame and success, to return home in glory with medals, and to have his parents kneel before him and apologize.

I want Little Groba to live a free and easy life. It's okay if he becomes a little rascal. After all, I've tolerated him for far too long. He should be able to love and hate fiercely, and he should be able to take responsibility for his actions. He can cause trouble, flirt with girls, fight, bleed, and squander money. As long as it's not an unforgivable crime, it's fine if he spends a little time in jail.

These hungers, which could never be satisfied, nearly burned Mali Pero's heart to ashes.

The wind stopped for a while, and the field of view became clear.

"Watch out, gunsmith teacher."

A hundred meters away, a continuous stream of gunfire rang out.

The illusory light of the Soul's Might protected the two knights. To protect the audience, Fragrant Dream caught all the bullets fired at her—the kinetic energy of the bullets was completely absorbed by the cat's paws.

One hundred meters is far, far away. For a pistol bullet, it would take a full two hundred milliseconds to reach the opponent's head. In Fragrant Dream's eyes, it was as slow as a butterfly fluttering in the air.

Mali Pero wasn't so lucky.

Pellegrini lost his mind, and the power of the Storm Eye came to an end. Using his primordial structure to unleash his soul power was like Lu Bu riding a dog; even the most powerful spirit could not unleash its true strength.

A slight breeze deflected the fledgling eagle's bullet. The bullet, originally aimed at his head, struck Mali's cheek, slicing away the soft flesh of his ear. He shifted his body to a sideways grip on the gun—a survival technique taught by his gunsmith instructor. While a sideways grip on the gun might decrease accuracy, it ensured the shooter had minimal contact with the enemy's line of fire and could still retaliate.

The pistol fired several weak bullets, which the gunsmith deflected with his Soul Power.

Fragrant Dream and the Gunsmith rushed down the slope, fired only two shots, then dropped their weapons and ran wildly towards Mali.

This kid seems to have a death wish.

--When Fragrant Dream captured Mali's bullet, Jiang Xueming seemed to understand Mali Pero's thoughts.

Because every single bullet that the Steel Cat caught was a powder-coated bullet. Even in the bustling city center of the capital, Pellegrini couldn't get a gun, and Mali Pero could only find the competition guns from the Zebra Power Team's logistics department.

As the gun was empty, Mali Pero heard a crisp click, the slide engaging the empty gun, indicating that he had run out of ammunition.

In the artificial river downstream of Cangyue Lake, amidst the rushing water, a row of glass crystals, sprayed out by sand and water jets, still remains, remnants of the Fragrant Dream.

They turned red and then gold in the sunset.

In the nightmare, Little Groba finally left his brother's shoulder. Under the sunlight, he was almost completely annihilated, unable to maintain his spiritual form any longer, and even unable to speak.

Beneath the distorted surface of the water, Groba and his brother waved goodbye, then swam upstream with a school of bright red salmon, turning into a dazzling splash.

"Eye Of The"

Mali Pero stopped mid-sentence, clenching her fists in preparation for the impact.

The gunsmith's charge transformed into ferocious potential energy, propelling him into Mali Pero's arm span.

Mali's legs tensed, his hands crossed to make way for the teacher's self-sacrificing kick, and he immediately grabbed the gunsmith's legs, trying to use the momentum to take the gunsmith down with a shoulder-cart stance.

Gunsmith was not about to be subdued by such a clumsy technique. Mali was taller than him, but his strength was not as outrageous as CC's. He changed his position and clamped Mali's shoulders tightly with his legs. A heavy thud came from the solid concrete of the riverbank!

The two figures spun and tangled, the gunsmith on top and Mali on the bottom, falling hard to the ground.

Mali's shoulders and neck were controlled, his shoes kicked up dust, and he circled half a circle, using his core strength to move from a passive position lying on his back to an active position facing the ground. When controlled by the chokehold, the familiar ground was the best reference point, which was something that the gunsmith teacher had taught him word by word, punch by punch.

The moment he regained his balance was the moment his hands were freed, so he threw a punch to strike the gunsmith's side, but after two punches, a sharp pain shot through his knuckles—what solid, steel-like muscles they were!

Even after being beaten, the gunsmith refused to release Mali's shoulders, neck, and skull.

He held Mali's upper body firmly, squeezing the blood-soaked monster's heart, lungs, and major blood vessels as much as possible, trying to subdue his opponent in this way.

Mali Pero, pinned to his knees by the gunsmith, tried again to break free using the shrimp-like maneuver, peering through the gap between his teacher's legs. There was no way out—if he moved any further to the right, he would fall into the river.

He knelt on the ground, trying to change his elbow strike stance so the gunsmith could see through it. He was then brutally punched in the head with his forearm, leaving him dizzy and disoriented!

I suddenly saw stars!

Two blows! He tried to raise his hand to protect his skull, but his fingers were broken!

Gunsmith was about to unleash a third arm strike when he suddenly lost his balance. He saw Mali Pero grit his teeth and lunge forward, his kneeling posture suddenly extending, slamming him and the Gunsmith onto the concrete riverbank.

He was finally freed from the gunsmith's control, and saw his teacher quickly get up, as if he had never been hurt.

--Yes, that's the look in my eyes.

He thought to himself, and quickly got up.

--Yes, that's the look I've always longed for, the look of envy I've had since I was thirteen.

They seem completely impervious to pain; no matter how severe the injury, they can immediately get up and continue fighting.

Xue Ming waited for a while and saw that Mali Pero was just holding his ground and had no intention of attacking.

He took the time to pull out his right molar, which was broken.

"Pooh"

The gunsmith spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva and waved his hand.

"Come!"

"Teacher" Mali Pero couldn't understand how he was qualified to stand before the nameless hero. In the instant the Fragrant Dream vanished, he held back his tears, finally maintaining his fighting spirit until now. It seemed that a few simple words were about to shatter his heart.

The gunsmith simply waved his hand, signaling Mali to take the initiative.

Come on! Come on!

A very, very long time passed.

As the sunlight gradually faded, the clouds above the hollow dome turned blood red.

Mali was dejected, all his courage gone. He hunched over, using all his strength to roar furiously, his expression ferocious and his eyes bulging.

"Ah!!!----"

He could no longer see clearly, only felt pain, but didn't know how to escape from this cage, like a war beast.

"Ah!!!!!----"

"Do you still have the strength?" Jiang Xueming plopped down on the riverbank, finally able to catch his breath, and his tense core Matsushita.

He swung his arm, wounded from his fight with CC, and his newly grown arm was now hitting Pellegrini's head; it was bloody and not very obedient. Trying to subdue Mali Pero with this body was really asking too much.

"Can't fight anymore?"

"Teacher," Mali squatted down, half-kneeling on the ground.

--He was different from the gunsmith he had imagined.

This man didn't seem to be as strong as the legends described; he appeared to be less robust than before.

For a moment, the child didn't know what to say. Because of these complicated puzzles, he could only spout incomprehensible riddles and fragmented English words.

"Why live, parents?"

"Family, Friends"

"My heart, what is pure, beautiful, and real?"

"Me, me."

"Where is the way out?"

"I don't understand. I..."

"Education, culture, hard work, success and fame"

"Hate! Loneliness! Anxiety! Despair!"

"What have I become?"

[Part ②: Falling Petals]

Xue Ming didn't reply; he couldn't handle the problem.

He could only reach into his pocket, trying to pull out the crumpled cigarette pack, and take out a pack of blood-stained cigarettes.

Then, I grabbed the paw of the Fragrant Dream and rubbed it until it was red on the riverbank. Using the heat from the big cat's paw, I lit a cigarette.

Mali looked towards the road beyond the riverbank; even more people were arriving.

Suddenly, a large hand landed on his head; it was Jiang Xueming stroking the child's head.

"Teacher?!"

Mali was stunned and at a loss for what to do. He felt an unbearable itch in his hands, and the eyes and mouth in his palms! The essence belonging to Pellegrini had undergone a drastic change!

Pellegrini's eyeball rolled out of Mali's palm, pulling out a stiff, fleshy worm. Its sharp teeth and foul-smelling tongue became limp and powerless, and it fell onto the concrete ground, where it was immediately charred by the afterglow of the sun.

The cigarette smoke cast a brilliant golden glow on the breeze along the riverbanks, flickering and occasionally emitting wisps of smoke.

A very long time passed—almost eight minutes, according to Mali Pero's perception of time—and the gunsmith just stood there in front of him, pressing his head down, doing nothing and saying nothing.

Mali stared in astonishment at the wounds on his palms, which were gradually healing. In the river, his hair changed from bright red back to orange-red. His eyes once again turned into brown-gold pupils, as if he had been reborn.

He looked at the gunsmith teacher, finding it utterly unbelievable—

"--Could it be that Fragrant Dream's power is... to turn monsters into humans?! Teacher!"

The station has never publicly revealed Sweet Fragrant Dream's special psychic abilities, Blood-giving Monster also don't know what SD's true abilities are. After all, most of the enemies who have witnessed such superpowers have already gone to the underworld.

The gunsmith remained silent, like a cast-iron sculpture, motionless.

Mali Pero then realized something was wrong!

The smoke from cigarettes, and the river! Waterbirds skimming low overhead, ripples in the water, people on the other side of the grassy riverbank near the road.

They all seem to be unable to move! Wait a minute! Something's not right!

"Could it be... this is my soul power? That I've stopped time?"

Mali was somewhat apprehensive; what did he do to deserve the superpower to freeze time?

Is that so? Is that really true?

Because I don't want to die! I want to live! So I awakened my own unique soul power?

That must be it! With Pellegrini's formidable psychic abilities and this blood-bearing body, the conditions have already been met!

All the necessary elements for Hohnheim's metaphysical theory have been gathered.

"But what do we do next?"

Before Mali could even revel in his newfound joy, another problem stumped him.

"What should we do? Leave here?"

"How do I control it? How do I call it?"

Mali started to panic, scratching his messy hair, not even knowing the name of Soul Might.

How can we keep time flowing?

Wait! Wait! No, no, no! I have to escape! I have to escape from here!

He carefully walked around the gunsmith, and as he ran across the grass, the little fellow ran back and sat down next to his teacher.

He looked frustrated, but now that he was alone, he was finally able to open up and say something.

"Teacher, I killed someone!"

"To capture Pellegrini, I killed someone; I ate her."

"I can't get over this, but what can I do? I just want to survive, I just want to live. How can I face Claire's parents?"

"I don't like her at all, I just think she's not bad-looking. I'm such a scumbag!"

He swayed back and forth, his head almost hitting the ground, filled with grief, indignation, and self-reproach.

"It's so damn shameful to tell you these things, I wouldn't dare say them to you."

"What would Groba think of me, his brother, if he were still alive?"

"Yukiko will be very angry. She'll never think of me as a clean person again."

"What if this superpower could last forever?"

"Could I leave for a little while? Just a little while. I want to be alone."

Mali Pero slowly stood up, took a few steps, then ran back.

He stubbed out the cigarette in the gunsmith's hand.

"Your teacher's wife will be furious if she sees this. Let me put it out for you first."

After doing all that, he felt as if he had let go of something, and his whole body felt relaxed, as if he were about to float away.

Climbing up the low slope, still feeling uneasy, he turned back to check, making sure the gunsmith was still there, firmly locked in place by the powerful force of gravity.

Mali Pero stepped out of the cage; he was no longer a war beast.

Are there really that many people?

The intercity highway was packed with people, and the first person Mali saw as he looked around was Mrs. Clare, who was crying her heart out.

Her little baby was already swollen from the cold. The boy was only five or six years old, his face was covered in frost, and his head looked swollen all over.

Such a horrific scene made Mali think that the culprit, Pellegrini, deserved to be torn to pieces and die a horrible death! He angrily rushed forward a few steps, wanting to end Pellegrini's dog life on the spot, but the next second he restrained his murderous intent.

Because Mrs. Claire was accompanied by General of Tears, and General of Tears was accompanied by 9527, who had arrived by motorcycle at top speed.

Anyone who follows the gunsmith knows about his eccentric wife, who was his mentor.

Mrs. Clare remained frozen in her hysterical state, like an ice sculpture. She seemed to be arguing with 9527 about something, completely deaf to reason.

The same was true of the General of Tears. To calm Mrs. Clare down, he grabbed a writing board and drew bold notes on it with a marker.

"It's frozen! Maybe we can save it—I told you! Leave it to me!"

9527 is the savior who is embracing another unnamed person. He is the doctor in JoeStar's healing room, who can give people a new life and help them rediscover another side of themselves, which is the pinky finger.

The teacher's wife also had a pen in her hand, and she was roaring in red on a large writing board.

"Get the hell out of your mind!"

Next up was Jason Megan, who was hanging below his drawing board. Because of the strength of the General of Tears and his teacher's wife, he had to remain in this awkward position and was dragged over along with his little finger.

Mrs. Clare, her eyes brimming with tears, yelled, clutching her son in one arm and a pen in the other, the lines for her written on the whiteboard being...

"Did I cry for nothing?! Were all those tears for my worthless ex-husband? The atmosphere was already this tense!"

Mali Pero found it strange, a feeling that was both absurd and warm.

Everything has color now.

At that moment, he let go of even more.

Pellegrini was no longer recognizable as a human being; the soldiers who had ordered Guangling Zhixi were pointing guns at him as he knelt in front of the fast food truck.

Mali strode forward, unzipped his pants, and urinated hard on the head of the Immortals angel before leaving, satisfied.

He walked a few hundred meters away, then remembered something! He quickly ran back and relieved himself in front of his parents in the freezer!

After doing all that, he felt an emptiness inside. Back on the intercity highway, what should he do?

The dead cannot be brought back to life, and lost relatives and loved ones cannot be found again.

He was like a headless fly, initially only speaking to the gunsmith teacher.

"I'll just leave for a little while; let me be alone for a bit."

Where are we going? Where are we going?

Go see Ming De!

Mali Boys perked up!

"--Yes, I haven't met the BOSS yet, I haven't actually met him! I have to go see him, at least I have to see him!"

He boarded the troop transport vehicle that Guangling Zhixi, not caring how it started up in a time-frozen environment. It all seemed illogical, but Mali ignored it.

The car engine started smoothly. It was his first time driving, and he was a little nervous. The moment he stepped on the accelerator, the strong push-back sensation startled him, and he finally clumsily fastened his seatbelt.

He headed towards Forty District, the nearest station being at the end of the intercity highway.

As he passed by the ancestral home, he glanced at it again.

--The cattle pens in the slaughterhouse were empty, the animals were unattended, and they broke out of the enclosures, trying to find their own way out and go to the pastures to find food.

After a one-and-a-half-hour drive, he parked the armored vehicle in the station parking lot, denting the front and rear of the car before he could barely squeeze it into a parking space.

As he got out of the car, Mali bowed towards the vehicle.

"I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!"

He ran towards the platform, through the ticket office, and as he climbed over the security checkpoint, he heard the piercing alarm bell—

--The alert sounded for a while indicating that the concentration of Spirit Calamity had exceeded the limit.

He looked at the security door with curiosity, then stepped back, repeatedly going in and out.

Each time he went in, the alarm would go off once, and only when the alarm ran out of battery would this playful boy head towards the waiting room.

As he passed the convenience store, he was so hungry he was dizzy. He scooped two ears of corn from the scalding steamer. They bounced in Mali's palm, burning Mali so much he looked like a juggler. He felt happy when he ate them all.

There's one more thing to do before heading to the platform!

He saw countless people, different passengers from all over the world.

A fat, burly passenger was harassing a female flight attendant, so he went up and slapped the fat pig hard across the face. Then he took two coins from the rude passenger's pocket and put them at the counter of the convenience store to buy corn.

Seemingly feeling that wasn't enough, he turned back and glanced at the flight attendant a few more times.

He felt a ticklish sensation, like a thief caught doing something wrong, and kissed the girl's hand.

I hope your beauty won't be a burden.

As Mali said this, it was finally time to set off.

When he arrived at the platform, his cheeks were flushed, and he felt like a complete idiot.

"Mali Pero! You're a lecher! You deserve to die!"

The empty platform finally made him realize that in this frozen space-time, he couldn't go anywhere.

The landscape cherry trees planted beside the beams and pillars are in full bloom.

The sunlight seemed to freeze forever at the platform exit, on the far side of the mountains. Petals, lifted by the wind, hadn't yet fallen; they were forever frozen in that moment.

Mali Pero is going to the Nine Realms, but the train seems like it will never come.

But he didn't notice this; he couldn't feel the existence of time, nor could he feel this eternal moment.

"What does Mount Fuji look like? I think I've only ever seen it in travel magazines."

"Where is Yukiko's hometown?"

Are cherry blossoms everywhere? Or are they only found on Mount Fuji?

"How long will it take?" Mali pulled out the stolen ticket. The boarding time on the ticket reminded him and pulled him back to reality. "Oh no!"

He held his head, his face full of regret, and finally had a profound realization.

"If this continues! Am I going to have to go back to the Nine Realms?!"

He paced back and forth on the platform, looking utterly bewildered.

"A 31-hour drive! Walk back? Good heavens!"

He bit his nails, squatted in front of the platform, looking at the rails beneath his feet and the maintenance passageway on one side of the rails, following the tracks as they stretched out. His heart wavered, and after a moment of hesitation, he caught sight of a blurry yet familiar figure on the opposite platform.

The corn in his stomach caused him to experience a lack of blood flow to his brain, and he was unable to regain his senses for a while.

Without any hesitation, ignoring the safety passage between the platforms, he jumped directly onto the tracks and climbed to the other side.

He approached the figure and looked at her closely; it was a woman.

--It was Yukiko Haruta, carrying her luggage, wearing a large straw hat for sun protection, and clutching a small pink floral umbrella in her other hand, looking towards the platform exit as if she were about to embark on a long journey. She looked exactly like the girl Mali Pero remembered, so much so that Mali was deeply shocked and found it hard to accept the fact.

Mali first clapped his hands, then bent over and dodged to the side, before stomping his legs several times until they finally went numb.

He didn't know what to say; he was completely baffled by all these mysteries.

He opened his mouth several times, but each time he swallowed his words. He opened his arms and hugged Yukiko.

--Then he immediately stepped back, pretending it was a natural, chance encounter, and stood next to Yukiko.

He was afraid that time would suddenly start flowing again, making the atmosphere awkward.

He put his hands in his pockets, one leg trembling involuntarily, and finally mustered up his courage.

He finally leaned in and gently kissed Yukiko's cheek.

"Why?!!!"

The platform clock rang, along with the clanging of brass bells and the wailing of the train whistle.

Passengers are urging their companions to catch up, as they are about to head to another station.

The administrator was blowing his whistle and shouting, urging people to move away from the safety line immediately!

Yukiko covered her cheek, her luggage slipping from her grasp, and exclaimed in surprise in her native language.

"Huh!? Huh heh heh!? What? What? What? What?"

The wind swirled up the delicate pink petals, which then slowly fell, mingling with the pink steam. Drawn by the swirling winds created by the interaction of the warm and cold air on the platform, they transformed into a sweet and colorful tapestry.

Mali caught Yukiko's luggage, looked up, and was speechless.

At that moment, the train pulled into the station.