When Valoran meets the hero of American comics

Immersion is the only way to produce perfection.

Even "players" who regard themselves as artists cannot guarantee that they can devote themselves to it every time they create a work.

However, the problem does not lie with him, but because most of the people he chooses to be the carriers of his works are unwilling to understand the greatness they will bear, and refuse to communicate and accommodate spiritually with talented artists.

Therefore, in order to get truly perfect works, in addition to inspiration and talent, you also need a little luck.

Jhin's luck is not bad, he can feel that this is the closest he has ever come to surpassing the peak of his skill.

The familiarity of copying, the blank space for free flow, and the sense of urgency brought about by the time limit all made his inspiration flow uncontrollably.

A raging flame ignited in his chest, and after being extremely concentrated, he even realized the consciousness of Berea, making his eyes full of despair reveal a radiance of compassion.

The carving knife gently cut across the stretch of skin. Although the speed was not fast, it was very natural. The delicate muscle texture was analyzed before the eyes of the eyes before the tip of the knife pressed down the dent.

The metal wire slowly moves up, and the target bound by it rotates and climbs along with it.

Jhin kept working in his hands, working in perfect harmony with the binding of the metal wire. Blood poured out from the blades, covering the target's body with blood red like dye.

Soon, the knot of the metal wire came to an end, and the hair of Berea, who was still alive, had vaguely touched the ceiling of the church.

This means that the flesh angel is about to die, and it also means that Jhin's work has come to an end.

At this moment, however, a mutation arose.

The earth wailed and the church began to shake violently.

"呲"

Jin, who was too immersed in his energy and failed to notice the change in time, was affected and subconsciously stabilized his body. However, the carving knife that originally wanted to gouge out layers of feather patterns was deflected, and a deep cut was made on the chest and abdomen of the work. A narrow wound to the bone is visible.

The metal wire had completed the pulling work, but Jhin did not let it release the flesh angel, nor did he perform the final finishing work.

He stood quietly in the church, looking at the works hanging around without saying a word.

The eyes under the mask had a reddish luster, and the unique enchanted carving knife creaked as it was pinched by the white palm.

There will never be perfection again. This one missed move destroyed the concept and artistic conception of the entire work, and wiped out most of Jhin's hard work for more than half a month.

Jhin didn't think about correcting it. Artists are all critical. Whether it is repairing or continuing to create with the flaws themselves, it is shamelessly vulgar to the "player" who regards "beauty" as the highest pursuit.

Jhin casually threw the carving knife to the ground. He was filled with anger and didn't know how to vent it.

Without the coercion of the fiery consciousness, Berea quickly lost his life.

The artist still paid no attention to it, but stared blankly at the abdominal wound that was getting bigger and bigger as the suspended body swayed, as if he saw Ingres with "Guan Gong on the Dragon" behind him in "The Bathing Girl of Varson".

"powerful"

"fear"

"hate"

The noisy roar resounded in the sky of New York. Jin, who also heard it, turned his head in displeasure and only glanced outside the church without paying much attention.

He rarely squanders inspiration when condensing his talents, so he has no intention of changing from a creator to a performer.

What's more, he can sense that the annoying guy is confronting his boss and companions, and a war is about to begin, and he hates this barbaric stage without any sense of art, which will make him feel like he is in a room full of people. It's a greasy and wine-stained down-and-out tavern that performs for a drunk Wei to make a living.

Just thinking about that scene for a moment made him feel uncomfortable all over.

Looking at the ceremony table nearby, Jin walked over and picked up the Bible with dark blood spots on it.

It used to be Berea's favorite, and he had witnessed more than once how people changed from "one" to "pieces".

Originally, Jhin planned to let Berea, who had become a "flesh and blood angel", hold it and "fall from the sky" to complete the final artistic sublimation and beautiful composition, but now

After thinking about it, the artist spread it out and placed it in Berea's hand, which was still holding it.

At this time, the hanging corpse has lost the unique freshness of life. The dried blood stains make his body look a bit dry. With the old Bible he is reading in his hand, even though the fleshy wings that have been carved on the back have not yet been extended, the composition It also has a different kind of beauty.

“It’s not like I gained nothing”

With a slight wave of his hand, the wound that almost opened his abdominal cavity disappeared without a trace. Jhin looked back and forth for a long time, then turned and left.

There are still some subtle characterizations that have not been completed, but Jhin feels that there is no need to continue.

This work has long since lost its soul, and when completed it is nothing more than a work of craftsmanship and cannot be called art.

It would be better to just put it here as a half-finished product, and then be burned to ashes together with all sins in a fire that poured out from the flesh and blood slaughterhouse under the church.

After all, searing is also a manifestation of redemption.

However, before reaching the door of the church, another shaking feeling hit me, even more violent than before.

Jhin's steps did not pause, as if he did not notice that the sacrifices behind him had lost their magical protection and were staggering in the earthquake. The shaking of the powerful level did not reflect on him at all, and the artist still maintained his calm and graceful grace.

"swoosh"

The work that was hanging in mid-air was thrown away. It was not a problem with the metal wires, but a break in the structure of the church ceiling.

Jhin stopped and watched as the half-finished "Flesh Angel" was slapped vertically on the wall next to the church door in front of him, and then fell for the second time, descending to the mortal world in a horizontal way.

The fleshy wings gathered at the back were spread out, not only did they not have any shocking beauty, but they looked as embarrassed as a quail falling into the water.

Buildings flew down and walls began to crumble.

A broken wall stone hit it, squeezing out all the blood inside, staining the surrounding dust red, and also soaking through the Bible that fell aside to sublimate artistic beauty.

Jhin looked at it calmly, looking at the work that was pressed under the stone like a dead bat.

What he calls art and pursuit seems to be nothing in the eyes of some tyrannical idiots.

"hate"

"only"

A huge roar came, awakening Jhin from his daze.

Looking around blankly, there was a mess and blood all over the ground.

"The only life that does not know how to revere the sublime is not worth mentioning in my eyes."

With a chuckle, Jhin took out the "Whisper" and related accessories and began to load and assemble it. The magic texture on the gun wall became shimmering and fused with each other, becoming more complex and dense.

He originally didn't want to participate in those boring things when he came to the stage, but he couldn't help but someone always jumped out to promote the rhetoric of "rudeness and barbarism is everything".

Therefore, it is necessary for him to let that fool understand: what is art and what is cruelty.

Jhin reached out and touched the blood flowing on the ground, and used it as paint to draw a strange symbol on the forehead of the mask.

Then, he determined the direction, carried the "Whisper" that had changed from a pistol to a long firearm on his shoulder, and rushed to the battle site unhurriedly.

The curtain rises and the artist and his beloved take the stage.

A costume, some heavy makeup, and a lot of blood.

Behind him, the scarlet mist surged and spread, and soon turned into an illusory wave.

At the junction of water and sky, a blood moon is rising.