I Forged the Myth of the Ancient Overlords
Chapter 253 - 253 252. The Self-Cultivation of a Horror Movie Actor

Chapter 253: 252. The Self-Cultivation of a Horror Movie Actor (Monthly Ticket Additional Update!)_1 Chapter 253: 252. The Self-Cultivation of a Horror Movie Actor (Monthly Ticket Additional Update!)_1 After returning from Jiangcheng City Mental Hospital, Lu Ban felt much more at ease.

He had contacted actual mental patients and, through conversations and chats with them, acquired a lot of first-hand information.

Before, Lu Ban had only a superficial understanding of mental illness, just like many other common, normal people, he found it bizarre, incomprehensible, strange, and impossible to communicate with.

But after actual contact, Lu Ban felt that these patients suffering from illnesses were just like ordinary people, only their way of thinking had deviated due to their illnesses.

Take the typical case of delusional disorder, for instance, they seem neurotic, always fearful or hating something that doesn’t actually exist. But in reality, they only often fantasize and mistake their imaginations for reality. Imagine if there was an ugly creature by your side in reality, you would also want to chase it away, wouldn’t you? The actions taken by patients with delusional disorder are just rational and normal. That is to say, apart from taking delusions for reality, they are no different from ordinary people.

Even some patients with delusional disorder create their own worldview and act according to the rules of this worldview. From this point of view, they are actually quite normal within their own delusions and may even be more normal than many ordinary people who don’t even know what they think about every day.

Understanding this point, the thought process of mental patients can be captured.

The reason why Lu Ban studied mental patients was to learn their irrational characteristics.

As is well known, the most terrifying aspect of horror-themed works is the monsters or dangers that are incomprehensible.

When the protagonists don’t know what is chasing, killing, or threatening them, and they have no idea when and from where the thing might emerge, that is the most terrifying moment.

If those ghosts and goblins could be understood, seen through, or even annihilated, the sense of terror would completely disappear.

In horror games, if there’s only a flashlight, anything that pops up could scare the players half to death, but if you give the players a gun loaded with bullets, they’ll just shout for more monsters to come at them.

A danger that cannot be fought, only avoided, will trigger people’s unease.

And mental patients fit this very well.

In many works, just the appearance of a mental patient is enough to create a terrifying atmosphere, and if that patient is unkempt, withered, clutching a tattered baby doll, and singing a nursery rhyme, it is definitely memorable.

Lu Ban returned home, the television was still on, displaying those online stress-relieving industrial manufacturing videos; this time it was about mirror-making.

He saw the Lu Ban in the mirror seemed to enjoy watching these, staring intently at the screen.

The two clouds of mist on the sofa didn’t care at all, and appeared to have fallen asleep.

Lu Ban sat in front of the computer, opened a document, and began to record his insights from the day.

In three days, on the last day of April, the May Day holiday would start, and on the afternoon of the 30th, everyone was already distracted from work, merely contemplating how to spend the upcoming holiday.

However, for the cinema staff, the holiday was far from relaxing.

During the May Day Golden Week, many movies would be released, heralding the start of the summer season, including “The Madman’s Mouth”.

The presale box office of “The Madman’s Mouth” had already approached fifty million, which, for a horror thriller, was already an impressive achievement. You see, many similar movies have total box office takings of just that much, and horror films, naturally synonymous with B-movies, are mostly characterized by low budgets and low box office figures.

After all, with large productions and big investments, who would make horror movies? Wouldn’t it be better to make a superhero or disaster film?

The cost-effectiveness of horror movies is very low.

May 1, midnight.

“The Madman’s Mouth” premiere.

Countless audience members flocked to the cinemas at night, eager to catch a glimpse of the first work under Lu Ban’s horror movie universe.

Bai Qiquan, a student from Yannan Media University, and his girlfriend Pang Zhen were among them.

Lately, Bai Qiquan had been studying horror films, and after being baptized by “Cry,” his interest in the genre began to grow. He hadn’t watched many before, and these days he was catching up feverishly, not even sparing B-movies. To him, the tropes of horror films had become all too familiar.

It was nothing more than an unexpected thing jumping out to scare you, using some disgusting stuff to repel the viewer, coupled with tomato sauce, severed limbs, chainsaws, and set in hospitals, mental institutions, schools, and the like.

This year he would have to prepare his graduation thesis, and Bai Qiquan was considering whether to take up horror film research as a topic.

Walking into the cinema, Bai Qiquan noticed that many people were still smiling.

This was normal, too, because the success of “Cry” had brought horror movies into the public eye, and more and more people began watching them. This was also the reason for the presale box office for this time.

Which means, many of today’s audience were just there for the hype of the midnight premiere, without any direct understanding of Lu Ban’s horror films beforehand.

Bai Qiquan felt a bit of schadenfreude, but upon reflection, he realized that he was now seated among the audience, and it was uncertain who would end up looking more foolish.

He fell silent.

The movie started, and he calmed his mind to watch.

Over a hundred minutes later.

With the rolling of the credits and the end theme song, the vast cinema fell into silence.

Bai Qiquan stared at the screen, his mind a blank slate.

This was not quite the same as being scared or feeling fear.

If watching “Cry” and Lu Ban’s other works had brought him a direct sense of fear, like venomous snakes coiling around him, then this film felt as if it had forcibly crammed a load of things into his head.

Some people have this experience as children, living only in their own homes, between kindergarten and primary school, thinking the world is very small, just that big. But suddenly, they see something grand, like the ocean, the boundless starry sky, or those vast and bustling cities. The feeling in that instant is what Bai Qiquan had recognized.

It was a fear that he could not control, understand, or comprehend. When the credits ended and the cinema lights came on, Bai Qiquan cried.

He felt as if his life was meaningless, that everything was a sham. Just like the protagonists in the movie, just like that novelist, all his efforts could not stop the world from inexorably moving towards destruction.

The movie seemed like a switch that, once flipped, left him feeling utterly void.

“Lu Ban, this person, is so terrifying!”

In a moment of profound reflection, Bai Qiquan thought deeply.

*

Second monthly ticket additional update for September 3/3