Writer saves the world

The happiest thing in the world is that the Gugus finally produce food.

Taking the deepest pain of the soul as the main course, struggle, regret and death are the best ingredients, sprinkle false lies as embellishments, and then add flavor with the awareness of sacrifice, and put them on a beautiful plate composed of words...

It is a mouth-watering gluttonous feast.

Erye Tingming swallowed his saliva, just smelling the aroma had already aroused his suppressed hunger for a long time, the truth howled in the depths of his consciousness, tentacles opened their teeth and claws, wishing they could swallow the cook's table together.

Well……

This will not work.

Erye Tingming used some strength to hold down the truth, weaving the wildly dancing tentacles into a twist, and stuffing them back where they should be.

Although the truth is his proper form of existence, perhaps because the self-awareness in the waking state is too strong, sometimes Erye Tingming will have the illusion that the truth is some kind of exotic pet he keeps.

Erye Tingming laughed twice because of this sudden association, and put down the manuscript of Oda Sakunosuke in his hand.In addition to the manuscript handed over to him by Mr. Cervantes stepping on the zero-point line, seven manuscripts have been collected in his hands, and each one exudes an extremely attractive fragrance.

He has touched these manuscripts one by one, and he can touch the emotion that exists in the story, which is so hot that it is almost boiling and vibrates like breathing, so that at a certain moment, it seems that the creator cut himself A part of the soul endows words with life and will.

"Thank you very much for your cooperation and understanding." Erye Tingming restrained the joy of the vegetable farmers' harvest, and showed a gentle smile to the hard-working beets, "I have fully felt the awareness of everyone, please allow me to extend my highest regards respect."

Erye Tingming bowed slightly to the five transcendents present, and then looked at the two vacant seats, "But since this is the case, I think it's not good for someone to be absent today."

As he spoke, he tapped the table twice, and the figures of Heine and Orwell slowly emerged from the air. Both of them had a bit of undisguised surprise on their faces, obviously not expecting that they would be forcibly summoned.

Before he could stabilize his figure, Heine had already drawn his gun and pointed it at Tingming Erye, his thin and serious face showed a cold expression.

And Orwell was probably summoned from some terribly cold place, and in the dream, he was also wrapped up three layers inside and outside three layers like a bear. Erye Tingming couldn't recognize who he was at a glance. Verne, who had met Orwell a few times, even let out an "ah" sound, thinking that Erye Tingming had pulled the wrong person.

"Yo." Wilde raised his hand to greet his friends, looked at Orwell's goggles and blew an unsuccessful whistle, "This one is good, bring me one when you come back."

Orwell rolled his eyes at his titular boss through the goggles, "If I bring something, it won't reach you."

Wilde looked at him like a fool, "Put it in your place first, and then give it to me later."

Thinking about what they were going to do, one day he would escape from the cage.

"Alright." Orwell shrugged. "I'll keep it for you first. What color do you want?"

They entered the shopping process of souvenirs as a matter of course, but it was a pity that they couldn't make Heine's sharp eyes on Erye Tingming's body any more gentle, and the chatter and chatter only made people want to tell them to shut up.

Facing the black muzzle of the gun and the sharp gaze looking at him, Erye Tingming raised his hands with an innocent face, "No one will notice anything wrong, I will make up a good reason for the two of you to sleep."

Heine sneered, and Orwell interjected, "You know it's not because of this."

Even if Erye Tingming didn't give them a reason, they could have countless reasons to explain their sudden drowsiness.

After all, dreams will not leave any traces. Although no one came to check on him during this time, Orwell knew that Wilde would undergo a strict physical examination every other day. If there was any abnormal behavior, a psychiatrist would come to the door to ensure this. The second life of the British government is "physical and mental health", but even with that kind of testing intensity and frequency, no abnormalities were detected. If it wasn't for Wilde's lack of experience in secrecy work and almost overturned, he wouldn't have been caught for helping out. Throw it to the Antarctic to feed the penguins.

So no matter how he and Heine checked them after waking up, it would only show a sudden lethargy caused by exhaustion. Considering the intensity of work he and Heine had recently, this reason was probably reasonable enough that they didn't need to specifically mislead them.

Well, Orwell admitted that he didn't stop the car when he wrote it, and he confessed too much, and he was deliberately finding excuses to avoid the death scene.

In this regard, Heine’s situation is similar to his. He enjoys himself a lot when creating, and when he realizes that these things will be seen by others, he doesn’t want to see people. In addition, Heine’s special occupational disease caused by his special occupational nature. I was in the torn struggle of some kind of self-judgment, and I was so painful that I almost surrendered to my colleagues several times.

It wasn't until he finished writing the last word that he was able to breathe as if he had been martyred once.

Heine looked at Erye Tingming, that gentle and beautiful face was as dangerous and terrifying as a piranha in his eyes-only when they really wrote and cut their souls open, did they suddenly and truly feel the "betrayal" "How heavy this word is, and what kind of invitation letter I received.

It was only then that they finally understood why they were so eager to do something, so anxious that they didn't want to stop for half a second to think.

——Once they start thinking, once the impulsive frenzy brought about by the hot head subsides, all they can feel is fear.

Just as Erye Tingming said, the depths of the soul are not something they can appeal to. Every word written in the pen is torturing his shallow sacrifice and awareness, exposing the hidden corners of weakness and wavering, until The vain and beautiful outer shell has been peeled off, and he is still asking whether the bloody heart inside is still indestructible.

Yes……

Yes.

The more painful it was, the hotter his heart was.

He killed himself once with the pen, and gave himself a new life with the pen.

All of this is no problem for Heine, the pain and struggle are his own troubles, Heine will not have any negative emotions towards Erye Tingming because of this, today's absence is nothing more than embarrassment, but——

"I should be at home now." Heine said coldly, hiding all his wavering emotions.

He should be at home now, staying up late to sort out the mission materials of the recent period. The neighbors up and down, left and right are all colleagues who are watching him, and he has no intention of falling asleep tonight.

But he still appeared here, without any warning, his eyes went dark, and he skipped his will and let him appear here.

Except for Wilde, who was overly sluggish after being raped for a long time, even Verne realized the problem under the prompt of Miss Lagerlof.

Erye Tingming can [ignore their wishes] and pull them into a dream.

This is simply stepping on the thunderbolt of the super vigilant transcendents. If there is no deterrence of the truth of Erye Tingming last time as a foreshadowing, what Erye Tingming greets now is not a knife but a genuine one. The knife is gone.

Erye Tingming realized at the beginning that something was wrong, but fortunately he also had the world awareness to pass the cheat sheet to the backstage, mumbling and explaining this and that, Erye Tingming knew what was wrong.

Erye Tingming: ...

How can such a simple script in the parallel world have so many problems in actual operation? Wouldn't it be better for everyone to cooperate and finish the script for the big dinner?

Life is not easy, Erye Tingming sighed.He asked the drooling tentacles to come out and cling to the cooks (bushi), and said what he thought in his heart.

"Human beings are indeed the most complicated things in the world."

He only said such a sentence, which was enough for the transcendents who were rolling on the battlefield to read the key information, turn around and connect all kinds of doubts that Erye Tingming didn't know, and then looked at Erye Ting Ming's expression changed.

Erye Tingming still had an innocent expression, and explained to the beets who were poked and fried by him: "I just think that since you have been so honest with me," he pointed to the manuscript at hand, "then I don't You should have hidden too much from yourself...Equivalent exchange, is that what you humans say, right?"

That's true, but there is a big problem with this statement!

The transcendents wiped their faces with complicated expressions, and could only make a few monotones without expressing their opinions.

Compared with whether I will be forcibly pulled into the dream, suddenly discovering that my ally partner is most likely not a human... Seems like a bigger problem?

The transcendents looked at the manuscript written by themselves, and felt the suffocation of the soul being entangled by something like falling into the deep sea...

Okay, they have already jumped into the pit and buried half of them in the soil, as if they were tied to death by forced buying and selling. Do they have any other choice besides following the same road to the dark.

Erye Tingming comforted: "Don't be nervous. Among my kind, I still belong to the kind of good order. Although the reasons for your actions are different from yours, the ultimate goal is the same-I swear that none of you will Who wants the world to be peaceful, civilized and prosperous more than me, with as few meaningless wars and sacrifices as possible."

He is not a human being, but Heine's supernatural power can still affect him in this form. Heine looked at him silently, his gaze was like a sharp scalpel, and he could accurately pick out the slightest bit of falsehood.

After a while, Heine looked away and nodded to the others, "What he said is true."

Heine's supernatural ability is a more reliable lie detector than their own. With Heine's affirmation, the atmosphere in the field is relaxed.Wilde looked left and right, and if he felt something, he touched the tentacles on his body.

"Is this part of you too?" He asked curiously.He couldn't feel anything in his hand, but he was sure there was something touching his fingertips.

"Cough." Erye Tingming pulled back all the tentacles who were addicted to stickers, tied a knot and threw them back to let them be untied, and shirked responsibility solemnly, "No, it's a pet."

He spoke very sincerely, cleared his throat before Heine exposed him, and brought the topic back to the most important thing of the day.He flicked lightly over the manuscripts in his hand, and many copies of those manuscripts were copied out, and one copy fell in front of everyone automatically.

"..."

The transcendents looked at the manuscript in front of them, and suddenly had a bad feeling.

Erye Tingming's next speech also confirmed their excellent sixth sense, "Let's read together," the inhuman creature showed a harmless and friendly smile, "I think after reading all the articles, you can Cross the barriers of country, belief and hatred, and entrust your life and trust to each other without any worries."

Before Erye Tingming finished speaking, Cervantes' face turned green regardless of others. This majestic Mr. Knight stared at the manuscript he wrote, and had the urge to snatch it back and destroy it all. .

"Are you a devil..." Orwell groaned weakly. He was able to hand over his manuscript to Wilde. In fact, he didn't mind others reading his article, and he was mentally prepared that his article would be read by many people. I see, but this is a completely different degree of social death from reading in person. Just recalling the fragments he wrote, Orwell wanted to find a crack in the ground and forget it.

Wilde patted Orwell on the shoulder as a comfort, and thoughtfully said: "Then... how about starting with me?"

"Sir..." Orwell looked at Wilde with emotion, and Heine also said, "You don't have to—"

"I'm fine." Wilde waved his hand indifferently, "As long as you don't laugh at my bad writing."

"And..." He dragged out the ending and reminded viciously, "You must also really want to see what other people wrote, right? I will see you too, no matter sooner or later, no one can escape, as the saying goes, early death and early rebirth."

What he said is the truth. If you want to ask other people if they want to read what others have written, the answer must be yes, and because I have written too many self-confessions that are like shameful content, I can’t wait to read what other people wrote. What can I do to comfort my heart that is about to collapse.

It's like the worse the test after the test, the more unable to help but think about the answer, as if it can find some psychological balance.

Wilde frankly welcomes others to be guests in his story, and others look at each other—since this is the case, and since everyone has to face such a public execution...

Anyone who does not look is a fool.

And Erye Tingming had already turned over the manuscript paper while they were still struggling, savoring this world-class gluttonous feast carefully.

Eating is a completely different dining experience from swallowing jujubes in the real world. Not only can you feel the sense of fullness filled by energy surges into your body, but you can also taste the subtle changes in the taste levels and different textures in the story. Every bite is a sense of happiness. full.

what……

There is nothing happier in the world than eating.