Chapter 108: Transformations-The Inner and Outer Worlds(Pokémon)

Yan Luo sat expressionless by the fire basin.

“Please begin your performance.”

He gestured politely, then quietly watched the old man boast—or rather, lament his tragic past.

“When I was young, I loved watching performers put on puppet shows. Though I grew older, this passion never faded; if anything, it deepened. So I apprenticed under a master puppeteer, learned the craft, and made a living through puppet theater, which also brought me joy.”

The old man repeated the same story as if no one else was present, then set up the stage before him. His ten fingers manipulated the puppets, which danced gracefully while he sang. The play was “The Peony Pavilion.” As he sang, his voice choked with emotion.

“If not for my youthful obsession with puppetry and my refusal to strive for more…”

“…I might as well have burned it all as kindling!”

Yan Luo watched with unblinking eyes as the delicate puppet girl, the second time, fell into the fire basin. From the flames, she rose, bowed to the old man, then sacrificed her own body, burning through the night to bring warmth.

To test whether this time would be exactly like the last, Yan Luo deliberately refrained from interfering with the old man’s actions.

As the old man’s lamentation grew louder, “It’s warm now, but I have nothing left—not even the one companion I had,” the scene in the mountain god’s temple shifted rapidly. The image before Yan Luo transformed once again into the mountain path he had first entered in this inner world.

“What’s going on?”

Pondering this, Yan Luo advanced toward the temple for the third time. Since doing nothing yielded the same results, this time he intended to act.

Inside the temple, the old man sat warming himself by the fire basin beneath the desk. Yan Luo approached and greeted him, “Have you eaten?”

The old man ignored him, burned some paper, then sighed bitterly again:

Yan Luo interrupted firmly, “Learning! You should be learning!”

“Learning brings happiness.”

The old man muttered on, then manipulated the puppet to dance gracefully on the stage. After finishing “The Peony Pavilion,” tears nearly streamed from his eyes.

“If not for my youthful obsession with puppetry and my refusal to strive for more…”

Yan Luo, expressionless, retorted dryly beside him:

“If not for my youthful obsession with video games and my refusal to strive for more…”

While mocking, Yan Luo gripped the millennium-thunder-struck peachwood sword tightly. As the old man prepared to throw the puppet into the fire basin once more, Yan Luo suddenly drew his sword and slashed out! Against the flickering flames, a dark sword light exploded within the temple.

“Crack!”

The delicate puppet girl in the old man’s hands shattered under Yan Luo’s blade.

“No need for you to burn it—I’ll help.”

If he did nothing, the cycle would surely repeat. Yan Luo had deduced the key points of this supernatural realm: the old man and the puppet. The puppet’s rising from the fire to bow was clearly unnatural.

The millennium peachwood sword, tempered by thunder, could slay both ghosts and monsters! Whatever it was, better to strike first.

“This must be breaking the cycle by force…”

If this puppet girl was the cause of the trouble, Yan Luo’s magical sword would be enough to destroy the evil within it. Just as he made this judgment, the mountain temple’s surroundings twisted again.

“Hey, hey, don’t be so ungracious.”

As his voice lingered, the scene shifted to a mountain path under a heavy night sky, wind and snow swirling, with a faint light flickering in the distance.

Yan Luo: “...”

“It’s just repetition. Can the checkpoint please be at the mountain temple? Climbing this mountain in such strong wind and snow is cold.”

“Not very humane at all…”

He grumbled as he trudged through the snow, entering the temple for the fourth time. There, he saw the old man and the puppet girl once more. The puppet, previously struck by the millennium peachwood sword, had returned to its original form, dressed in bright red silk with golden trim, stunningly beautiful.

“Could it be…”

“The key to breaking the cycle isn’t the puppet, but the old man himself?”

As he speculated, the old man began to speak again: “When I was young, I loved watching performers put on puppet shows…”

“Sir, I already know.”

“Are you the mountain village’s nagging wife or something?”

The old man ignored Yan Luo’s sarcasm, continuing his monologue. Afterward, he moved the stage forward, preparing to perform again. Yan Luo quickly shifted the stage away before the old man could set it down.

“Let’s see how you perform now.”

Yet, this simple act immediately warped the surroundings, and Yan Luo found himself once more on a mountain path swept by fierce wind and swirling snow.

“How infuriating!”

If Yan Luo had emotions, any ordinary person would have been furious enough to curse the gods thrice.

Just moving the stage caused a reset, forcing him to climb the mountain all over again. Such cruelty!

Expressionless, Yan Luo entered the temple and approached the old man. Before the man could utter another word, Yan Luo drew the millennium peachwood sword and struck decisively. Blood sprayed as the old man’s white hairless head rolled to the floor, tumbling into a corner. The headless body trembled a few times, bleeding profusely before collapsing.

The millennium peachwood sword possessed the power to dispel evil.

If the old man was a ghost or demon causing this phenomenon, killing him would also slay the spirit and break the cycle. Yet as the old man fell, the scene began to distort once more.

Standing on the desolate mountain path amid wind and snow, Yan Luo contemplated the true key to breaking the curse.

By all logic, this supernatural realm revolved around the old man and the puppet girl.

If the puppet was the ghost, the peachwood sword had already slain it. If the old man was the ghost, beheading him should have ended it.

“The mountain road is shrouded in thick fog… What lies hidden within the mist?”

Yan Luo mused. The mountain god’s temple was the focal point of this world’s events. Leaving the mountain path and entering the mist meant stepping outside the bounds of the main narrative. But honestly, this was only a first-level supernatural realm—not highly dangerous. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have ventured into the unknown fog at night.

Walking through the mist, he soon found that the blizzard and fierce wind blocked his way. He had no choice but to turn back. It seemed impossible to leave the scene of this incident.

“Then back into the temple again.”

Being devoid of emotion, Yan Luo felt no annoyance. He patiently returned to the mountain god’s temple. He saw statues of the golden-armored mountain god, the judge, and little demons, and hesitated—could the key to breaking the cycle be related to these statues?

Though unlikely, there was no harm in trying.

Yan Luo drew the Coiling Dragon Staff and smashed the statues—the broken mountain god, judge, and demons—into pieces. In a first-level supernatural realm, genuine mountain gods or judges of the underworld would not appear, so he had no fear of divine retribution. He even shouted:

“Breaking the Four Olds!”

This was the “Socialist Iron Fist,” sweeping away all evil spirits and demons, intimidating any lurking mountain gods.

As Yan Luo smashed the statues with fervor, the old man seemed oblivious, continuing his complaints and performing “The Peony Pavilion.” He lamented how his youthful indulgence had left him with nothing but a puppet.

This time, as the old man prepared to discard the puppet into the fire basin, Yan Luo summoned the Olympic Sacred Flame.

Undoubtedly, as a supreme fire energy, the Sacred Flame would deal devastating damage to ghosts and demons. Yan Luo’s right hand was wreathed in flames as he grabbed the puppet. The faint Olympic rings shimmered as the puppet instantly burned to ashes without resistance.

Time and space shifted once again, resetting the scene.

Yan Luo climbed the mountain and entered the temple. This time, he used the Olympic Sacred Flame to reduce the old man to a pile of ashes.

The cycle restarted.

“Alright, you’re ruthless!”

Yan Luo muttered without concern. This time, climbing the mountain temple, he drew the Coiling Dragon Staff and began practicing the Ten Directions Staff Technique. Since he had time to spare, honing his staff skills and increasing proficiency in this inner world was a good use of the time.

“‘The blossoms once bloomed in radiant hues, now all fallen to ruins and desolation; how can such fine days and beautiful scenes be so ill-fated? Who then shall enjoy these fleeting pleasures?’”

Accompanying the old man’s melodious voice and the puppet girl’s lively dance was the vigorous shout of a young man:

“One pillar upholding the sky!”

…

Yan Luo had already stripped down to just his underwear, revealing his toned muscles. Though the weather was cold, as an intermediate-level life form, his body heat surged from the vigorous staff practice. The 62-pound staff felt a bit heavy, and he was sweating profusely.

Beads of sweat traced down his pale body. Every swing of the staff tightened the streamlined muscles in his arms and thighs, radiating a strong sense of life and power.

“Sir.”

Yan Luo called to the old man singing by the fire basin, “Could you change the song? I’ve already heard ‘The Peony Pavilion’ eight times!”

“How about ‘Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss’ instead?”