With the full level of enlightenment, you can rub the fruit of transcendence with your hands!

Chapter 601 Lilia

After the injection, Hagen took out the nutritional paste. This kind of food was tasteless and had no chewing feeling. It was only enough to sustain life and would not bring any positive reaction to people. In order to save costs, the factory even added a lot of illegal things to it, so even the basic sense of fullness was greatly reduced.

Without thinking about what the ingredients were inside, Hagen swallowed the whole thing expressionlessly. After all, some things can be harvested endlessly and new ones will grow soon. The peristalsis of the stomach quickly squeezed the nutrient paste and converted it into traces of heat and energy to fill the dry body.

Hagen wiped his mouth, carefully separated the outer packaging of the nutritional paste, and licked every bit of the remaining content carefully. Then he came to the corner by the window. In order to save costs, he didn't even turn on the lights. Fortunately, there was moonlight.

The paintbrushes and drawing boards that he refused to sell no matter how poor and destitute he was were piled here. Although they were the cheapest of his collections and countless gifts, Hagen was quite used to it.

He did not give up his desire for painting, because it was his only remaining wealth and a skill that he could rely on. This time, he was not pursuing a dream or the pinnacle of art. Hagen just wanted to use painting as a tool, as a way to make money, in exchange for enough money.

He couldn't give up, because this was the only hope he had left in his depressing life, the last bit of light crushed by the dark future. After all, as a former famous painter, he had proved that he could support himself with his own hands.

More importantly, this is the only solution he can think of. He cannot let himself get hurt, nor can he accept any transformation that would destroy his body, because he must ensure that he lives long enough, at least longer than his daughter. Painting is the life-saving straw he clings to, and the spiritual pillar that keeps him alive, because he dare not imagine what he will rely on to face all the suffering when he is sure that there is no chance of turning around in his future and everything is solidified.

"Perhaps I will become famous and my net worth may double. After all, a painter with a story is more likely to impress the upper class with his paintings and sell them at a high price. Compared to art, they prefer to listen to stories. I hope this moment will come soon, at least not until I die before my paintings are sought after."

Hagen could only comfort himself in this way. He set up the drawing board and the white paper, but facing the empty paper, he just couldn't bring himself to start drawing. There was not much drawing paper left, and when he wanted to paint, those memories would come back to his mind.

The messy body parts, the red marks, the evil atmosphere, and the piercing pain made Hagen's hands tremble and his muscles cramp every time he recalled them. He could hardly hold the paintbrush. He could not bear to make any marks on the white paper. The irritability and unreasonable anger in his heart made him want to smash everything in front of him.

Hagen held the paintbrush with trembling hands, but he didn't even paint the first stroke until the paint on the tip of the brush dripped. He put down the paintbrush silently, rubbed his eyebrows, and let out a long breath in anger.

These days, he found himself ill, very ill. Not only was he irritated by the difficulty in creating, but Hagen also found himself suffering from hysteria. Whenever he started painting, countless hallucinations and messy sensory vibrations would flood into his mind.

"Lilia, you're here."

He muttered and looked towards the door. His wife was leaning against the door frame, wearing her beloved dress, looking at him with the same admiration as always.

Hagen does not deny that he is a genius. Even in this chaotic world, in this crazy world, his painting skills are enough to make him a place. The upper class may have absurd hobbies and strange temperaments, but they are not fools and will not tolerate being teased. Hagen is such a genius. He can conquer the hearts of the upper class with his paintings, create art with his hands, and bring himself a beloved wife. He always feels that he is a person blessed by God, and his hands are also the hands of God. If there is really a God in the world, he has been so sure until all that happened.

Lilia is not a gentle person in a broad sense. She has the decisiveness and courage unique to the cyber world, and at the same time she is passionate. When she and Hagen met by chance at an art exhibition, the flame of love engulfed them both, and then they naturally got married, had children, and lived happily together.

As an adult, Lilia showed her gentle side as a wife and mother. The hands that held the gun were equally useful for picking up kitchen utensils, and the legs that could kick away iron plates were equally powerful when cleaning the cabin. It was hard for Hagen to imagine who could defeat his wife who had such strong combat power and skills.

"Yeah, Hagen, here I come."

Lilia said coolly, and it was at this moment that Hagen discovered the tough side of his wife that he had been hiding since they got married.

"Ah, did you bring a gift again this time? Thank you, Lilia, you are always so considerate."

Hagen looked at the rose pinned on his wife's chest and said, like every person who loves art, Hagen, who has outstanding artistic talent, would bring a bouquet of flowers to his wife every time he finished his creative work outside, but he held them in his palms while his wife pinned them on her chest.

This was not the first time. When he once again hit a wall and returned to his residence, looking at the empty room and his dying daughter, he inevitably wanted to end his own life and embrace death together with his daughter. He had been hesitating because he was not sure whether death would be a relief or pain for his daughter. After all, she only lived in her own spiritual world. Perhaps there, there was a father who went out early and came back late, a gentle and strict mother, and everything she was used to and had again. Compared with these happiness, physical pain was nothing.

Hagen always believed that consciousness was greater than the body. His unique artist romanticism made him pay more attention to spiritual enjoyment, until he was close to mental collapse and wavered again.

It was then that he saw his wife again. She was still as beautiful and charming as before, and as resolute and decisive as before. She was like a rose with thorns, which made him willing to be pricked by the sharp thorns while embracing the flower.

"Hagen, do you want to be a coward and escape?"

Hagen was not sure whether he was saying this or his phantom wife. Compared to his own madness, everything was just his one-man show. He would rather believe that it was his wife who broke free from the mud of death and came back to him, just like every time he dragged his tired but expectant body, opened the door, and saw his wife who had prepared meals and his daughter rushing towards him.

"No, I'm not. I would never run away. You know me, Lilia."

(End of this chapter)