I am a writer in Tokyo

Chapter 57 Exchange something

The old man's eyes were cloudy, and the pupils were covered with white filaments.

But you can still read a trace of flattery from his eyes.

Even...with a bit of meanness and servility.

His knees were slightly bent, and his stooped body leaned forward, trying to make an extremely low posture in order to win sympathy.

What he proposed was an exchange.

Although he tried his best to look like a decent person.

But the humbleness deep in his soul made his waist like a spring, no matter how long it was pulled, it would still retract in the end.

Seeing that Bei Daoju didn't speak for a long time, his waist became even more bent.

Just as he was about to make his last effort, Kitajima Koma's voice came down from above.

"I want to go and see where you live, just treat it as an exchange."

The old man was taken aback for a moment, then raised his head to try to see the young man's face clearly.

"Sir, if this is an exchange, isn't it..." The old man didn't know what expression to put on, and tried hard to squeeze out a smile, but in the end the smile could only get more and more twisted.

It's like a bunch of wrinkles come to life, crawling back and forth on the face.

At this time, the clerk from the original convenience store rushed over from a distance.

After hearing Bei Daoju's words, he turned his head angrily and said to the old man: "This teacher wants to see your residence, so you can take this teacher to see it.

Don't try to use your little dignity to hold up your face here. "

"Wait, you're talking about this teacher?" The old man was suddenly a little surprised, and after a while, he suddenly came to his senses, the voice that was originally like the noise produced by two stones rubbing against each other suddenly became louder.

It turned into a blowing bellows.

The mouth grows very large, and the eyes are as wide as possible.

"Wait, are you talking about the teacher?"

"Yes, teacher."

"So this teacher is..."

The clerk said proudly: "This teacher is a writer."

"writer."

The old man's face was filled with embarrassment.

Looks very distressed.

It seemed that he was extremely ashamed of his previous attitude.

Kitajima Koma had never been able to see such a variety of expression changes on a person's face.

But the clerk pulled Kita Shimako while the old man muttered some words beside him.

Walking to the side, the clerk looked worried: "Teacher, if possible, please don't have too much interaction with him."

"He's a bum who's been around the area all his life.

Before, I would often strike up a conversation with someone who seemed to have a lot of status.

But basically it will be rejected.

He was always talking about exchanging something, but never what it was.

Maybe it's because they want to win sympathy through this so-called method. "

The clerk pointed to the side, indicating that if possible, could he stay a little further away.

He didn't want to get close to the old man.

Because in his view, one is the bottom class of society, and the other is the elite class of society.

There should never have been any intersection between the two.

If possible, he hoped that the old man would simply disappear in place.

But when he turned around, he found that the old man came up with another face.

"Of course, this teacher, I can take you."

Seeing that the old man agreed, the clerk was a little anxious.

He originally wanted to dissuade him, but seeing that Bei Daoju didn't take his words to heart, he had to whisper a few reminders.

Bow farewell towards the place where Koma Kitajima left.

It's just that he didn't figure out why the teacher wanted to see where the homeless lived.

This sounds absolutely ridiculous.

The old man who was leading the way at the front lost his original intentional flattery at this time, and put on a very calm expression.

This made Bei Daoju feel very disobedient.

But at the same time, he also began to wonder what it was like that prompted his change.

"It turned out to be a writer." The old man walked in front and muttered.

He doesn't like others prying into his life.

It has the feeling of standing naked in front of everyone.

A sense of shame that comes from the depths of the soul.

This is not the same as playing a few so-called humble and fawning scenes.

But he desperately needs an exchange to satisfy a trivial desire of his.

If this is a writer...

Thinking of this, he turned his head and glanced at Bei Daoju.

This time, from the dim eyes, read the pleading?
Go straight along the road, turn a few corners, and finally come under a bridge.

There are a few messy tents under the bridge, leaning against the wall crookedly.

Through the gap, you can see the blackened quilt that is almost used inside.

A few dilapidated household carts leaned around the aisle.

Others had rusty-looking solar cells on them.

On the other side is a site surrounded by a very simple barbed wire.

There are some garbage, cans and wine bottles in a mess.

It didn't smell anything when it was far away.

But after walking in, it was the strong rancid smell mixed with the smell of sweat that hadn't been cleaned for a long time.

Directly submerge people in it.

It is also because I have never seen such a posture, even if I froze to death on the street before, it seems that I am living a better life than this way of life.

Kitajima subconsciously wrinkled his nose.

But he wasn't good at blocking it.

The old man smiled apologetically at Bei Daoju: "Teacher, no one usually comes here, so... basically it's our group..."

He thought for a moment.

Originally intended to use Scavengers, but then realized that this was an admirable author.

He exhaled heavily.

"It's the place where our homeless people usually live." He thought for a while, "After we sold our identities, we became dead people with a sigh of relief in this society."

"So, I can only live here...to make do with it."

The old man made a gesture of invitation, but it seemed that the conditions here were not suitable for such a noble gesture, so he was a bit in a dilemma.

"Teacher, I originally planned to exchange some things, but after knowing that the teacher is a writer, I really want to and don't dare to ask for extravagance."

"Who would have the guts to exchange with a writer?" The old man looked helpless: "So, I think if someone tries to ask about my life, I won't allow it.

But the teacher said..."

Kitajima Koma looked around.

If it is true that the so-called exchange of something.

So what can be exchanged here?

What qualifications do scavengers who have nothing to do with their homes exchange?
(End of this chapter)