"Jason, are you sure you're a writer?"
"Of course!"
"I wrote 'Cross Street Tracker'!"
"You even read it!"
Jason answered without looking up.
Hearing this, a surge of energy rose naturally from the depths of John's heart, wanting to burst forth.
"Do you know why you've only written one moderately okay book in a small scope for ten years and never reached bestseller level?"
"Why?"
Jason asked subconsciously.
"Because, you've never made yourself the protagonist!"
"Believe me, art comes from life!"
"When you make yourself the protagonist—that name 'Jason' will become an indelible symbol."
John said earnestly.
"Is that so?"
Jason muttered, and then his clenched fist smashed out again.
The scent in his nose grew even more decadent!
He was impatient!
Bang!
Another punch was thrown, and this time with the sound of crumbling cement, the door to the secret passage was smashed open.
