People in Tokyo, the world is clear

Lin Sen unbuttoned two buttons of his shirt and listened to the cold yet curious voice from the other side:

“The audience’s reaction.”

Sasakawa Rio pursed her lips and said, "What I want to know is what the audience here thinks of this performance."

Her stern gaze burned fiercely at the shameless face opposite her, but she only got a calm expression like a rolling knife.

"What do you think it will be like?"

Lin Sen stretched his body, which had become a little stiff from writing at the table, and stood up.

But the woman opposite frowned slightly and tried hard to weave words.

"Although clumsy and nervous, the girl's performance was still recognized by the audience. Everyone gave her applause, ranging from perfunctory to encouraging, and even genuine and affirming. For her, who has always been mired in failure and negative reviews, this was finally a bit of comfort. Is that right?"

Obviously yes.

This speculation is in line with common sense and logic, and is more in line with the preferences of a caged bird who likes to hear a happy story.

Unfortunately.

Reality is always more absurd than a story that follows a certain routine.

Lin Sen folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the corner of the wall.

"So, for your sake, I'll give you a spoiler below?"

All he got for this gesture was a roll of the eyes as if he was about to fart.

So he didn't hide it:

"Unfortunately, the actual plot is worse than you might imagine, Editor Sasagawa. No one applauded this somewhat forced performance. Their faces only expressed the reluctance of someone being forced to swallow food they didn't like. Then, witnessed by the hero and heroine of the story, another awkward and failed performance unfolded and ended. Only this time, the number of people who left in disgrace, burdened by that gentle yet unfamiliar atmosphere, went from one to three."

The unpleasant plot made Ms. Flamingo look a little dissatisfied.

But only for a moment, she sighed.

"That's right. This is the beginning of the Itsuki style that I'm familiar with."

She picked up the teacup with clenched fingers.

"The male protagonist is still stuck and confused, the female protagonist joins the same group because she lost her job, and there is also this new dream-chasing Tokyo drifter who is constantly tormented by reality."

"I suppose you're trying to tell me this is another first volume that won't sell at first sight."

“Teacher Goki loves telling stories about ordinary people.”

The female editor did not follow Lin Sen's self-mockery, but instead held up her chin.

"Well, from a fan's perspective, I really, really like it. But, as a cliché, from a commercial perspective, this style of opening is bound to be unattractive."

She ran her fingers over the words she had just reviewed on the table in front of her and sighed again.

"Sometimes I find it hateful. Why must a story be legendary to have high commercial value? The protagonist and the story's strengths must be clearly written in the introduction and the first few pages like a price tag in a shopping mall, waiting to be sold at a price."

Lin Sen thought this was normal:

"Because books eventually have to be hung on shelves. Just like fruits placed in wooden shelves for people to pick. At first glance, you wouldn't choose the ones with even a little black rot on the surface."

Therefore, even if a fruit looks ordinary but has a very sweet interior, it will eventually become a niche product or even disappear into obscurity.

"But I think I figured out one thing recently, Editor Sasakawa."

"?"

“Niche, the description is just a style, not a phenomenon.”

Facing the slightly surprised look of the woman sitting upright, Lin Sen just snapped his fingers lightly.

"My buddy is thinking, maybe, if you find the right method, you can make big money from niche things."

"you mean."

“For my new work, I want to make changes and try new things.”

Lin Sen pulled the cushion from the table behind him, sat down cross-legged, and moved closer to Sasagawa Riya under the scrutiny of the men in black in the yard.

Then he turned around and waved to the observer in the distance in a familiar manner to show his understanding of the situation.

Finally, he crossed his arms and made an explanation to his financial sponsor.

"That said, since our last chat, I've gained some new insights from Editor Sasakawa's extensive experience and descriptions of the phenomena. As expected of a veteran editor."

The sudden flattery almost made a certain creature, which was cold on the outside but warm on the inside, blush on the spot.

"Don't force such a cowardly sentence out of your throat." Sasagawa Rio narrowed her eyes due to her keen intuition. "Are you saying that you want to do something different this time?"

"You have to learn to earn your own living. It's not good to always rely on you for support."

"Mr. Gaoyaoyuan, please stop spouting unrealistic nonsense. Let me be clear, if this turns you into the kind of writer I dislike, then this book will be the last I buy for you."

As everyone knows, Sasakawa has a poisonous tongue.

——This is probably the most cruel part of her body.

Therefore, Lin Sen quickly caught a look of some worry from the threatening face.

"So, how do you want to change?"

"plot."

Looking at the insincere statement, Lin Sen laughed.

The three people at the bottom of the story will continue to float in this turbulent tide of the times, ordinary and difficult. Of course, apart from the embarrassment caused by the unsatisfactory current situation, the occasional rare joy is the most precious thing. So when the heat and steam of late June strangle their throats, lonely souls provide answers to life and living through mutual support.

乥“…”

As he slowly told the story, Lin Sen took in the series of expressions on Sasagawa Riya's face, from astonishment to dissatisfaction with the spoiler, and then to confusion.

Novel Novel No. 0

Everything was as expected, so the corners of his mouth curved:

"What I mean is, Editor Sasakawa, if it were the old me, I would definitely finish this story this way. But now, thanks to you."

"I?"

Faced with doubts, Lin Sen continued his role as the Riddler.

"You made me realize that even a little bit of shining light from a buddy like me, who is almost rotting in the ground, can move a kind and generous person like you, and even make you pay for it."

"So, what if, I mean what if. In this grand era, aren't there many people like you, just hiding in the corners?"

And with the low and confident voice, the manuscript paper appeared on the ground like magic and was pushed over.

It is a title page that has never been seen.

Only then did Sasagawa Rio realize that she had just browsed through an ordinary, untitled and unorganized beginning.

Then she picked up the paper with her slender fingers and looked at the title and inscription of the new book.

The next second, his eyes were slightly stunned.

The writing style is interesting and pleasant to the taste, but that's besides the point.

An unprecedented emotion filled my chest, and my heart was surging with excitement, all because of a few ordinary lines of introduction:

She told us that she was just an ordinary person, living a muddled life day and night.

[She also told us that she just didn't want that simple dream to drown in this scorching summer night like her muddled life.]

So she wiped away her tears, crossed the steel jungle of Tokyo, and ran towards the dawn in the deep night, just like the rolling summer heat wave.

[——"Heat Wave."]

Chapter 23: The recognition of the ancient generation of street runners!

“Everyone, thank you so much for all the support!”

This is the standard closing speech at a roadside rally, usually delivered by the central figure.

This is exactly what happened——

Everyone present was wearing large, exaggerated, and brightly colored clothing, and the person making the declaration on the steps bowed his head and wiped away tears after he finished, letting his friends say goodbye to each other and disperse.

Dismissed.

There was no commemoration left and it ended abruptly.

It refers to this rally, and of course also to Matsushita's career as a takeko.

That's right. He's a member of the Bamboo Clan. Of course, nowadays, you can even add the modifier "formerly" before the title.

This massive but short-lived movement began several years ago, at the end of the 1970s.

It is a crazy past of punk, undisciplined, confused yet restless young people.

Young people will buy trendy clothes from the Takenoko fashion store, and spend their weekends on the streets relaxing to the sounds of music from large speakers, letting themselves go.

Of course, this is a embellished version of the perspective of the parties involved. From the perspective of the ordinary passersby who are being disturbed, this group can be described as:

An old-century street dancer, a pioneer of square dancing in the last century, and an ancient forerunner in the field of spirited young men.

But the new world will always eliminate the remnants of the old era, and people will always grow up and grow old.

The 1980s has passed and bamboo shoots, which were once at the forefront of fashion, have become an outdated hobby and are spurned by the new generation of young people.

All traces of youth left by generations of soul dancers are gone.

"He's an old man too."

He is no longer the senior who carried his speakers around, taught people dancing skills and recruited new members.

Lamenting the present-day Panasonic, who is now twenty-seven years old.

I have a formal job that I have been working for three years, I have someone I am pursuing with the intention of getting married, and I have the idea of ​​living a peaceful life.

Letting the belated youth end here is actually a good ending.

The times have changed.

Television, new media, and efficient distribution methods are constantly evolving, and cultural gatherings held on the streets have become tacky and outdated.

With this thought in mind, Panasonic found a restroom in a building, changed out of his Harlem clothes, which he probably wouldn't wear again, and strolled on the road that was gradually filled with exhaust fumes, carrying the speaker.

Suddenly I burst out laughing. The past years flashed before my eyes.

"We are the last of our kind in this industry. There may no longer be anyone who will carry a speaker onto the street and enjoy a dreamlike day."

"It's over."

Panasonic lowered his head and sighed.

Then, he suddenly raised his head.

Following the sudden sound beside my ears, I squeezed into the crowd three steps away in front of me, until I got through the wall of people and reached the front of the encirclement. I stared blankly at a young man who was placing a speaker next to a woman who was sitting with a guitar.

——Sometimes, a slap in the face in life only takes a few seconds.

A few meters away.

.....

The moment the microphone line was connected, the makeshift team was set up.

"Ahem, hello?"

The girl with a ponytail had a very shaky voice during the audition, and it was obvious that she was too nervous.

But she still took several deep breaths and adjusted herself.

"Okay, it's a free performance, you don't owe anyone money."

Lin Sen bent down to help Qingshan Xiazhi tidy up the tangled cables. "Relax a little. Think about it. If we mess this up, we'll have moved the equipment from your house all the way here for nothing."

"Why does it sound like you want to put more pressure on me?"

"You discovered this."

I'm not the one who can save you.

"Could you please not admit it so directly?"

that is.

So formal...