From Odaiba Shang Expressway, heading east along the Tokyo Bay coast, crossing Edogawa, and driving for a while, Kiyomizu Toru and Ito arrived at Funchama City, Chiba Prefecture.

The car was parked in the public parking lot, and the two stood in the park on the corner of the street and discussed the person they were about to meet.

"His name is Naohime Miyamoto, he graduated from the Literature Department of Chuo University. He is the most 'dream' group of gunmen I have ever met. He can always do a good job in his job, and I will give him a little more."

Ito lit another cigarette, and sucked and blew the white mist in the gradually thinning twilight.

"But, hehe, who knows if it's bad luck or something else. When I was twenty, I published my first book, but after I sold 300 books, I couldn't sell it anymore. After that, I never received serials or single books. In the end, I couldn't help but start to be a gunman."

Moving to the upper wind, Shimizuki looked at the huge factory standing next to the coast and said, "Maybe it's really unfortunate."

"Unfortunate? This is just the most common situation, just like the big waves. If you publish the first book, you will have the chance to publish the second book with good sales. Then you will win awards, publish books, win awards, publish books, and publish books. I don't know how many times you cycle and accumulate fame, so that you can stand up and say that you are a writer. Most people on this road are, who knows how many years you will publish one."

The increasingly violent sea breeze was filled with a desolate aura. Shimizu Tetsu replied faintly, "Is that right?" and saw someone walking along the road and greeting Ito from afar.

He wore a jacket that was washed until white, with the logo of the beach factory printed on his chest, and the trousers on his lower body were also thin, and he didn't look much windproof.

As he got closer, Shimizu Tetsuki noticed that he was carrying a bag in his hand, which contained two boxes of cheap bentoes that were half priced, and also a box of cookies that were probably two or three times the price of bento.

"I was working just now and couldn't walk away. Hmm, Ito San, is this person looking for my Shimizu San?"

Shimizu Shimizu bowed to him, "Senior Miyamoto, Shimizu Shimizu Shimizu, I have something to bother you this time, I'm sorry to bother you."

"Oh? You are Shimizu Toru who won the Naoki Award! I have seen it on TV and is worthy of being a genius writer who has appeared every ten years."

A hint of surprise and envy appeared on Miyamoto's face, but soon changed into a self-deprecating smile and coughed a few times in the cold wind, "Also, how can I be considered a senior like this?"

After saying that, he waved his hand to stop Shimizuki from speaking again.

"It's too cold outside, let's talk about it at home."

Following him through the streets and coming from the wide street to the alley with few pedestrians, Shimizu Tetsu couldn't help asking: "Senior Miyamoto, Chiba's working hourly wage is lower than that of Tokyo, right?"

"It's about one or two hundred yen lower, but the rent is cheap, so it's easy to find a job in the factory."

"The factory work...is it okay for health?"

"A little problem will be fine in two days."

“It’s better…”

"arrive."

Shimizu Tetsuki looked up and saw a dark gray apartment building in front of him. The exterior walls were covered with cracks, and the rent notice posted at the entrance was also faded, looking a little more dilapidated than Nanami Nishimi's residence in Adachi at that time.

“On the fifth floor, there are no street lights, be careful at your feet.”

Taking advantage of the light of the mobile phone, they climbed up the steps and the three of them stopped in front of a wooden door.

Miyamoto changed the bag in his hand, but did not take out the key as Kiyomizu thought, but instead knocked on the door gently. The gentle tone in his mouth was completely different from his previous cold image.

"Miki, I'm back."

"Ah! Dad!"

After a scream from a child, the door lock was opened from inside and a small figure rushed out.

Miyamoto patted his little head that was holding him tightly, shook his bag, and smiled on his tired face: "I'm back with a gift."

"Ah! It's a cookie!"

"Go to eat in the inner room, there are guests here today."

Feeling the child's uncovered scrutiny gaze, Shimizu Tetsu didn't know how to respond, so he could only nod his head stiffly.

After placing the necessary table cabinets in the small room, three people were stuffed into it, which seemed very crowded.

Seeing the door in the inner room being closed, Shimizu Tetsuki's eyes turned to behind Miyamoto Naohime, where there was a photo of a young woman's life.

"Senior Miyamoto, this one is..."

"The child's mother said she went to a convenience store to buy things three years ago, but she never saw anyone again."

The air inside was a little warmer than outside, and his coughing symptoms improved a lot, but there was still no temperature in his words.

"I'll just say that I know what you are going to do in Kimimizu Sang. Is it because I'm asking about a guy from Sekawa Hitomi?"

"Yes, I hope Senior Miyamoto can tell me what you know."

"It's easy to say."

Miyamoto Naoki drank the hot water in the cup, and a hint of blood appeared on his face.

"I met him about four years ago because I was a gunman in Ito San. To be honest, we gunmen also have a small circle, exchanging some information from time to time, and occasionally we can hear the news that someone's works were taken by the publishing house and successfully "going ashore."

"After meeting Sekawa, I heard about him again, almost two years ago. Some people said that he had already washed away, published two books, and won several small prizes. Originally, I had no interaction with him until last year..."

"At this time last year, I wrote my own novel."

Hearing his accent on the word "self", Qumizuki didn't speak, waiting for him to continue speaking.

"I wrote it out, but it was still the same. I didn't like it from the publishing house. I even asked Ito San specifically, but there was no result... I was a little disappointed at that time, but in despair, I suddenly remembered that person. Thinking that as a senior who successfully "got ashore", he might get some useful advice from him, so I asked someone to contact him and come to visit him with the manuscript. But I didn't expect..."

With a bang, Miyamoto's bulging fist hit the table, his painful expression full of regret and reluctance.

"I didn't expect him to run away with my manuscript! I took my manuscript... cough, cough..."

He took another cup of warm water and barely stopped coughing, but his face was still pale.

"When I saw my manuscript again, it had already appeared in the bookstore, with someone else's name hanging... Haha, someone else's name... Just like before..."

There was a strange silence in the air where there was only the cough. Shimizuki looked at Ito next to him, and he looked shocked, as if he had heard this for the first time.

After digesting Miyamoto's words in his heart, Shimizu Tetsu said tentatively: "So, Senior Miyamoto, are you actually the original author of the "July Mountain"?"

"That's right! Although that guy changed some details, the subject content did not move, and I could see it at a glance!"

"Sir Miyamoto, can you provide the corresponding evidence?"

"Of course! Look!"

He took the paper in the tin biscuit box from him, and Shimizuki carefully looked it through. It was mainly the beginning setting and outline of the novel, as well as the manuscripts and additions and deletions generated by repeated modifications during the writing process. Considering the handwriting, it can indeed prove that the book was written by him.

However, Shimizu Tetsuya felt a little confused: "After seeing that book, has Senior Miyamoto tried to contact him or Kotanshe?"

“So what if I contacted it?”

A trace of depressedness flashed across Miyamoto Naohito's face, "That bastard broke off contact with everyone in the circle and could not be found at all. Kotanshe didn't listen to what I said, and asked the security guard to drive me out..."

"That's it," Shimizu Tetsuya pondered for a moment in the paper in his hand, and looked up at him, "Did senior Miyamoto record the video during the social interaction with the Talk?"

"Recorded," he took out a memory card from the cabinet behind him and placed it on the table. "I have tried calling the police, but..."

"It's easy to have recordings. Can Senior Miyamoto temporarily hand over these evidence and recordings to me for safekeeping? If possible, I will try to let the book return to Senior."

"Stop kidding, that's Kotanshe, why are you..."

After subconsciously refuting, Miyamoto Naohito suddenly froze, "Wait, you and him are both shortlisted for the Naoki Award! That is to say..."

"I will use these to find the judges of Naoki Prize and ask them to come forward. Even if it is Kotanshe, it will not be a problem."

"That way...this way..."

"I can't guarantee that it's OK, but at least there is a great possibility..."

Before Shimizu Tetsuki finished speaking, he saw Miyamoto Naohime holding the table and trying hard to get up. He turned half of the table and came to him. He put his knee on the ground and slowly fell forward. Finally, his forehead was pressed against the ground, and his tone was filled with uncontrollable excitement.

"Please! Qingshuisan..."

The first time I encountered such a thing, Shimizu Tetsu was startled and didn't know how to respond.

Turning his head to look at Ito, he stood still without movement. He moved his eyes, but found that the door leading to the inner room had been opened at some point, with two children's clear eyes hidden inside.
Chapter completed!