Solokhov started his day's schedule as usual, and it was important for him.

Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw.

ｂｉｑUｇE。

He always thinks that no matter how bad a plan is, once you start implementing it, you have to follow it through.

In fact, he also wants to say that the greatest connotation of the meaning of life is persistence, so this implementation is a tribute to the noble life.

This was what his wife, who was a librarian, thought was the quintessential manifestation of a morbid, paranoid character.

He came out of the house with his pocket notebook, he patted the buckle on the outside of his pocket, and walked forward with confidence.

When walking, Solokhov did not stop his mind on the road, in fact, he did not need to work on the road at all, anyway, he just circled around the community where his home was located, just like a circumnavigation of the world, the earth is round, sooner or later he will have to return to the starting place, of course, Solokhov naughtily thought, provided that there is no accident.

For example, those who followed Columbus can't even tell them to return to the starting point even if the earth is round.

He grinned at the pride of himself for having ideas in his head that seemed simple but were actually necessary inspiration.

He was so satisfied that he combed his short hair on the top of his head that had begun to support the Federation, and walked forward steadily.

The original manuscript of the book that will be published recently is ready and ready to be handed over to the publisher by the end of the week.

Nowadays, the people of the publishing house have become the exploiters in this industry, and they can't squeeze any bit of value out of everyone who signs up with them.

Only in this way can it be let go.

The publisher called him a lot and said that the book would be on the market next week.

Solokhov was tired of the task they gave him, because it was not his interest.

Writing was originally a very pleasant thing, but now it feels like a kind of endurance and suffering.

What a wealthy feud, what a financial conspiracy.

What apocalyptic crises, and what mystical prophecies.

The theme of vegetables in the vegetable market is flooding Solokhov in waves.

Thinking of this, Solokhov sighed, if it weren't for the fact that the country changed color overnight, and the writers' guild became a social ornament that was inferior to a garbage can, he would not be where he is today.

He used to be a leading member of the association, but now he has no job.

Yes, now only by working for those publishing houses can he truly show that he is a valuable person.

Madame had wept for him and watched him grow depressed for a long time, but one day someone began to send him a letter asking for a contract with him.

After the contract was signed, the main source of family income became the man of the family again, and this called Solokhov was very dignified.

At dinner one day, he drank a little red wine to accompany the meal, and excitedly said to his wife, you don't have to work so many classes in the library, my income will get better and better.

It is true, in Solokhov's opinion, although he is not very satisfied with always writing about such topics, but his talent determines that it is more than enough to cope with such trifles.

In the following time, basically the tasks assigned to him by the publishing house were completed ahead of schedule.

However, there is one point, when the publisher gives him each task, he always asks her to send her a thick pile of materials, and his task is to straighten out the relationship between the materials and write them into a finished story.

One of Solokhov's proudest abilities is this, his keen insight, his ability to make accurate judgments, and his ability to express himself strongly.

That's enough for him to do the job.

After the income situation improved, the wife no longer had to work more overtime, and some jobs could be done by part-time domestic workers.

The couple can even go to an opera house where they have never been before.

Compared with the past, it is no longer about ideals and beliefs, which is indeed painful, but it is true that life is much better now.

If it weren't for some of the small details that Solokhov was worried about, life could have been very good now.

Those details, in his opinion, were very much like a time bomb.

Every time I get a call to arrange a writing assignment, it's just when the doorbell rings, and every time it's no different.

Solokhov had never been to the publishing house, and in fact he didn't even know what the phone number was.

At the beginning, he didn't have a caller ID, but after changing to a caller ID, he found that the other party's phone didn't have a number at all.

The other party also seemed to know what he was thinking, so he kindly reminded him that he should be loyal to the obligations stipulated in the contract and fulfill them earnestly.

There is no need to know much.

Solokhov remembered what the other party had emphasized in the contract that the content of those materials should not be disseminated.

Solokhov also once asked the person who came to deliver the information, and the other party said that he was only a letter deliverer, and since there was no sender's address on the package, he had no way of knowing.

Solokhov then remembered a mysterious kind of worker who once existed in the country in the past.

Yes, it's mysterious, and the messenger is theirs, because it's he who comes to pick up the manuscript every time.

If he doesn't know the address of the publishing house, how can he send the manuscript out.

But it was only after Solokhov had this idea that he never saw the messenger again, and his materials and manuscripts were received and sent to the place indicated to him by telephone.

There was one more sentence in the instructions on the phone, strictly enforcing the contract.

Solokhov searched the city's largest book market, but there was no book he had written.

He had communicated with his wife in the middle of the night about this question.

Madame told him not to care so much, maybe the book was published abroad at all.

Maybe he really thinks too much, every time he thinks of this question, he uses his wife's explanation to prevaricate himself, and most of the time it is effective.

Walking on the road in late autumn today, the appearance of the plane trees on both sides quietly fell, paved to every edge and corner of the street, and Solokhov stepped on it without making a sound every step, this is a soaked leaf, naturally there is no sound.

It's so quiet, it's a good time for me to let my mind run wild, and the first thing that comes to my mind is that it's actually this mysterious writing contract.

Who are these people?

What does the task they give themselves say?

For example, on one occasion Solokhov was writing about the infighting of a financial empire.

According to the materials, this family does not have a superficial presence in any company or country at all.

In other words, you can't see their shadow in real life.

However, the data shows that this family can easily use the wealth in their hands to bring down all the countries on a continent.

As for those superpowers, such as the United States of Myrs, it is only a matter of time before they are defeated.

What kind of family is this?

According to the source, the family has a strong blood connection from generation to generation.

It is not surprising that Solokhov, when he was tired from writing, also read some natural science to relieve his fatigue, and he knew that this is the case between generations of human families.

The key is how strong it is.

You must know that the thoughts in everyone's head are the result of social shaping, in fact, blood ties can only be physiological at best, as for psychology, it has no effect.

But that's not what the information says, this particular family can communicate ideas through blood ties between generations!

So the elders of the previous generation can exercise control over the descendants of the next generation.

This is certainly not true, and Solokhov feels like he is being toyed with by an editor with a sci-fi hobby who has hyperfantasies.

If it weren't for the money, he wouldn't have played with this person a long time ago.

He began to disbelieve in the authenticity of the information, and every time he received it, he regarded the content contained in it as the subject of an after-dinner conversation with the family's dog, Bobby.

That day, he received new information and opened it to see.

There's a picture in it, and it's all green.

It turned out to be a chart of the stock market.

There are a few sentences at the back of the photo, telling him to pay attention to the fact that the super financial family is about to affect the stock market, and this picture will be exactly the same as when the stock market closed tonight.

Solokhov simply sat down in front of the television with Bobby in his arms after dinner, watching economic reports that he almost never reads.

In the end, how Bobby couldn't stand the straining of his two arms and broke free, Solokhov didn't know, he looked at the picture on the coffee table, and then at the picture on TV, it was exactly the same, it was true.

When the lady came over, she found her husband dumbfounded, expressionless at the weather forecast on TV.

She thought her husband was looking at the elegant hostess.

I asked jokingly, my figure is not as good as hers.

I asked, but there was no response.

She had no choice but to touch her husband's feet.

The husband came to his senses and said it was amazing.

After saying a few in a row, it was amazing, and he went into his study.

Madame looked back at the host on TV, and the figure can also be amazing?

She looked at her figure and decisively switched to the foreign soap opera she loved to watch.

Writing still has to go on, and most of the family's rich life depends on this job.

But the seeds of doubt sprouted in my heart.

Combined with the instructions of the person at the publisher on the phone, Solokhov felt as if he had been exposed to a big problem, and as for how big the problem was, he was not sure to estimate.

You must know that the stock market of such a large country can be affected casually, and how powerful this financial family should be.

He pulled out the small notebook in his pocket and tried to jot down the feelings he had in his head at the moment, when there was a screeching sound behind him of tires scraping against the ground as the car turned.

It seems that the speed of the car is very high, Solokhov couldn't help but lean on the side of the road, he really hates the hairy young men in this community who have just bought the first car in their lives, driving the car so fast, quite like they can take off with two wings.

However, the woman did not agree with his complaints, and said that when Solokhov pursued her, he rode his bicycle very fast.

Everyone has a young age, not to mention, if the son who is studying in the capital has a car, I'm afraid it will drive fast.

This made Solokhov speechless, yes, life looks old when you look at it.

This line has been sharpened by the years and become shorter and shorter, and now I am almost fifty years old.

The sound of the engine roaring soon reached Solokhov's side, and instead of going far, a sharp brake came to his side.

The door opened with a bang, it was a large business RV in pure black, the door opened, and two meaty guys, one on each side, grabbed Solokhov's arm, lifted him up and threw him into the car.

Then the door slammed shut, and the car sprang forward.

Solokhov didn't know if anyone saw him behind him at the time, anyway, there was no one in front of him or on either side at the time.

His head was pressed against the seat by a guy, and the thread on the seat got into his nose, itching so hard that he couldn't help but sneeze twice.

The guy who was pressing him was probably disgusted, and his hands were getting stronger, as if he was determined to press Solokhov's head into the seat.

What's going on?

I read the mafia in the street in the newspapers, and that's what kidnapping people do.

However, the mafia kidnaps people for no more than two purposes, if it is not to seek revenge and revenge, this kind of people are not ready to collect any ransom at all, but directly turn the kidnapping into killing.

If so, Solokhov thinks that he has not dealt with the mafia at all, and the mafia is mistaken.

There is also a possibility that they want a ransom.

This is even less likely than the previous one, Solokhov is not a rich kid, at best he is living a better life.

Could this also lead to the kidnapping of the mafia?

What a joke, he couldn't turn his head, but he could still talk.

Solokhov said to the people in the car, gentlemen, is there a misunderstanding, the wrong person.

The person sitting in the front passenger seat said something to the two guys, and the two guys let go of Solokhov, who got up and saw him clearly.

This man was not very old, well-dressed, and wore a very chic brooch pinned to the suit on his chest.

It is made of dark green material, and it lies vividly on the clothes.

The other asked Solokhov where he got the materials he used to write the book.

Solokhov thought to himself, since you all know that I've seen some very strange material, then there is no need to hide anything.

He spoke of his wonderful experience, and every detail was described in as much detail as possible.

In the process, Solokhov noticed that the car had driven into the parking lot under a building.

Probably at the end of his life, Solokhov paused his narration, and the other urged him to continue.

The car drove into a large elevator and the elevator went down!

Solokhov began to get really worried, this was all the parking lot underneath, and it was going down.

He turned back to the other party and said that he must have made a mistake.

I'm a nerd who writes code books with a pen all day long, and I don't know anything else.

The other party was obviously impatient, and he ordered someone to put a black bag on Solokhov's head, and there was silence in the car.

The black bag was not very tightly woven, and Solokhov saw a face in the mirror through the gap.

In fact, he just saw it, and the other party seemed to find out, and then the other party's eyes also came up.

The other party looked at him, and he quickly removed his head from that side.

This is not a mafia, not a kidnapping.

The other party is not human.

A triangular face covered with scales, with two eyelids as thick as a finger and protruding eyeballs.

The color was the color of the brooch pinned to the young man's chest.

God, what the hell is going on, who did you meet?

It's really a pen that has caused a thousand troubles.