Mask X Cleaver X at?
Jason was taken aback when he heard this na, then he smirked.
The mask was worn on my face.
The cleaver was held in my hand.
at?
Of course, it was my favorite.
I wished I could chew it at all tis.
What a great na!
Jason thought to himself, placing his diary next to the cabinet where the mask and cleaver were kept, then stood up and walked towards the door.
The door opened outward.
As Jason pushed the door, the person standing outside suddenly felt overshadowed by a shadow. When they looked up and saw Jason’s rugged face, which was actually horrifying, they were startled and retreated in fear.
"Don’t, don’t co any closer!"
The person said this, then their feet slipped, and they collapsed on the ground, their whole body leaning against the iron railing of the stairs, their head desperately thrown back, as if trying to distance themselves as much as possible from Jason.
Even as the typically neat diterranean hairstyle that should have circled around the top of the head, fluttered in the sunlight and breeze amidst such movent.
Jason frowned.
The person in front of him was a middle-aged man, with a face resembling those near his hotown, unremarkable features due to balding, which made him seem prematurely aged. His clothes, however, were clean, and so were his shoes, obviously they had been wiped clean recently.
However, in the person’s panic, their clothes were already in disarray and had beco dirty.
"Are you looking for ?"
Jason turned his head and pointed to the sign hanging beside the door.
It was called a sign, but in reality, it was just a crude ’posting
Under the wooden door number ’Silver-11-101’ was an A4 paper taped on with transparent tape, on which was written: Mask X Cleaver X at.
The handwriting was the sa as that in the notebook.
It must have been written by him.
Jason thought this, his gaze returning to the middle-aged man.
At this ti, the middle-aged man finally cald down.
The person stood up in a flustered manner, apologetically saying,
"Sorry, sorry."
"It’s just that Master Jason, you are so unexpected."
The person addressed him as ’Master’, which Jason found slightly awkward.
Such a designation always reminded him of so well-known tricksters back in his hotown who had no real skills.
"You may call Mister or Sir."
Jason emphasized.
"Understood, Mister Jason, Sir."
The person bowed as they spoke, apologizing again, then, as they straightened up, they took out a white handkerchief to wipe the sweat from their forehead, and deftly wound their fluttering hair back atop their head.
Without a mirror, just by feel, they perfectly circled the hair around the top of their head.
Jason couldn’t help but take a second look.
After all, such skill was truly honed through countless practices; without a decade of experience, it was impossible to reach this level.
"I am Ichiro Sakajo."
The person sensed Jason’s gaze but maintained their composure as they produced a business card.
Jason took the business card.
The white paper business card read ’ToRei Productions - Director - Ichiro Sakajo’.
Below that was a mobile number and a landline number, and the back of the card was blank.
As Jason took the business card, this middle-aged man nad Ichiro Sakajo began speaking—
"Please, Sir Jason, save , I really have been tornted enough!"
"Every ti I fall asleep, that woman’s subordinate appears!"
"I have hidden in temples and shrines, but none of it worked, in the end, it was a Master who recomnded to co to you!"
Having said all this in one breath, he looked expectantly at Jason.
By now, Jason could clearly see the person’s bloodshot eyes and dark circles.
Undoubtedly, the person really hadn’t had proper rest for a long ti.
Moreover, the lack of rest over such a long period had affected their logic and aesthetics.
Their speech was disordered, and they completely misunderstood his rough appearance.
"Co in and talk in detail."
Jason said, stepping aside.
Ichiro Sakajo, looking at Jason’s bear-like stature, cautiously approached the door while retracting his neck.
"Excuse ."
After saying this, the person truly entered.
However, they only stayed near the hallway.
Because there were no slippers.
Seeing the person looking bewildered, Jason waved his hand, indicating it was alright.
"Co in directly."
Jason said.
"No, no."
"That would be too presumptuous."
"I’ll stay right here."
Saying this, the person, standing straight, continued to recount what exactly had happened in the hallway.
As a slightly famous director in the industry, Ichiro Sakajo had always been known for his diligent work, not only having midnight discussions about scripts with actresses but also with actors.
Then, for a scene in a film, Ichiro Sakajo specifically took the crew to a remote scenic area for location shooting.
It was purely for realism, definitely not because the businesses in the area had given a ’please do so fee’.
Nor was it to avoid the hassle of being tracked by paparazzi about the script.
Heaven as the cover, earth as the bed, also had its own appeal.
Under the night breezes, counting stars, humming softly, it always sparked creativity, didn’t it?
And with activity, cos dehydration.
Dehydration makes one want to drink.
The businesses in the scenic area were very well-prepared.
They had a full range of tea equipnt.
The tea was high-quality green tea.
And the water for brewing tea was spring water.
Sweaty Ichiro Sakajo poured the tea into the cup and was about to drink it all in one gulp when—
A woman’s face appeared in the teacup.
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