At first, Borrowgo didn't understand the charm of Blue Jay's new book, which actually made Palmer so excited. When Borrowgo got up the next day, he deeply realized the charm of Blue Jay.
Influence.
The front-page headlines of newspapers all over the street are about the new Blue Jay book. The door of the bookstore is crowded with people. People are inquiring about the new Blue Jay book and paying to reserve books that they don't even have the title of.
"Is the blue jay so famous?"
Boluogo stood on the side of the road, looking at the crowded crowd and sighing.
"Certainly, he was kind of a pioneer in fantasy," Palmer said.
"Before Blue Jay, the books everyone wrote were all about cold reality, while Blue Jay's stories were full of romantic fantasy, such as his most famous "Night Hunters."
His appearance made people realize that stories can not only write about absolute reality, but also imagine the ethereal unknown."
"Is this so..."
Boluogo thought about it for a while and felt that all this was reasonable.
Hundreds of years ago, there were no such high-rise buildings in the world, but castles and farms erected in the wilderness. There were no movies, but only poems sung by travelers.
It is only in recent years that these artistic themes have been released at an accelerated pace... If you think about it carefully, the emergence of movies is only a hundred years old.
Human history is like a bumpy curve. As we enter modern civilization, the curve surges like waves, throwing away the past.
Palmer asked, "I'm really looking forward to it. What do you think that story will be?"
"Isn't it clear what Dudel said on the radio?" said Burlogo. "An autobiographical fantasy."
"Autobiography and Fantasy?"
Palmer whispered, and then he laughed, "It's strange that Blue Jay's works are well known, but Blue Jay is very mysterious."
"As an acclaimed author, if you think about it, you realize there's nothing people know about blue jays."
"Know nothing?"
"Yes, people still don't know what Blue Jay's real name is. It is said that only the editors of the publishing house know it, because only by knowing his real name can the royalties be credited to his account.
Apart from these, Blue Jay's past, his experiences, everything about him is an unsolvable mystery."
Palmer said and laughed, "By the way, there is also his Daisy Castle, which is the residence of the blue jay, but he is the only one who lives in that huge castle, and he does not allow anyone to approach him.
It’s not good to be lonely and eccentric.”
I guess Daisy Castle is now surrounded by people. Reporters are everywhere, trying to pry news of his new book out of his mouth, or even stealing his manuscript."
Boluogo raised his hand and grabbed the fluttering newspaper from the wind.
"He's no longer at Daisy Castle," said Burlogo, handing the newspaper to Palmer. "He knew the news about the new book would cause a stir, so the Blue Jay went on a trip."
"A journey..."
Palmer threw the paper back into the wind and brought up another mystery with Borrowgo.
"Do you know the woman with fire opal eyes?"
"Who is that?"
"The blue jay is a character that often appears in books, just like a mascot. No matter what kind of story, she will always appear."
Listening to Palmer's words, Burlogo sketched a ghost in his mind. She shuttled through various stories, was not controlled by the plot, and remained almost forever.
"Then what?"
"No more, Blue Jay is mysterious. Except for his works, he almost never appears in public." Palmer's eyes were full of expectation. "I mention this because Blue Jay's new book will explain this."
Everything about a woman.”
Burlogo shook his head, showing little interest in this. He didn't know much about blue jays. The only thing he knew about was "Night Hunters" and he hadn't finished reading it yet. It was really difficult for him to understand Palmer's emotions.
The two of them continued to move forward, and suddenly the cold sense of voyeurism rose in Boluogo's heart again. Boluogo turned around suddenly and looked at the bustling crowd behind him, and at the same time, the cold sense of peeping disappeared.
.
"What's wrong?"
"It's nothing," Boluogo shook his head, but there was still caution in his eyes, "Let's go."
Among the dense crowd, the man hid in the shadow of the alley, panting heavily. Boluogo was far more vigilant than he imagined. After being nervous, what followed was a sense of joy at having passed the danger.
He let out a burst of evil laughter and kept whispering, "I see him, I see him."
The man seemed to be talking to another person, another person who was everywhere watching all this.
Soon, a full sense of satisfaction rose from the bottom of his heart, and the man's eyes turned white. With great joy, he knew that he had successfully pleased that existence.
Next to the man, there was another thin figure. He did not see Boluogo, so naturally he could not receive the reward from that existence.
Uncontrollable fatigue tortured his mind. He looked at the man enjoying himself with envy and scratched his face repeatedly. He soon thought of something.
Pulling out the short knife, the cold metal slit the man's throat while he was enjoying a pleasant climax.
The man's eyes widened, looking at the thin figure, covering his throat, his eyes full of anger and fear, and then he saw the eyes of the thin figure, eyes full of joy.
What a drama it is to die at the moment of joy.
The thin figure was enjoying his work. He felt that he had provided a perfect picture for that being.
Correspondingly, that beautiful grace also came to his heart, temporarily freeing him from pain and torture.
Seeing the satisfied look on the other person's face, the man understood something. He lowered his head and blood spilled all over the floor, gathering into a blood-colored mirror. The mirror reflected the man's miserable side.
The man was about to die, dying with endless sorrow, and then he felt that the being would like such a scene.
Yes, he would like this picture.
The man tore his own throat open with his backhand, and a vague and evil sound came from the wound.
"Did you see that?"
The man used his life to please that being. At the moment of death, he vaguely heard the sound of applause, and then a huge sense of satisfaction filled his mind. He fell down little by little, with a feeling that words cannot describe.
He died happily and contentedly.
The thin figure beside him was also immersed in satisfaction, but seeing the man die in such satisfaction made him feel jealous and angry.
This man is always like this, good at pleasing that existence, even after death.
But it doesn't matter, he is dead, but he is still alive.
He was scratching his head and thinking, how should he continue to please that existence, and should he still follow Boluogo? Yes, as long as he saw Boluogo, that existence would be kind to him.
He was thinking this, and just as he was about to walk out of the alley, some gravel fell from above his head and hit him. He raised his head and saw a dark figure standing on the edge of a tall building.
"I saw him."
He said with joy on his face, not caring about the crisis he was in. The next moment, the black shadow jumped down, and the sharp folding knife was thrown out and extended.
The moment Boluogo crossed paths with this short man, the narrow blood line spread, stretched, and collapsed.
The folding knife easily cut off the man's arm, and before he could scream, Boluogo turned the folding knife back and pressed the back of the knife against his throat, blocking out the screams.
"Who are you?"
Boluogo asked, while the breeze blew by, and a twisted barrier wrapped around the place, blocking all sounds.
Palmer stood at the entrance of the alley, with a glimmer in his eyes.
After being promoted to a believer, Palmer's secret power, the source of wind, was promoted and he took another step forward on the road to wind.
The enhanced secret power has brought Palmer closer to controlling the airflow. Now he can easily control a vacuum area within the scope of influence, and even build a vacuum barrier to isolate the transmission of all sound waves.
Boluogo looked at the smiling man in front of him in confusion. He couldn't understand why the man was peeping at him, let alone why the man wanted to kill another man.
What happened just now did not escape Boluogo's sight. He stood on the edge of the roof and saw the two people killing each other.
To be honest, that scene made Boluoge feel a little chill in his heart. Without any warning, the two of them killed each other and committed suicide just for fun...
Looking at the man in front of him, Boluogo noticed something strange about him. The man's eyes were extremely dark, with a slight sheen on the dark surface, just like...
Just like a camera.
Bologg was confused by this strange metaphor, and then the man became restless. He looked at Bologg excitedly, struggling hard, and would not stop even if he was cut by a folding knife.
"Close-up!"
He stretched his neck and looked hard at Bologe. With a dying struggle, he actually twisted Bologo's restraints, his bloody broken arm pressed against Bologe's chest, and they were face to face with Bologe.
Pupils collided with each other.
"I... saw you."
A deep and hoarse voice sounded, and for a moment Boluogo had a strange illusion. It was not the man in front of him who was talking to him, but another chaotic and fuzzy existence, using his body as a basis to talk to him.
Under the dark lens, Boluogo seemed to be able to see that figure. He was sitting in the audience, holding popcorn in his hand, laughing to himself.
Blood suddenly overflowed Boluogo's face. This was not Boluogo's blood, but the blood of the man in front of him. He seemed to be squeezed by some force, and his body began to twist and deform, but he did not feel pain.
Let out an ecstatic laugh.
"He's watching me!"
In the crazy murmur, the man's body twisted and collapsed, turning into a bloody mess.
Only Bologg was left standing there blankly. He wiped his face, looked at the blood on his hands, and with a cold expression, he spoke with a forced smile, "There is no way to get out like this."
Palmer nodded in agreement. He didn't understand what happened, but it was really hard for Bologna to appear on the street right now.
Now Borrogo looks like he just walked out of a slaughterhouse.
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