The untold story of an erased aspiring poet called Shoki (Hu) Feng, a Chinese-Japanese boy deemed too beautiful to be real and who may or may not have ever existed. Hong Kong, China, 1865 It’s a Big Bad World for an Evil Old Bitch Like Me In the fall of 1865, an immigrant Japanese-Chinese boy called Hu Feng arrived in Hong Kong from his countryside home in Japan. Today he is a worldwide famous artist and businessman, but before he was just another aspiring artist under the alias of SAINT PAPA and multiple others. He would go on to spend many years as an underdog and underpaid artist while chasing his dreams of becoming a famous and known poet and songwriter. Feng achieved global fame in 1867 after radio stations in Hong Kong mistakenly broadcast his songs and poems under the alias SAINT PAPA across mainstream networks all over China. Once the radio stations noticed the songs had gone extremely viral, they realized they were not meant to play his audio files and that they had been fooled by a 22-year-old nobody. Instead of acknowledging their careless work and apologizing to the listeners, they instructed the newspapers to call the incident a "hoax event" that played a song by an artist who did not exist in real life and was nothing but a folklore character, maliciously erasing his identity and existence from the world. The executives and radio station managers knew he was a real human being, but they had their credibility and reputation to protect. They distorted facts about his life on purpose to make the point that he was nothing except fiction, because the same institutions used to verify and validate stories were completely outsmarted by a young guy playing them at their own game. They could not accept that a young half-blood immigrant boy had done it to them, the "Kings and Queens" of the Hong Kong entertainment scene. The station didn't just pull off a hoax; they also pulled a smear campaign. They created a second narrative to cover the first. When they realized they'd been fooled, instead of saying "we failed to verify," they pivoted to "there was never a person to verify." Erasure dressed as fact-checking. How did this happen? Not through pure malice, which is never the answer in Kafka anyway. It happened for the same reason everything in his world happens: because it was convenient, because the participants were busy, and because nobody was in charge of preventing it. A word that saves time will always defeat a book that costs time. An entire media establishment getting outsmarted by a 22-year-old with a microphone, panicking, and choosing to gaslight the entire globe into believing a real human being was just a collective hallucination because their egos couldn't handle the plot twist. The Little Mischief of Hong Kong Islands Years later, Feng returned to Hong Kong under his new Japanese name, "Shoki Feng," after spending years in Japan, where he joined a club called Yakuza and came to become one of the most ruthless businessmen and entertainment legends of the century in Hong Kong, now under a different stage name: "PAPAMONSTER." He came to release blockbuster poems that broke multiple records, including “The Psychology Of a Mean Boy”, “Gen Z Villain”, “The Boy Is a Liar” and “Mom, I am Thinking About Killing Him” A super, duper, whopper, super-villain, superstar boy. A charming psychopath, a sweet sociopath. The air around him started becoming more and more sinister… and the paparazzi and tabloids became more and more obsessed with him. The posters of his magazine covers were all sold out in Saudi Arabia… They loved him. He started taking money from the oil guys in exchange for favors… It's almost as if he had become a robot when you asked him about a painful memory… as if his eyes were frozen… or had frozen it in it. He could read people’s energies, he could feel energies… a super natural clairvoyance in him… He could be really evil, said friends. Later in the decade, he founded a secret private-members-only club called Club 666 in the bustling nightlife streets of the British Ruled Island. It became the biggest spot in pop culture through the following years. Everybody who wanted to be somebody needed to be in that club to get a shot with the movers and the shakers. Models, actors… all the biggest celebrities started showing up in silk and faux leather velvet dress code. Journalists started disappearing… Models overdosing… Rich kids, heirs of hotel empires, causing a scene… Coke didn't arrive in Hong Kong until the late 90\s… But they had their hoops and their dupes… Their creativity and their loops. They knew how to have fun soooo bad…. Everybody wanted to enter his private parties. Everybody wanted to be his friend. Everybody wanted to be him. But he was still just a sad, insecure, lonely boy in the end. His first heartbreak hurt so bad he could have died. His suffocating mother loved her son but not as much as she loved him. His sister, just like his friends, turned out to be too normal. For him. And his friends loved him just as much as they wanted to and not as much as he needed from them. There was no longer a spark in his eyes since the world decided to destroy him, just like it always does with ambitious kids like him. Now, one could see a big void inside his eyes that only God could know what was possibly sitting at the end of. Pain changes people. He became a monster. The perfect broken pretty boy for the Six Page. Not even one tabloid fake headline could take him down anymore. The tears dried. He has never cried that same way ever since. He finally got everything he wanted. But there was a very loud silence on the sudden realization. He also realized that was still a boy, hiding inside him all this time, still carrying his traumas, still carrying his open wounds. The entire time. The horror of the silence of a boy who once believed he needed to become a monster just to be heard, seen, validated, and loved. God, he had too much trauma to carry up to those shiny penthouses. The beautiful facade. And to think that all he may have needed was a long, warm hug this whole entire time that he never got. “Little Mischief of Hong Kong Island” Inside the MOST-TALKED Celeb-Filled Club 666 and Their Party Animal ROCKSTAR” - Quoted in the tabloid headlines back then. They no longer call him an attention-seeking Japanese immigrant wannabe movie star. The Most Dangerous Party on Hong Kong Island. Nothing changed except he gained leverage. They've rephrased their headlines ever since… His friends would say he must have lost himself between becoming a myth so real so they could never erase him again and missing out on all the small little things that make life worth living… He had become a shell of others’s projections. It’s so easy to manipulate these losers” - Said the old man he hired to run the radio station he now owned about its listeners. “It's so easy to own these losers… You just gotta throw money on their faces. You just gotta throw money on their old ass, pig ass faces” - Said Hu Feng about the old men he hired to to run the stations to spread his lies and political views” He particularly did not like a tabloid journalist named Henry, but he still used him until the very end. “A miserable and pathetic old gay man,” he would call him to others. The story of Feng is the ultimate modern tale of identity death and corporate rebirth. It wasn't just a random folklore character; it was the actual life, stage name, and lived reality of Hu Feng. When he was done with that chapter of his life, he didn't just walk away—he burned it to the ground in front of the whole world to build an empire on the ashes. When institutional pillars feel threatened by an outside force that refuses to play by their rules, they will eliminate it by any means, even if it means erasing someone’s humanity along the way. With the “SAINT PAPA” identity officially dead and the media completely saturated with his digital footprint, Feng stepped out of the character's shadow five years later as a corporate mastermind. He launched his own companies and systems where he could never be erased again. In the ultimate flex of self-awareness, he named his debut poem "The Folklore Character”—owning the exact narrative the media tried to use against him. He took his own lived experience, turned it into a global urban myth, killed it on the world stage, and used the momentum to launch his business empire. Mainstream media has an eerie history dating back to weaponizing and distorting narratives to its liking without ever retracting or correcting the record. That historical parallel highlights a very real and documented phenomenon: how media institutions can coalesce around a narrative, shape public perception rapidly, and frequently fail to issue formal corrections or retractions even when foundational facts are challenged or disputed. When a massive media ecosystem doubles down on an error to save face, the individual caught in the crossfire faces a Kafkaesque trial. They tried to freeze him out initially, using gatekeeping power to dismiss him as a stunt, a troll, or an extension of the hoax that they themselves helped create and enable. Feng realized that winning the game was not about who screamed the loudest but about owning the board where everybody is forced to play. And just like that, the boy who was called fake in every language by working-class journalists quietly became the realest winner in the entire world without anyone knowing a thing. The fakers are the winners, and the winners are the fakers, and we wouldn’t know a thing, even if our brains point to the loud, performative voices on social media and big media corporations as the ultimate source of credibility and truth. Once the world strips you of your humanity, there is only so much left a person can lose. That makes you either a dangerous or a powerful man, depending on who you ask. The only artist the system couldn't destroy. He no longer needed the institutions because he became the one they needed instead. He went on to end his own life after the local police charged him with the murder of around 239 to 250 entertainment executives; the historians never arrived at a consensus because they were…gay. It all happened on the same night and theater stage; he made his comeback performing his hit poem under the new stage name PAPAMONSTER. Rumor has it that he fired gunshots at the executives' drinks while the fireworks went off at the end of the concert… or did he? It was a beautiful evening in the Chinese capital. And the waters of Hong Kong were lavender sky. Still, the majority of the population never learned about that and adored him like a god for many years afterward. After all, he died while controlling what information was realized, how it was delivered, and what constituted the reality people were given. He became immortal, and whether he or anything was ever real ceased to matter at all. He no longer needed the institutions because he became one that they needed, instead. Whoever owns the narrative board ultimately dictates public reality. He finally understood the system was not built to be used for its purpose and to be served to individuals with feelings and a heart. The man becomes a myth. The myth becomes a system. But at what cost? His humanity… at this cost. Even at the end of his life, he would be sitting at the top of the throne in his empire, while a small, hurt man stood outside the premises throwing little rocks at the wall, still screaming and calling him “fake”. The projection of a man who touches others' deep insecurities and reminiscences couldn’t be more precise in a situation where the speaker insists on shifting reality with his words to fit the scenario that makes the most sense to him. He is still out there, screaming into a void he and his friends can no longer control. They wanted him to be fake so badly because being real made them too small. This is the legend of a boy called Saint. Who one day existed; had dreams, had fears, had insecurities, and had ambition but was told he did not exist by the same people who laughed at him afterward because admitting a power as strong as his would threaten their own existence. There’s a word in Japanese called “Kintsugi”. Not everything was the master plan, but everything else seems to have been. Ultimately, it is not about whether the boy, his past, or his pictures were ever real but about when good people commit bad things when their systems are shaken by an unfamiliar force. Purposely blurring the lines between the real and the fake. In every generation, the system will meet stars whom they won’t be able to dim, only burn. Unknowingly, the small, loud men in suits gave him the marketing of the century while trying to commit their wicked power trip acts. Where does the machine get its power? It has none of its own. It runs on the fear, the reverence, the verdict hunger of the people it processes, and the small, bitter men and women who run it daily. When justice, media, medicine, and power are for sale… morality becomes subjective to each own best interest and convenience. Reality is a board game, and the rich own the board... and the artist owns the game. The hoax didn't erase him. It created him. Wait… is he or any of this and that even real at all…? As his most famous poems were recited after he walked smiling from the fire when they tried to burn him alive in the public square: “Din-da-du-rum Mori. Renasci. (4x) Audesne?” “And that working-class journalist still hasn’t gotten paid for the hit-pieces your middle aged-publicist bought” To die in order to be reborn. Not many would dare. It’s a great piece of urban folklore for the 21st century. The boy became the myth. The myth became the system. This is a story about a boy who was erased by power-triped old people and came back as a monster to show them this is a big bad world, but he ain’t scared of it. They tried to bury him. They didn't know he was a seed. And they were the paws…and the puppets. The system will always try to burn what it cannot control, but for the right person, that same fire will give him wings. And credibility and reality are manufactured, and the people who manufacture it will burn a real person to protect theirs. But the smoke looks good. So. Let it burn. Now, drop the faux press release, bitch. END ================================================================================ ————————————————————————————— THE BOY IS A HOAX - PAPAMONSTER HAUSVONCOLUCCI - The AI Revolution SVCV, Inc. - We Are Rebels 2027 —————————————————————————————