Fantasy Writers 1860

The next morning, after getting up and having a quick breakfast, Dorian headed to the Blue Sun Cafe with 19 As in his banknotes.

Previously, I was penniless and owed the coffee shop owner 19 yuan, but now I have an advance on my manuscript from Editor-in-Chief Clancy and I have also found a job at the Creative Content Agency with a monthly salary of 1 gold pound, so I am much better off now.

There's no reason to keep owing the money, and the shop manager has always been good to him, so Dorian plans to pay it off in one go now.

Early in the morning, the Blue Sun Café was filled with the aroma of coffee beans, and small groups of customers sat scattered in the corners, many of them holding newspapers.

However, most people didn't have newspapers in their hands, so they gathered around those who did, whispering among themselves. Every now and then, their voices would rise slightly, and they would exclaim in surprise, "I can't believe what they're going to publish next!" "Is it real?" "Really?"

As soon as Dorian entered, he walked briskly to the bar, where Manager William was wiping a glass.

"Good morning, manager." Dorian greeted him warmly, laying out 19 ars in large bills on the bar. "I'm paying back the money I owed you before."

Unfortunately, these 19 ars are all paper money, so even if they are lined up like this, they don't look very impressive.

The Aus is the lowest denomination of all paper money. The lower denomination currency units, the Gour and Half Aus, are only available in copper. The next level up, the florin, is also commonly used by ordinary people. However, starting with the Denali, the next level up, the pure silver coin, becomes relatively rare.

Ducati gold coins and gold pounds were even less likely to be used by ordinary people.

The shopkeeper suddenly looked up, saw it was Dorian, and his face was full of disbelief, as if he had seen a ghost: "It's...it's Dorian! Where...where did you get this money?"

"I've decided to turn over a new leaf and start anew. I've found a good job now, so naturally I have money." Dorian smiled, making no attempt to hide his transformation.

"Uh, what kind of good job is it? Would you mind telling me?" Manager William asked thoughtfully, with a complicated expression.

What happened?

The store manager isn't usually this nosy; what's wrong with him today?

However, he didn't think much of it and was about to tell the truth when he remembered the confidentiality clause in the contract. So he hesitated and said, "Well, I'm not sure if it's convenient to say."

"But it's pretty reliable, and it's kind of like a civil service job... It's relatively easy, and the income is decent." Dorian gave this vague answer for the time being.

Store manager William was filled with suspicion, feeling that things were definitely not that simple.

Although Dorian has a prestigious high school education, it's not surprising that he can get a civil service job.

But if he were capable of passing the exam, he would have passed it long ago.

He had spent a year trying to pass the exam but failed. How come he found a civil service job in just a few days as an unemployed person? And who knows?

Although a civil service examination system has been established, the opinions of the aristocratic gentlemen are still very important...

Thinking about this, Manager William felt he was getting closer and closer to the truth.

There's only one possibility: Mrs. Michelle's words are true!

This guy is the young master of a noble family... no, he's hooked up with a noble young master with strange fetishes!

It matches perfectly, it matches perfectly!

Thinking of this, Manager William's expression became strange. He silently put away the money on the table and cautiously asked, "I see. If it's inconvenient to say, then don't. Take good care of yourself in the future. If you feel unwell, you can come to me. I know a doctor who is very skilled, especially in treating buttocks..."

Dorian: ?

What does it mean?

Why is there yet another person who can't stand up to someone's butt?

Do Britannians really all have that tendency?

However, the shop manager meant well, so although he was confused, he still thanked him and, looking at the several groups of people gathered in the shop, asked curiously, "What are you all looking at together?"

"Ah, what else could it be but the latest issue of the 'Lentinion Weekly'?" The shopkeeper turned around and hung the cups he had just wiped on the cup rack. "Starting today, the novel section will begin serializing a new story."

A new novel? Dorian quickly figured it must be his own "The Million Pound Note".

He squeezed into a table surrounded by several layers of people, and before he could even see what they were looking at, he heard them start shouting:

"What? It's gone? I don't believe you, show it to me!"

"It's really over. Look, it's clearly written here: To be continued!"

"Damn it! Who told him to break down here!"

"We're just getting to an interesting part. I can already imagine how the shop assistant will react when he sees a million-pound note, but he didn't write it down?"

"I have a friend who works as a typesetter at a printing factory. I'll go ask him if he's got his hands on the rest of the text..." A young man in a brown vest slammed his hand on the table, making the coffee cup on it shake.

Seeing the people around him echoing his sentiments, and hearing the murmurs and discussions, Dorian stood on the periphery of the crowd, trying hard not to laugh out loud.

The young man who claimed he was going to see his typesetter friend was immediately grabbed by the arm: "Come on, how can I just show this to you? If things get out, you'll be in big trouble for your friend!"

"Something similar happened last year. At the time, 'Maurice the Thief' was all the rage, and someone wanted to see the rest of the story in advance. They colluded with printing workers to steal the manuscript, but they were discovered. If the original author hadn't been so magnanimous and publicly declared that he would not pursue the matter, those two would have been sent to jail!"

Even so, that worker was eventually fired by the factory manager!

The young man became even more agitated upon hearing this, his face turning red: "Arthur Lupin is a great writer, and what is this Mr. Hakimi? These days, these little writers don't learn plots or writing styles from him, they just learn to cut lines out of context!"

"The person you're talking about stole it, but I'm going to ask for it back openly and honestly!" After saying that, the young man finished his coffee in one gulp, slammed it on the table with a bang, and then strode away.

Before leaving, he added, "I'm going to the editorial office of the Lentinion Weekly!"

Watching the young man's receding figure, the many customers in the hall looked at each other, and eventually a large number of them left.

I don't know where they're going.

Upon seeing this, Dorian immediately stopped laughing and was replaced by fear.

So what Editor Clancy said before was true? Is the local culture really that fierce?

If I hadn't listened to his advice and hadn't continued using the pen name Mr. Hakimi, but instead used my real name, would I already be dead by now?

Oh my god, that terrified me!

Just as Dorian stood there, drenched in sweat, Manager William asked, "What's wrong? Aren't you going with them?"

"Ah, me?" Dorian was startled. "Well, I don't really like reading these kinds of popular novels..."

……

The young man had always been a loyal reader of the Lentinion Weekly and had even worked part-time for their editorial office for a few days before, so he found the address with ease.

He stood behind the building, picked up a stone from the ground, and threw it at a first-floor window: "Who let Mr. Hakimi die here! Come out! I'll kill him!"

The group of people following behind him also started shouting like that.