"...'Market research' is explained by the noun, ticked, 'what is a consumer', ticked, 'how sampling error is affected', ticked..."

The teacher is checking the key points for the students according to the textbook, and the classroom is constantly filled with the sound of "banging" flipping books and the sound of gel pens touching the paper.

"Brush!" A tick, "Brush!" "Another tick.

Yang Dong kept following the teacher's rhythm, and then rewarded one tick after another in the brand-new textbook, and then turned the page, and ticked one after another, but suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his brain, and the feeling was like being bitten by some kind of sharp-toothed animal.

But this feeling came and went quickly, and he couldn't keep up with the teacher's rhythm at this time, and missed several checks in a row, and when he regained his rhythm, the teacher had closed the last page of the textbook and said, "Okay, this is the point of this final exam, review it well." ”

The class looked at the textbook in their hands and was silent, twenty minutes ago, they turned the first page of the textbook, and twenty minutes later, they closed the last page of the textbook.

This... Why is this the focus of the whole book?

Headache!

Everyone was rubbing their temples, even the teacher, and he was struggling with whether he had given them all or left two for them to make up for the exam.

This semester, the students have not paid attention to class and some have skipped class, if they have been given all, wouldn't it make this group of students worse?

But I'm also messing around this semester, and I'm always a little embarrassed to be grateful if I deliberately leave a few for them to take the make-up exam.

So the teacher also had a headache, but they didn't notice how unusual it was for the whole class to feel a headache, as if someone's spiritual wave suddenly radiated and affected everyone.

"Let's review!"

The teacher gave an order, and the classroom suddenly became chaotic, some were reading, some were playing with their mobile phones, some were sleeping, and some were talking.

The teacher looked at these students and planned to find a few of them who were the least serious about them, but after looking at them for a long time, the teacher realized that I didn't know these students!

Although he took classes for one semester, he only had one class per semester, and he couldn't remember whose name was what.

No, I can still remember a few, those who sit at the front, those who have answered questions, and those who look more prominent, these people still barely remember.

"Ding!"

A low, shrill voice came out, and the whole class covered their ears in unison, and some of them shook their heads.

At this point, even the dullest people in the class noticed that something was wrong, and everyone looked around curiously, and the students by the window began to look out the window for something suspicious, but alas, they couldn't find anything.

Yang Dong shook his head, he didn't review it just now, he didn't finish his mobile phone, and he didn't chat with his classmates, he was drawing.

It was a notebook, Yang Dong was holding a 2B pencil in his hand, he just drew a few strokes, and then the prototype of a character appeared.

This is a character wearing a hat, and on his right shoulder stands a black eagle, and he and this black eagle have their backs to Yang Dong, who is holding the pen, and in front of them is an endless road.

A classmate next to Yang Dong came over, he glanced at Yang Dong's painting and immediately said with admiration: "Awesome, are you planning to draw comics?" ”

Yang Dong said: "I'm working hard, and I have recently signed a contract with Penguin Comics, but unfortunately the money is very small, a few dollars this month." ”

The classmate suddenly showed admiration: "Awesome, sign a painter." ”

Yang Dong smiled wryly, maybe in the eyes of ordinary people, this is very powerful, but in the circle, this is really not a commendable achievement, many people younger than him have left him far behind, and he can't catch up no matter how hard he catches up.

What's more, he doesn't have the kind of thing that would be called "spiritual."

It's really helpless...

Yang Dong continued to paint, his heart full of bitterness.

"Want to change?"

At this moment, a voice suddenly appeared in his mind, and Yang Dong was startled by this sudden voice: "Who is it?" ”

Yang Dong almost couldn't help but shout, but he suddenly realized that this was a classroom, and if he shouted like this, he would be regarded as a psychopath by others, and his restraint was not so weak.

"Yang Dong, you should be very familiar with me, after all, I am your character!"

A voice appeared in Yang Dong's mind again, he wanted to speak, but the voice continued: "You don't have to shout, I know everything you think, I know very well, Yang Dong, you are painting just to vent your dissatisfaction with the real world, you are unwilling to be just an ordinary world, you are not willing to spend your life in such a mediocre way, but you have no way, so you can imagine in the world in the painting, am I right?" ”

Yang Dong was completely stunned, his expression was very exaggerated, but because in this classroom, everyone was doing what they wanted to do, so no one noticed his abnormality.

"You... Who are you? Yang Dong muttered in his heart.

"Yang Dong, you should be familiar with me, after all, I am..."

···

The passage that Wei Shu passed through became more and more red, so red that it dripped blood, no, this passage was really dripping blood, and the blood had even submerged half of Wei Shu's body, the viscous blood, the pungent smell of blood, if it was an ordinary person, he might have fainted because of this scene.

But Wei Shu was still moving forward, he was moving forward in this blood-colored pipe, the passage around him became more and more real, and he could still feel the touch when he touched it, and the blood kept flowing past Wei Shu, and unlike the water flow, the way the blood flowed was one after another.

The sudden rush of blood and the sudden slowing down, and the cycle repeatedly, which made Wei Wei feel as if he was moving forward in his veins.

But suddenly entering the blood vessels from the sea of memories always had a feeling of unreality, because the switch between the virtual and the real was so fast that Wei Shu didn't even react.

The sea of memory is virtual, this blood vessel and blood are real, where is the boundary between the virtual and the real?

Wei Xu was very puzzled, so that he thought of turning back and studying what the boundary between the virtual and the real was.

But Wei Xu had to move forward, because he found that the owner of this body was not in a very good condition, because the flow rate of this blood was slowing down, although the way of this blood flow was one after another, it was rapid and slow, but the overall flow rate was slowing down, and the depth of blood was also decreasing.

It's like... It's as if the whole person is bleeding profusely.

Wei Shu had to guess that time in the imaginary space had stopped, not because the story had ended, but because the master who created this story was dying, and his consciousness might have stopped!