I have been writing the book for three years, earning 35 cents a day, and I am starving to death.
Until Siming, the ancestor of the killers I wrote about, broke through the void and came to the door of my rental house.
He said that I ruined his ten-thousand-year ascension and wanted to kill me.
By coincidence, this person was written by me.
It is clearly written in the book of others: the most important thing is cause and effect, and all debts must be repaid.
So if I save his life, will he not be able to kill me?
I started to cause accidents for him and act like he was saving his life all night long.
As a result, he: The hole in the air conditioner was pulled out by the firefighters, he drank anesthetic and passed out by the swimming pool, bought a gun for sniping, and blew up the balloon stall with one shot.
The ancestor of the killer cursed: There are ambushes everywhere in this upper world.
But I still have a secret. When I live a chapter in the book, reality can be another chapter.
He doesn't know, and neither does the reader.
He doesn't even know that he himself is just a chapter written by others.
# #Urbansuspense # #
