Little Jack silently recited the name and wandered back and forth outside the door. In the unbelievable eyes of the receptionist, he looked like a devout believer, clasping his hands in prayer.
"David! David Victor!"
The receptionist even went to the lounge to touch up her makeup, but she still couldn't impress this weirdo who only had "stories" in her heart.
She followed Jack to the guest room corridor. Frustrated and angry, she leaned at the end of the corridor, wanting to see what this weirdo wanted to do.
Little Jack was about to knock on the door——
——The heavy door suddenly opened a crack, and a cold wind blew out from the half-open door, revealing a thin and stern face.
David Victor remained motionless—the exploding blond curly hair was the most obvious portrait feature in the newspaper, and the tall bridge of his nose gave the entire face a three-dimensional look like a stone sculpture.
The palms are broad and the joints are rough.
The lips are very thick, and there is a cold and contemptuous look in the green eyes.
Little Jack was very happy.
"I didn't expect Mr. David to really live here! It's true! It's true! I finally saw Mr. David alive!"
David Victor didn't respond directly. He just stuck his head out the door, glanced left and right, and happened to see the front desk lady.
The great writer was wearing pajamas and holding two pens, a fountain pen and a quill in his hand, as if he was still working at his desk late at night.
Gently pushing Jack Martin away, David walked out.
Little Jack was still immersed in the joy of meeting his idol and could not notice anything strange.
And David Victor walked up to the hotel employee and walked up to the gorgeous woman.
He was very polite and like a gentleman. He was over 1.8 meters tall and he looked down at the lady at the front desk.
He asked: "It's a little offensive to say it. I just ran into a little trouble with my writing, and I just wanted to go downstairs to discuss it with you."
The front desk lady had doubts on her face: "Why don't you just tell me? Mr. David."
David Victor rubbed his writing tools, holding one in each hand, as if he could work with both hands at the same time when writing a story.
"This is a long story. I hope you can understand my true feelings and listen to these complaints slowly."
"All the novels I serialized in newspapers were mainly for male readers, and I never considered the feelings of female readers."
"But when I saw the Grand Canyon, I suddenly understood the true meaning of life. Wild deer began to test each other before the estrus, chasing and playing, and the matriarchal clan group of jackals hunted together with their children - they were biting
Have fun and learn how to survive.”
"The birth and disappearance of life are inseparable from the mother."
"So I began to worry that no matter what, my work could not express true feelings to everyone, especially women, especially mothers or women who are about to become mothers, and I hope it can become better, stronger, and more
of reality.”
"So, I'm going to draft a publication with a female protagonist. But first, I need to understand women."
Front desk lady: "Mr. David, what do you think? How can I help you?"
David Victor was not joking at all. He was serious and determined, and there was no hidden or erotic hint in his eyes - only the passionate pursuit of art.
"I hope I can take an offense and try to understand your feelings as a woman, such as things that I don't have, such as the pain caused by swelling of the breasts during menstruation, and the endocrine disorders leading to bipolar mood when the body loses blood.
And a crazy sense of loss. If possible - I want to experience your life and be a prostitute, even if it's just for a moment."
The front desk lady has never heard such a strange request.
She couldn't figure out what the best-selling author David Victor wanted to say, but driven by instinct and intuition, she felt dangerous and offensive!
"Mr. David, a prostitute also has the dignity of a prostitute! Are you kidding me?! What on earth are you trying to say!"
David Victor: "Even just for a moment? Not even a moment?"
The lady at the front desk spoke righteously: "I'm going back to work, David. I've clearly marked the price. You can get me for only twenty cents. If you don't pay, I won't listen to you."
David Victor: "Even if it's just a touch, even if it's just a lick, isn't it okay?"
Front desk lady: "Go away! You bastard! Who are you looking down on!"
David Victor picked up the pen and wrote a line of words on the front desk lady's face.
[Please tell me everything that passes through [Hell Highway]!]
At that moment, a warm monsoon blew in from the window.
Something happened!
Jack Martin was extremely convinced.
Although he couldn't see the spirit body, this familiar feeling, this sudden psychic impact, this hot gust of wind made him convinced that-
——David Victor!
He has soul power! He has super powers!
But in the blink of an eye, Mr. David's eyes widened, as if he had seen a scene that was incredible, incomprehensible, and impossible to look at directly.
There were tears in his eyes, snot and saliva flowed out from his nose, and there was an inexplicable flush on his face - just a few seconds passed.
The front desk lady finally woke up from her mind-controlled state, and the ink stains on her face seeped into her skin and disappeared. She looked at the confused Mr. David, as if he was seeing a psychopath, and cursed
Run downstairs.
David Victor finally breathed a sigh of relief.
"It's such a wonderful experience...Does it turn out that women are this kind of creature? I really want to know more, I want to understand more."
Talking to himself all the way, David walked towards the door and passed by Jack Martin.
Jack was about to speak——
——But I saw that along the way, there was the smelly urine that fell from Mr. David's trousers. It was weird and bizarre.
...
...
[Part2·Check your academic qualifications]
The bell rang at four o'clock in the morning.
David Victor turned sideways and squeezed through the half-open door.
Through the crack in the door, I quietly watched the young man outside.
"You want to knock on my door, right?"
It's like asking a question after a century -
——Jack can finally have a word with his idol!
He immediately asked: "Are you David Victor?"
Mr. David changed his tone and mocked Jack's intelligence mercilessly.
"A question like yours is as boring as bumping into me in the toilet and asking me if I'm taking a dump - but if you force me to answer, I will tell you openly and honestly, yes."
"I am David Victor."
"Hahahahaha...ha..." Little Jack laughed out of breath, feeling guilty inside, "Mr. David, were you just...asking a woman to expose her breasts to you? Are you teasing her?"
David became sinister: "No, I'm going to let you open your heart to me."
Little Jack: "Are you serious? Ha...really?"
David replied: "If you can pronounce the names of the protagonists in my three works, I will give up this idea."
Little Jack got excited: "Wood Placker! Veha Adams! And Lois Washington, who will be serialized soon!"
"Oh? Oh oh oh oh!" Mr. David's eyes lit up, and the half-open door gradually opened, "Have you actually seen my works?"
Little Jack: "Yes! You are my idol! Mr. David!"
"Then please tell me..." As if he was worried, David Victor was still embarrassing little Jack: "Why are you reading these stories?"
"Because of the real and exciting look and feel!" Little Jack described it plausibly and elatedly: "Mr. David's pen is like a magician's wand! The weapon breaks bones, and bullets cut open the body, like [jelly or sticky]
Cornmeal balls] This description is not disgusting at all. The coherent writing and just the right fragments, to use a wonderful metaphor, are like a group of arrogant ants drilling out worms in my head.
Nest! It emptied out my brain! I only have one thought in my mind - turn to the next page!"
David smiled sinisterly and asked in a low voice: "Is that really what you think?"
Jack nodded like a chicken pecking at rice.
David: "Well, may I make a humble request?"
Little Jack: "You might as well just say it!"
David: "I want to see what you think. I need more honest answers."
"Of course!" Little Jack said without thinking, completely ignoring how to [open his heart], "Mr. David! If I can help you write! I'm willing to do anything!"
David Victor breathed out the door gently.
"Hell's highway!"
At this moment, Jack Martin felt something was not right.
The strong wind blowing against his face made him involuntarily close his eyes.
It's like time has been taken away!
When he opened his eyes again, the wall clock in the corridor pointed to four-fifteen.
When little Jack looked at David Victor again.
This seemingly ruthless writer was hiding his face and crying at this moment, slumped beside the toilet door, hugging his knees, like a little girl, with distorted and sad facial features.
Mr. David's whisper came from the door.
"I was blackmailed by a Scotsman because I was too rich. The reason for the blackmail was that during the equestrian class, I was found secretly rubbing my dick into the equestrian teacher's tight leather pants."
"I followed the merchant ship to New York State as if I was escaping for my life, but unexpectedly met an Indian girl. The next month I received a love letter from an arrow. As a result, the arrow was shot into my right leg by a mate competitor in the tribe.
.”
"My life before the age of seventeen was mediocre. I was addicted to David Victor's knight-errant novels. I obtained the position of police sergeant through bribery. Except for the first shot, which was relatively accurate, I bruised the wrist bone of my right hand twice when shooting continuously.
But I don’t want to change to a smaller-caliber revolver, thinking that only a large-caliber pistol can match my size.”
"I, Jack Martin, am a small character with no value whatsoever."
The more Little Jack listened, the more something was wrong - because what Mr. David was describing at this moment was exactly the life story of Little Jack!
When his face was covered with cold sweat and he wanted to see Mr. David's appearance clearly.
David Victor's tone suddenly stopped.
"Vincent...isn't he talented?"
"Perfume bottle?"
"Soul power! Arrow!"
"This is all... so interesting!"
In an instant, his expression changed from feeling disappointed, horrified and crying, to being enthusiastic, excited and full of interest.
Mr. David suddenly got up from the ground and grabbed little Jack's collar.
"Jack Martin! Tell me more! Tell me the story about this Oriental! The time is too short! It's too short! I don't have time to see more interesting things!"
"Wait...Mr. David, wait a minute!" Jack's eyes were filled with fear. He didn't understand what was going on.
"It doesn't matter if you don't want to cooperate." David threatened Jack plausibly: "My [Hell Highway] will make you tell all this!"
Jack: "Wait a minute! Mr. David! Wait!"
"I can see your shining proud solar term in front of the wandering destiny! It is calling me, calling the fanatical soul in my heart. It makes my literary thoughts flow, even if I write for twelve hours continuously now, until the sun comes again
You won’t feel tired even when you rise or fall!”
David Victor calls for soul power!
"At the birth of life, on this road leading to death, show me all the scenery on the journey! Highway to Hell!".
One minute later——
——Jack woke up from his dazed state.
"What's going on! What's going on!"
He suddenly lowered his head and looked at his body, and he felt a sense of astonishment in his heart: "Where am I?"
There is a blank space in the memory in the brain, just like what he said - just like the ants building a nest in the brain, the memory becomes fragmented, and the memories are continuously lost from the holes made by the insects.
This chapter is not finished yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content! At this moment, Jack is sitting in David Victor's guest room, sitting in front of the small coffee table next to the desk, holding the cup ear of the coffee cup in his hand.
He could clearly feel the residual warmth on the coffee cup, and there was a strong bitter taste left between his mouthpiece and lips and teeth.
When your tongue stirs the inner wall of your mouth, this coffee bean produced locally in the Americas will produce an inexplicable sour feeling.
Together with a cigarette between the fingers of Jack's right hand, these things made his mouth numb.
Putting down the things in his hands, Jack found it difficult to sort out the clues from the fragmented memory. He developed a strong curiosity about Mr. David, and speculated in his heart about the transcendent power of this great writer.
[What’s wrong with my head?]
[Why can’t I remember anything?]
[I remember clearly! I was standing outside the door just now, but now I am suddenly sitting at Mr. David’s desk.]
[The empty part in the middle! Where did it go?!]
Before he could wait, Jack Martin used his little genius brain to figure out the answer -
A string of small words pulled him out of his confusion.
"Is that all?"
"Is this the only description?"
"The clues in the first draft are messy, and the writing is uneven and sloppy. For you, Mr. Jack, can you actually use the adjective [not understanding the beauty of beauty] to describe that Oriental?"
"It's really confusing. If I didn't need two hands to write, seeing this kind of plot, I just want to scratch my scalp at this moment, open the Tianling cover, and smear it with the gray matter of the cerebral cortex on this piece of paper, like this
I can express the thoughts in my head more intuitively.”
"Wen Bucai is obviously your benefactor, and the perfume bottle wants to kill your whole family, but after you came to Sloth Town, you forgot about repaying your kindness - Jack! What happened to you? Why are you so cold-blooded?
?Why is your memory so bad?"
She seemed to feel Jack’s gaze——
——David Victor slowly turned his head.
"You're looking at me, right? Are you awake?"
Deep voice, gloomy eyes.
These features immediately frightened little Jack into nodding his head.