after falling asleep

Chapter 818 13. Woohoo I want coconut sheep

The hesitation of the transparent bridge caused Rohard to make no choice, and Rohard's failure to make a choice made False Smith feel that he was hesitating.

The desire to live was growing, and Fake Smith raised his hands to indicate that he had nothing in his hands, and stood up from under the table.

"My friend, you won't get anything if you kill me...but if you let me go, I can give you everything you want..." Fake Smith lowered his voice so as not to let this seemingly harmless The fat white man suddenly became angry, and at the same time moved slowly, looking for a place to escape.

For example, the large floor-to-ceiling windows behind it.

"Although I don't know what's going on, maybe I can help you... Is there a problem at home? Or lack of money, or trouble in my career. You see, I'm a famous person, and I'm rich..."

The fake Smith who moved quietly glanced back quickly. He wanted to see if he could fall to his death at this height, but he saw a familiar muscle car downstairs.

"That car... wait! Smith asked you to come!?" Fake Smith exclaimed. "You're with that fake guy!!!"

The transparent bridge that was about to choose stopped, and she didn't continue to make a choice. She suddenly wondered how the plot would continue if she didn't make a choice.

Rohard was silent.

"Wait, you don't know?" Fake Smith frowned slightly, his eye bags twitched, and his brown pupils showed a bit of surprise, a bit of surprise, and a deep sense of gratitude. "He's the fake."

A new option should pop up at this point.However, because the last option has not been completed, the plot has fallen into a "stuck" state strangely, and whether it can be promoted depends entirely on how fake Smith can make up for it.

"It seems that you don't know..."

Fake Smith let out a long breath, relaxed a lot, and even pulled the boss chair to sit on it, clutching his beating heart. "Let me guess what he said..."

Sitting on the boss chair, the fake Smith had his back bent, his shoulders shrunk, and his brows showed the melancholy that only the lower class would have. His worry was mixed with some optimism.

Players almost thought that the fake Smith was the real Smith.

Fake Smith is imitating and yelling: "That bastard fake stole everything from me, wealth, fame, and women who should be mine! Oh and my good white brother you. Help me get it back , I am willing to share half with you!"

"Oh, you're not the first one. Every once in a while, some stupid... poor people who are bewitched by him come to me and ask for everything back. Show you something."

Fake Smith lowered one hand, slowly opened the drawer, took out a few newspapers under it, and pushed it to Rohard: "Look, he must not have told you these things."

Rohard lowered his arms silently, walked to the desk and looked at them one by one.

"True Smith!Smith hit with lookalike charges again"

"DNA identification, Smith has no blood relationship with the imitator"

"Smith generously forgives imitators for being rejected as a stuntman"

"Or he cried and complained that the media was bought by me and refused to tell the truth?"

False...or real Smith's voice slowly sounded.

"Don't be stupid. You know the media like hyenas. Pulling a star down can bring more ratings than ordinary news, even if it's fake news, they are good at this kind of thing, like discrediting our once Hope Michael Jackson does."

Smith's tone became low, and he looked at the wall, which was full of photos of him and other celebrities and dignitaries.

The lowest ranks are all district councilors, including leaders of various parties and United Nations officials.

"So young man, are you willing to believe the crazy words of a street gangster, or believe me?"

Smith remained silent.

Because the Clear Bridge faction didn't make a choice.

Smith didn't know this, he shifted his gaze from the wall of honor to the gun in Rohard's hand, and continued to lure Rohard to change his mind: "I will announce to the public that the killer who attacked me this time has escaped, and then I will hire you as a bodyguard, Keep me safe, and the salary will definitely satisfy you. And I have only one request...kill that fake Smith."

Smith moved the sofa forward.

"Think about it. I think you don't mind if I have a cigar?"

As he spoke, he stretched out his hand to the drawer again, and said to himself, "Or you can get one too."

The transparent bridge suddenly felt something was wrong, and chose option one without even thinking about it.

But the transparent bridge made a choice, but Chishen, Wenxiang, and Jun Moxiao didn't have time to do so——

A bad scene happened, and the players watched as Smith grabbed a handful of Magnum from the drawer and pulled the trigger on Rohard, who was tied behind the table.

boom!
The deafening gunshots echoed in the office, and Rohard's chest exploded with blood, and he fell backwards.

thump--

Rohard fell to the floor dully, the blood red of his white shirt was rapidly fading away.

Da da da--

Footsteps sounded, and a shadow fell, covering Rohard.

Smith stepped aside and looked down at Rohard.

The light from the ceiling made it difficult for the players to see the face clearly, only the cigar that Smith was smoking was vaguely seen.

A black shadow descended in an arc, hitting the wound, and Rohard twitched slightly due to the pain of the wound.

That's another cigar.

"Idiot...that genuine guy never found out what the real reason for his failure is..."

False Smith whispered, and as he stepped back, the blinding white light from the ceiling showered endlessly.

The black muzzle of the gun was aimed at Rohard on the floor, and the indifferent face pulled the trigger mercilessly again——

jingle jingle jingle jingle jingle jingle jingle jingle jingle

The sudden and sharp ringing of the phone was extremely ear-piercing in the white light, like an alarm clock waking people up from their dreams.

As the phone rang, more noisy sounds entered my ears.

The endless white light slowly faded away.

Rohard sat at his desk, pressing his hands on the computer. The screen in front of him opened a notepad, which was filled with disordered letters and symbols.

squeak-

Behind Rohard, the door of the manager's office was pulled open, and the middle-aged manager who walked out saw the blindly typed characters on the screen document at a glance.The drop-down box on the right is only as thick as a finger, indicating that he has been doing this for a while.

The middle-aged manager shrugged nonchalantly, and put the empty mug on Rohard's table: "Pour me a cup of coffee, if you don't want to, forget it."

Rohard turned his head and stared blankly at the empty mug that was still clean at the moment.In the eyes of the players, options emerged.

【Go get a cup of hot coffee】

【Put a mug up the manager's ass to see if I'm dreaming】

【Put a mug up the manager's ass to see if you can predict the future】

Back in time to the very beginning!
Mu Su's expression brightened, hey, if you want to do this, I'm too familiar with it.

(End of this chapter)