Accompanied by ethereal music, Diablo's burning body fell from the heavens and gradually turned into scattered ashes. Pen % fun % Pavilion www.biquge.info

"! Finally cleared!" Zhang Long roared excitedly, even overshadowing the alarm bells of the other residents in the partition. It is estimated that today's small office workers have to thank him for his voice to avoid the fate of being late and deducting their wages.

Closing his bloodshot eyes, Zhang Long fell on the bed with a grunt and fell asleep. The long-awaited Diablo Three was finally released, and he didn't hesitate to swipe out the $60 for $60, knowing that he was going to drink a month's worth of Northwest Wind, and he had never been so grateful to the university: if it weren't for the campus card when he was a student, with his current bullshit salary, it would have been impossible to apply for a visa.

Zhang Long, one of the thousands of miserable university graduates in the imperial capital, as an ordinary student of a third-rate school, the job of the corresponding major is absolutely unthinkable, and he struggled to find a job as a temporary cashier at McDonald's, renting a narrow and dark partition.

Partition room, an extremely harsh living environment: an insatiable landlord divides an ordinary urban house into seven or eight small rooms and sublets it out, and the residents are all drifters in the imperial capital with a meager income, struggling to survive in Sex and the City. Inspirational books often describe this kind of partition as a place where young people's dreams rise, but in the cruel reality, it is more of a place where dreams are broken.

Our Zhang Long will undoubtedly not be the protagonist of the inspirational book.

He lived in the smallest and most aggrieved room of the partition, and there was not even a ventilation window facing the hallway, and if the lights were not turned on, even if the sun was shining outside, his room would be pitch black. As for the area, it is only enough for a single bed, plus a small space that can barely get out of bed and go out, and the clothes are all stuffed into the sorting box under the bed. The college bed study desk came in handy at this time, and every day after work, he would curl up on the bed and play Diablo games endlessly with the second-hand laptop he bought from his classmates to numb his frustration.

Once upon a time, he was the number one master of darkness that everyone in the school envied, whether it was playing Diablo One and Hellfire in elementary school, or playing Diablo II in middle school, he was an out-and-out master, as evidenced by the fact that one after another local tyrant-level no-cheat ladder characters on the American West Battle Network are proof. Don't look at his schoolwork, the attributes of every equipment and skill in the Dark Series, the success of each set of rune groups, and what is even more surprising is that he even knows the official game background information, and even learns English very proficiently: this is unbelievable for a scumbag who is addicted to games in the eyes of others.

However, these skills can neither be turned into money nor eaten as food.

Now he can only be called by the foreman Obasang as a donkey in McDonald's, and two-thirds of his salary is paid to the landlord in the partition, and the rest of the money is only enough to barely make ends meet. He himself didn't know why he had to spend a huge amount of $60 to buy Diablo III, this game seemed to have become a part of his life, and it had become a part of his soul, and he couldn't be separated for a moment. He got off the client early, took sick leave with the foreman, and logged in to the game in the first second of the global server, and then it was a fierce battle for two days and three nights, without missing every line of words, every detail, every easter egg, and every dialogue in the game. As always, his first playthrough was certainly not the fastest, but it was definitely the most detailed.

Although after the three screenwriters of Diablo changed, there were many contradictions with the previous work, which made him scold from time to time, but it was generally a good work, and the final battle with Diablo in Heaven was even more exciting. He fell on the pillow exhausted, and fell asleep, while the other users hurriedly washed away and went out completely deaf to the noise, and once again fell into the beautiful dream that had haunted him for more than twenty years.

In a daze, he returned to the room with a strong traditional East Asian style, which seemed to be in ancient times, but the windows were glass, and he could clearly see the beautiful scenery of the opposite room: in the bathtub made of jade, a girl who was whiter and more delicate than jade was bathing. Even the selected Russian A/Movie girls that he treasures in his deep hard disk are not as beautiful as this girl, and her graceful figure and picturesque eyebrows make even fairies ashamed of themselves. Of course, this is just a dream, but it is a dream that is constantly repeated, since he was a child, he began to decorate his sleep every once in a while, and what is even more incredible is that the dream/in/girl/child actually grew up with him, from the beginning of the little ghost head carved to the young and beautiful girl, just like the little sister next door with him from childhood to adulthood, but every time they meet is a dream, every dream is this room, this bathtub. I really don't know if it's lucky or unlucky, I've been accompanied by such a beautiful spring dream since I was a child, but in reality, no woman has ever been willing to look at him with a straight eye, oh yes, except for his mother.

Zhang Long is a mediocre look, a guy who can't be found in the pile, ugly and ugly, a sad person, almost nothing good except for good English. Especially the most important motor nerves of men, it is extremely poor, it is common to carry a bucket of water and spill half of it, and it is not even good to be a student on duty when you go to school, let alone basketball that attracts women the most. It can be said that he has always been an object of ignorance, until now he is stared at by the foreman Obasan, who is too much of an exterminator.

"Your grandson's calling!" the shrill ringing of his cell phone rang, recalling him back to reality from his beautiful dreams.

"......," he scolded in a daze, touching the Xiaomi phone with a broken screen that he bought from his classmate next to his pillow.

"Zhang Long, there should also be a limit to sick leave, you haven't been to work for two days, why can a cold be so serious?" the foreman, Obasan, roared angrily at the other end.

"I'm sorry...... Zhang Long quickly cheered up, "I'll be there soon......

"Immediately, don't look at what time it is, you haven't woken up, continue to send your spring and autumn dreams, come over tomorrow at noon to settle your salary: you've been fired!" Obasang snapped and hung up.

Zhang Long looked at his phone blankly, it was almost half past eight in the evening.

"!" After a long pause, he slammed his phone on the bed.

"...... " he scolded until the other partition residents knocked on the water pipes in protest. Zhang Long looked at the interface of Diablo 3 on the computer in annoyance, and it had already prompted him that he had not moved for too long, and the server had been disconnected.

He is going to look for a job again tomorrow, this is an overcrowded imperial capital, which talent market is in excess of demand, it seems that he is going to drink a northwest wind completely.

Suddenly, at the main entrance of the partition room, that is, the original door of this house, there was the sound of a bunch of keys and the fleshy love words between men and women, and it turned out that the obscene little white-collar worker next door had brought him back again.

In Zhang Long's eyes, that kid is a typical counterattack ** silk: he is shorter than him, his income is not much better than him, and he can only barely live in a partition with a ventilation window in the corridor, and the real window has no money to enjoy at all. However, such a thing somehow caught up with a goddess-level horse, and the front/convex/rear/warped was quite marked, which made him look bloody and drooling. But no matter how beautiful it is, it's someone else's, our Zhang Long can only be a spectator.

Hehe, feasting your eyes, I really have to thank the landlord of the imperial capital for inventing such a harsh environment, and the thin partition is a poke in the eye!

The white-collar boy led the woman to open the room for the first few times, but immediately found that he couldn't afford it, so he took her back to the partition to roll the sheets instead, which was cheap Zhang Long: After lying on the partition board and listening to the sound of lewdness all night, he used his brain and drilled a peephole in the partition, so he could enjoy the Spring Palace in reality every three or five days.

I really didn't expect that there would be such a glamorous blessing on the night of his dismissal, it was worth it! Zhang Long excitedly leaned on the peeping hole, and skillfully probed into the crotch of his pants with his left hand, grasping the bane of anger.

On the other side of the partition, there was a wild but brief piston movement. That kid's kung fu is really not good, but there are a lot of action tricks, Zhang Long has peeped so many times, Leng has never seen the same thing, but it has never lasted more than ten minutes, so that every time he peeps out, he has to turn out the Russian A/film treasured in the hard disk, or the girl in the obscene dream finishes the half of the cannon in her hand.

This time, naturally, there was no suspense, the white-collar boy delivered in seven minutes, and plopped on the woman's body and gasped for breath.

"Alas......" the woman sighed, touched the phone next to the pillow and looked at it, pushed the man away from her body, and said with some frustration, "Turn off the lights and sleep!"

This sentence has become the biggest turning point in Zhang Long's life.

Usually every time he peeped at him, he would turn off the light in his room, but this time, under the excitement of the joy and sorrow of the game clearance and the tragic dismissal, he actually forgot!

The woman got up and turned off the light, and suddenly her five fingers were out of sight between the partitions, and at the same time, a bright and eye-catching pillar of light shot in through the peephole incomparably swaggeringly.

"Oh no, someone is peeking. The woman's tone was not flustered, she seemed calm and brained, and for some reason she followed such a man. Zhang Long was puzzled by this, and he would never be able to figure it out.

"What?" The little white-collar worker didn't care about the fatigue of the piston movement, stood up snapped, and also saw the pillar of light, and was furious: Men are really not jealous, and they definitely can't tolerate others peeping at their horses!

"Fuck your mother!" The little white-collar worker roared, picked up the stool and slammed it towards the partition board, Zhang Long was already stunned on the other side, and didn't even move, allowing the stool to smash the partition, slapping him all over the face and slumping on the bed.

"You're a fucking bastard!" The little white-collar worker scolded angrily, and broke into Zhang Long's house with his bare butt out of the big hole he had just smashed.

He was grabbed by the collar and lifted up, and a heavy punch hit him in the eye socket, and suddenly his eyes were full of stars, and he couldn't see his fart.

"I'll tell you to see!" The little white-collar worker screamed wildly, as if he was venting all the anger that the boss had given him on weekdays, and scolded: "your grandma! your ancestors! your eight ancestors!" punch after punch left and right and hit Zhang Long's nosebleed. The neighbors in the other rooms heard the noise and ran to see the excitement, and the woman had already followed in with the sheets, grabbed the arm of the little white-collar worker and shouted, "Stop fighting, put on your clothes first, I beg you!" The little white-collar worker turned a deaf ear and shook off the woman, not caring that all the residents in the entire partition were looking at themselves as the bane of the crotch, and rounded his arm to look at Zhang Long's cheek is a fierce right hook fist.

Zhang Long's motor nerves are really not ordinary, plus he has already been beaten to the point of confusion, when the fist came, he actually shrank his neck violently, and the heavy punch that could only knock out a few of his teeth hit the temple impartially, and suddenly the sky was dark, and blood gushed out from his eyes, ears, and nostrils together, and there was only air coming out of his mouth, and there was no air coming in.

He's dead!