Extraordinary Starts from Tearing up the Script

To be honest, the writing was very good at the beginning, but at this point, although the protagonist is played, he has too many labels in the eyes of others. The first volume is warrior, loyal, rebel, hero, saint, and the beginning of the second volume is cold-blooded poet. With so many subconscious characters, I only have one word to describe it: schizophrenia.

I estimate that this book will not exceed 2.5 Million words, because I looked at it and found that each book by the author only has 200,000 to 300,000 words more than the previous book.

After watching the second movie, I feel that the author's imagination is good, and the original work is good no matter how you read it. Even the novel is readable from the perspective of a pig's foot. I feel good about it from the perspective of a pig's foot. Readers' opinions are that this is unreasonable at all, a bit naive, one-sided, and immature. I feel that this empire has been developing subliminal movies for more than a thousand years, and the director should have learned almost everything, right? How come the script is written in such a bad way, the screenwriter has no imagination, but the director can still perform it with peace of mind! This is a master! Come on＾0＾~

The lord's tax collection team continued to drive deeper into the West City, and finally encountered the group of poor people holding farm tools and dressed in ragged clothes. They held tightly to the simple farm tools that were far from capable of competing with weapons, as if it could give them courage and strength. However, the reality is cruel. Compared with well-trained soldiers holding steel knives, what can a group of skinny and skinny people do? The blood flowing on the streets of Xicheng was covered by falling snowflakes. This land was kind-hearted and could not see the blood flowing all over the ground, so it mercifully covered everything. The vacated shacks were occupied by many slaves who had just been released from slavery. Slaves who were grateful to the kind lords filled the vacancy of the mob. Seeing these slaves nodding and bowing when seeing the soldiers every day, wanting to kneel down and kowtow to each other again, Oakley felt that slaves were slaves.

My neighbor is a strange man, a blond foreigner who speaks fluent Mandarin. His appearance and disappearance are a mystery. I still can't forget him. That day, the sound of an accordion suddenly came from the vacant room next to mine. When I opened the door and walked in, I saw a middle-aged man with blond hair sitting in the corner playing. He was thin and his back was slightly arched, but it was obvious that he was sitting as straight as possible and his gold-framed glasses were a bit out of place. I was a little embarrassed, but he politely nodded to me and said, please forgive me for not playing well. After he finished playing a piece of music, he stood up, poured a glass of water, brought it to me who was entranced, and said his name was Old Tang. Old Tang never mentioned his life experience, and we once suspected that he was a spy, but Aunt Wang from the neighborhood committee told us that he had party membership. I was still young at that time, and I often went to listen to Old Tang playing the accordion after school. Every time, Old Tang would get up to get me something to eat, straighten the red scarf on my chest, and then continue playing. What impressed me most was that one day, Grandma Li came back from shopping upstairs and found that her house was on fire. Grandma Li was anxious and frightened at the door, saying that her cat was still in the house. After hearing this, Old Tang picked up the fire extinguisher and rushed in. When he came out, his hands and face had been blackened by the smoke, and even his glasses were blackened. He was holding the dying kitten in his arms. I only remember that day when the fireman uncle sprayed the upstairs with foam, and Old Tang's face suddenly turned black. Later, Old Tang came back from the hospital, but his skin turned sallow, and only the part covered by his glasses still had his original skin color. I also laughed at him as a panda. It was autumn when he disappeared. I remember one day I went to his house to listen to him play, but as soon as I entered the door, I noticed that he was not wearing glasses because his panda eyes were particularly conspicuous. That day I was eating bread and dropped crumbs on the red scarf. He shook his head with a smile, arranged my red scarf, and suddenly said seriously, promise me not to be sorry for the red scarf. I was stunned, and he smiled again and said, "Me too." He started playing the piano with his back to me, trembling slightly. A fallen leaf drifted in by the window. He picked it up and put it carefully into the piano case, then shook his head, took it out, and gently threw it out of the window. What happened next, I can't remember. After that, I never saw him again, and even Aunt Wang from the neighborhood committee didn't know where he went.

Tetris tells us that mistakes will accumulate and successes will disappear; Super Mario tells us that success does not depend on how high you jump, but on how far you run; Contra tells us that what stops you from moving forward is often not the enemy in front, but the black gun behind you; Snake tells us that what defeats ourselves is not sugar-coated bullets, but our ever-expanding self; defeat yourself and you will have no enemies; Angry Birds tells us that there are always a few pigs laughing when you fail; Life tells us not to give up, work hard, friends, fight for a better tomorrow ヽ(•̀ω•́ )ゝ

The author's determination of the plot and the explosive plot are really fascinating. Many plots or famous scenes that he considers to be highly sublime are simply bloody and embarrassing. This novel is not the creative pioneer of the subconscious actor, so the first time I tasted candy so it was so amazing. The point does not exist here. I have to say that the author's control of the plot is really poor.

War. The roar of anti-aircraft machine guns vibrated in my ears, and I could barely hear the captain's mission. "... Vozhannikov!" The battalion commander shook my shoulders, "Battle report, all the battalion's direct escorts were killed except for you. Now I order you to go to the town of Sanshis and capture it." St. Shis. This damn place. The houses had long been demolished. The entire land nearby was plowed over and over again by artillery shells, and there were no bunkers... Except for a few deadly tanks. What's even worse is that we don't have any heavy weapons with matching range. "I'll give you five minutes, bring your equipment and attack!" The battalion commander left with a livid face. The Minister of Munitions came over slowly. Shells exploded above the shelter we had constructed, and a shower of earth clods fell on our hats. "What's the need?" He said. "Do you have any cigarettes?" I took off my armed belt and touched my Tokarev with great treasure - it came from the last battle and was a brand new gun transported from the logistics. I haven't even fired enough bullets out of a gun to kill an enemy. I sent him to the Minister of Munitions. "That's a bribe," I said with a smile. He accepted the bribe and gave me a cigarette, and I asked him for another. I held one cigarette in my mouth without lighting it, and put the other one in my breast pocket. I tied bundles of explosives to the front of the car, took a deep breath, lit a fire on something burning on the ground and lit a cigarette. "Where to go." A strange figure wearing a gas mask climbed into the car and sat in the driver's seat. "Where to go?" He asked again. "Saint Shis." "Oh, hell." "Yeah." "Is there any cigarette?" I gave him my clothes. And lent him a fire. Take a few more with you on your way to hell.

I feel like only the first scene is okay. The castle lords and skylight in the back are just embarrassing and not much described. The logic doesn't make sense. It's so embarrassing that I can use my toes to squeeze out a bedroom and three living rooms

When the protagonist was filming the first scene, he added some points to his marksmanship for the first time, and then immediately fired a few shots in the room. However, the protagonist showed the fact that his marksmanship was poor in the previous scene. The scene shot in this way was seen by many people, and clues would be discovered in the future. You will feel that this protagonist is inexplicable. Why is he suddenly so awesome? He has ten years of marksmanship. It can't be justified, right? And this is subconscious and you won't think about hiding your clumsiness. Come on, author, explain it to me!