Buzz!
On a path through the fields, a boy walked with his head down.
Just then, a boy his age suddenly ran out, patted his shoulder, "Hey, school's out today, still coming to your place to watch Pokémon animation?"
When the boy heard about watching Pokémon animation, a brilliant smile immediately bloomed on his face, "Sure, when my dad goes to work, the computer is all mine."
The other boy hugged him tightly, "You're the best, when school's out, I'll buy two bags of shrimp crackers."
Time flew by.
In a middle school classroom, a young boy sat in the last row, sleeping soundly, shielded by a wall of books stacked on a shelf, his own little world.
The young boy suddenly shouted, "I choose you, Dragonite!"
The sudden outburst startled the teacher who was lecturing, leaving him bewildered.
"Hey, you, sleeping in class and talking in your Sleep! Get out and stand there, clear your head!"
"Hahahaha." The other students in the classroom burst into laughter.
The young boy walked out, his face flushed, and stood silently outside.
The teacher's words from inside just reached his ears, "Everyone, don't be like some classmates. Don't let one bad apple spoil the whole bunch."
The scene shifted again, to a university campus.
A young man, hugging his laptop, watched an animation where a certain ageless boy and a yellow-skinned rodent finally became the World Champion, cheering excitedly.
"Hey, everyone's sleeping, can you be a bit quieter!"
The young man quickly apologized and turned down the volume.
However, a few people in his dorm room spoke with some confusion:
"Who's that 'certain someone'? Why can't I say his name when it's on the tip of my tongue?"
"Yeah, what was 'that certain someone's' name again?"
In the grueling 9-to-5 life, often with overtime, a man, worn out by life and reeking of office, was dominated by the empty promises of his boss.
He couldn't rest even after returning home, instead constantly typing on his computer keyboard, completing the extra work for the next few days.
In the WeChat group, one message notification after another rang out. When the man opened them, what came through were still words from his leader urging diligence.
"That certain someone in our department has been positive and proactive recently, not only completing today's work but also taking on the work for the next few days. Everyone should learn from him; a promotion and raise will be no problem in the future."
Upon hearing this, the man's face showed no smile, but his humility compelled him to press the voice key and say:
"Okay, boss, I will work hard!"
Whoosh.
The voice message was sent, the phone screen went dark, and a tired face was reflected on the black screen.
The man looked at his reflection in the screen, and somewhat confused, touched his face, "Me? Who am I?"
Ding!
A pop-up suddenly appeared on his computer, filled with work documents, playing an episode of Pokémon animation.
"Since you asked so sincerely, we will mercifully tell you: To prevent the world from being destroyed, to protect the peace of the world... We are Team Rocket, who traverse the galaxy, White Hole..."
The scene fast-forwarded, a figure sitting on a sofa, deep in darkness, slowly appeared. At his feet was a lazy Persian, yawning and looking out at the screen.
The shadowy figure's face slowly emerged, and then he spoke to the man:
"What are you still doing here? Have you forgotten who you are? Have you forgotten your waiting companions? Giovanni!!"
The man's eyes suddenly widened, "Yes, I am Giovanni!"
The man's heart beat like a drum, pounding against his chest repeatedly. He was certain—he was Giovanni, and everything before him was merely layers of illusion.
The surrounding scenery began to fluctuate violently. Memories of overtime and of "that certain someone" peeled away like weathered statues, revealing the hidden truth beneath.
"I am Giovanni, this is not my life," he growled.
As he declared, the space around him seemed torn by an invisible force. Time began to flow backward, and scene after scene of illusion, like a fast-rewinding movie, shattered one by one.
He closed his eyes, letting himself be immersed in this strange sensation.
Time seemed to flow backward, and scene after scene of illusion shattered like bubbles: the laughter in the university dorm, the awkwardness in the middle school classroom, the carefree days on the childhood path... Every scene left a mark in his heart, then vanished without a trace.
Each time an illusion shattered, he felt a power surge from within him. It was his own power, a steadfast adherence to his true self.
It was Power of Viridian, a strong physique forged through arduous training, and experience honed between life and death!
Finally, when the last illusion—that of himself suffocating under the weight of work—collapsed with a crash, he opened his eyes.
Before him was no longer the cold study, but an infinitely dark and silent void.
Above, the illusory middle-aged Giovanni still looked down at him, and the Haunter behind him was still laughing maniacally.
It wasn't until they saw Giovanni's suddenly opened eyes that they felt a hint of panic.
The middle-aged illusory Giovanni roared loudly, "This is impossible! You fake should have remained in eternal despair!"
Although Giovanni was silent below, when he opened his mouth, his voice resonated throughout the entire space.
"Fake? The real fake is you! If the true Giovanni were really like you, then I would still replace him either way! I will live and no one will stop me!"
The illusory middle-aged Giovanni growled venomously, "You're dreaming! You should sleep forever, never waking up from the nightmare again!"
A giant Haunter's massive claw reached down, striking fiercely at Giovanni.
Giovanni's eyes were utterly calm. He simply raised a hand and pointed lightly, "In my world, it's not up to you to decide!"
As Giovanni's words fell, his fingertip bloomed with dazzling light. It was a power from the depths of his soul, an ultimate eruption of self-awareness.
The light instantly enveloped the giant Haunter's claw, freezing it in mid-air, then slowly dissipated, as if it had never existed.
The illusory middle-aged Giovanni's face turned to utter horror. He couldn't believe what was happening before his eyes.
Meanwhile, Giovanni slowly stood up, his gaze like a torch, looking directly at the illusory middle-aged Giovanni above him, his voice deep and powerful: "I am Giovanni, the one and only Giovanni. Whether it's an illusion or reality, no power can make me lose myself."
As Giovanni spoke, the surrounding space began to vibrate violently, as if the entire illusory world was rejecting this existence that did not belong to it.
Giovanni waved his hand, and the figures of the illusory middle-aged Giovanni and Haunter began to blur. Their voices became ethereal, finally turning into specks of starlight and dissipating into the darkness.