In addition to this official matter, what is before me now is also the private matter entrusted to me by Boss Dart. The material crisis can be hidden for now, but we must also make mental preparations in advance to build cohesion for other surprises in the future.

At this time, it is necessary to hold a festival in the town.

After I left the tavern, I walked around the street, asking everyone I met, but I didn't find out clearly what kind of festival this harvest festival was.

Could it be that Boss Dart's old fool remembered it wrongly?

If the residents in the town don't know much about it, then you need to ask some knowledgeable people for help.

When I passed by Bakir's house, I suddenly thought of this knowledgeable professor of botany at the University of Michigan. Maybe I can get inspiration from him?

But when I walked to the door...

"Bakir, where are the butter and sugar that my family ordered!"

"Uh...I used up a little butter in my research..."

“When should I buy a broken sofa?”

"This... I will buy it when I get paid..."

"Then why is this month's salary so low?"

"Ann...Anna, calm down! I'm already making it up...No, I'm thinking about it! Calm down first! There seems to be something dark behind you!"

"How do you want me to calm down? There is nothing in this place, and you and Mary are not at home every day. Have you ever considered my feelings?"

"Wait a minute...I'm a little out of breath. Why is it so dark in front of me?"

"Bakir, what are you doing lying on the ground? I'm going to be angry!"

"Anna, go and call Doctor Dot...I may have a cerebral hemorrhage..."

I looked through the crack in the door and saw that behind Mrs. Anna, the black stand-in made of resentment was emitting billowing smoke, completely covering up Mr. Bakir, who was changing into his outdoor clothes and preparing to go into the mountain.

Rolling on the ground and wailing in vain.

Good guy, is there really no GM to control this kind of cheating? Is a completely different power system really reasonable?

And...who can save Mr. Bakir? He seems to be in pain. Will he be suffocated to death by the black air?

Hey, the savior seems to have appeared?!

A figure in a dress poked his head out from the second floor and immediately saw his mother who was still chattering to Mr. Bakir, and her poor father was already dying!

The figure quickly moved from the stairs to the living room, moving quickly and covertly. He skillfully used the sight angles of tables, chairs, flowerpot stands, and columns to fully display his Akarin attributes.

The black air that had filled the room at this moment was like a colorful black python, and it pounced on all living creatures. Even the Siamese cat at home was poisoned, but her existence was never discovered!

"Mary, help me quickly...I feel so uncomfortable..."

Father and daughter connected, and Mr. Bakir wailed and sensed something.

The figure who entered the living room heard the call for help and observed for a while, seemed to muster up the courage, and finally walked lightly in the direction of Mr. Bakir!

This stand-in messenger who chooses and devours people actually bypassed her, allowing the Akarin girl to pass through many crises. She picked up the rolling house cat from the ground, continued to walk towards Mr. Bakir, and stretched out her hand...

Then said hello.

"Dad, Mom, I'm going to the library to read. I'll go home during dinner time."

After saying that, she passed by the entrance, jumped at the door, and neatly put on her shoes, just like an ordinary child going to school. But as soon as she came out of Mrs. Anna's sight, she immediately rolled on the spot and got into

He exited the gate and disappeared around the corner.

Mr. Bakir's outstretched hand fell.

…………

I took out the key and opened the door of the police station, and went up to the small library on the second floor. Sure enough, I saw the Akarin girl Mary sitting on the small royal sofa, holding a cup of black tea and reading a book.

What was in front of him was a new table that he had never seen before. It was shorter than the original one, but more stable. It was covered with an apricot-yellow spinning tablecloth.

"Mr. Bakir...is it really okay?"

"Yeah, no problem."

It would be more convincing if her hand holding the cup didn't shake.

I sat down opposite her, poured myself a cup of black tea, and then grinned.

"Hiss...isn't this too sweet?"

The Akarin girl opposite remained calm, "The maple syrup jar and the table at home were destroyed together. The amount of sugar taken from home was not controlled properly."

Do these two things have anything to do with you?! Poor Mr. Bakir, maybe he just took some butter to turn a fly into a butterfly. The crime will not lead to death!

"Then your father's salary..."

"I used it to buy manuscript paper."

Mr. Bakir, rest in peace.

I poured all the black tea, washed the bottom of the cup with water twice and still felt the sweetness, filled it with a cup of hot water and returned to my seat.

With the books in front of me, the aura of the Akarin girl was almost nonexistent, and her quiet appearance blended in with the books. It seemed that as long as I didn't speak, she would not take the initiative to say a word, and she could maintain the silent atmosphere until the end of time.

"Uh, buy manuscript paper... By the way, didn't you say you were going to write a novel before? How is it going now?"

The Akarin girl did not raise her head: "Well, I haven't started writing yet."

I asked curiously: "It's been almost a month, and I haven't started writing yet? Obviously the development of the plot can be determined by throwing dice, right?"

"Well, I'm still recording the outline, and there's still a gap between the progress and expectations."

Oh, I understand this. She is the legendary writer who cannot write without an outline. The outline has been refined to a million words, but she still feels that she is not fully prepared.

Now I want to talk about her in detail, the author is not that serious.

Relying on the outline? No, it obviously depends on digging pits. The four courses focus on deception. A big pit is surrounded by a small pit. The small pit is connected to the tiankeng. The tiankeng becomes a tunnel. Thousands of troops fall into these pits and cannot lift them.

Create a ripple - the only drawback is that it can easily trick yourself to death.

"Let me know how much you wrote." I suggested.

The Akarin girl nodded and picked up the bone china teacup and book.

I'm confused.

What do you mean? Too lazy to pay attention to me?

I stared at her tentatively, but found that there was no trace of displeasure on her face, but a strange look on her face, which did not look like she was angry with me.

"It's all here, you can see for yourself."

The Akarin girl finished reading a certain page of the book in her hand, folded a corner of the book and spoke slowly, then lifted the apricot tablecloth in front of her...

Four stacks of neatly stacked papers were bundled with threads and stacked high, and the gaps were tightly joined together to form a table with the same length and width, so that when covered with a tablecloth, it looked like a small coffee table.

On these papers, something is recorded densely in Juanxiu's small characters...

I pulled out the last one with the date marked on it and wrote this series of unclear messages.

[Record: March 11, 1011, [Marcus]’s investment appraisal result: D100=99/20=big failure.]

[Even though you have a large number of precious cultural relics, your disastrous business acumen turned this sell-off into a charity action that failed. The payment that could not be recovered was all defrauded by the downstream, and the freight and labor drained you dry.

The change in my wallet and hand couldn't even buy a ticket home - which happened to be the price of a bullet.]

[Data update: The character's wealth has been reduced by 99%, and the current remaining assets are 20G]

"Ah..." I looked at the piece of paper, a little confused as to what was going on.

The Akarin girl took the paper away from my hand, turned it over and gave it back to me.

[Record: March 12, 1011, [Marcus]’s survival assessment result: D100=1/80=great success. 】

[Determined to end your own life, you put the muzzle of the gun into your mouth. But when you pulled the trigger, thick smoke came out of the gun chamber, and the damp bullet failed to fire. You threw the gun on the ground in anger.

, this old revolver burst into flames again, killing the gang leader in the car on the roadside. You didn’t want to be cut into pieces, so you had to start a desperate journey.】

[Data update: Character identity changed from [Investor] to [Fugitive]. 】

"Snapped."

I slapped the piece of paper on the table and said, "I have been running tours for more than a thousand years, and not only am I penniless, but I have also become a fugitive? Is this really reasonable?!"

"Well, I rolled the dice exactly according to the story line, and recorded every result. But I found that as long as the judgment of investment and construction was inevitable, the judgment of life and death crisis was successful again and again, even if the life was about to end, old age and death would

Even if you roll the dice, it will miraculously succeed, and you can't kill the character no matter what."

Akarin girl Mary raised her head at a 45-degree angle and sighed. "In the end, I had to explain that the protagonist was cursed by the God of Poverty, and there is a setting that will not die..."

I also fell silent.

Can you roll the dice to create an immortal poor rancher?

No wonder Mary hasn’t started writing for so long - who would be willing to serialize the failure history of an immortal poor man for thousands of years (╯°□°)╯︵┻━┻!

His name is Marcus. Is this some kind of mysterious curse? If they could meet a poor vampire ancestor, the two of them would probably have a lot to talk about...

"If you can't write it, don't force it. Just burn these waste papers."

I drank some water and gradually calmed down.
To be continued...