How Many Tomorrows There Are

Chapter 24: Guidance during shooting

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The slave in front of him made Hodge feel invisible.

He is a hard bone with amazing resilience, like a tumbler, it will bounce back quickly when you flick and push it with your fingers, and it wobbles against the power to play with it, which is a bit ridiculous and a bit cute.

At first, he was aroused by the rebellious emotions of slaves, and then attracted by his flexibility and playability. Even though he was tortured, painful and weak, the slave did not give up his resistance; even if he was subjected to cruel treatment, he could regain his spirit the next day.

He is not a brainless idiot, nor is he a soft-hearted fool. He knows how to judge the situation, and he is so cruel that he can use his body to cover up his purpose with injured struggles, trying to find his true face.

When Hodge remembered the look in his eyes at that time, his nerve endings became excited.

Where is the soil where this spirit of resistance breeds? What gave him such strong willpower? And what can dispel the shadow of torture

Unable to resist not to explore, Hodge became more and more interested in him, and appeared in front of Brett only one day later.

Brett saw his surprised expression, and the cameraman stopped filming because of this.

Hodge came here as a trainer. He took the photographer's camera bluntly, scanned his works, and commented: "It's too ordinary."

The camera didn't recognize him, so he was very unconvinced: "Where are you from? Don't hinder our work." Someone pulled him away and asked other staff to listen to Hodge.

Bright wondered, what kind of status does a trainer have in this world, or does he have a special background besides his profession

"You are really versatile." He tried quietly.

Hodge said indifferently: "Photography, in the final analysis, is the technology of light and shadow. It is not difficult to master. The key is artistic vision and taste." And the cameraman obviously doesn't have those, he doesn't even have the ability to analyze the object, trying to make A beast becomes a domestic cat, neither fish nor fowl.

Brett shouldn't be wearing a shirt, or getting out of bed, or slouching.

"Go and get a set of military uniforms," Hodge ordered.

The power of expression is a kind of confusing and mysterious power. With the blessing and improvement of this power, you can break through all laws of physics and become the most sexy god in the universe. You can seduce you, tease you, and squeeze you through the screen fuck you.

Bright clearly has this magic.

The man was wearing a dark green military uniform, every button was tightly buttoned, and every strand of hair was neat and tidy. He was wearing a tie, a medal, and a weapon on his waist. There was no wrinkle in his clothes, and he was meticulous, as if he was about to participate in the award ceremony Ritual soldiers.

The military uniform tightly wraps the masculine body, the broad shoulders, strong chest, and beautiful abdominal muscles perfectly support the clothes. Many eyes are on it, wanting to tear off the obstructing fabric and bite Great pectoralis and rectus abdominis. Oh, and those long straight legs are well-proportioned to the upper body, and they are even more attractive after wearing military trousers.

He stands tall and straight, but he is different from soldiers, after all, he has not received professional training.

Hodge pointed out: "Put your hips in, it looks too big, unsightly... Stop, it's not for you to push forward."

The man showed a embarrassed expression, and there was a little grievance in his eyes.

Brett: My ass is up

Brett followed the instructions and took photos of standing, sitting, walking, holding guns, fighting, etc. It took several times more effort than the cameraman just took, and after a lot of tossing, he also felt tired.

Hodge was checking his work, with a satisfied and critical expression on his face, Brett picked up two bottles of drinking water, sat beside him, drank one bottle himself, and passed the other bottle to him. Hodge refused with his eyes, and continued to look at the screen, Brett shrugged nonchalantly.

"How long have you been studying?" Brett asked.

"Two hours."

"That's genius."

Hodge said to the countrymen: "Basic education in the city only needs one injection and is completed in three seconds. The price is low, and ordinary families can afford it. Only higher education and special skills are more expensive." He paused: " Oh, I almost forgot, you are from outside, now it is too late to make up, you need to add some common sense to your empty head."

This overturned Brett's cognition, and he didn't care about his sarcasm.

A childhood without memorizing texts is incomplete.

Easy access to knowledge has many hidden dangers.

"I don't have any money, and the prize money has been given to someone else." Bright said, this is his excuse, who knows what strange things they will inject him, affecting his brain. He pursued again: "Then why did you spend your time studying?"

Because he was bored, to pass the time, and for him, it was as simple as drinking water and eating, Brett described him as "genius", and finally got it right once.

Hodge rarely thought of the past. What was the purpose of learning photography when he was young? The memory was too far away, and he didn't react right away.

Suddenly, there was a loud noise outside the studio.

The staff looked at each other in blank dismay: "What's wrong?"

"I'll go out and have a look." Someone ran out, came back after a while, and said what he heard, "an animal protection organization has sneaked in, they are protesting that the program group uses animals for people to kill for fun, and the security guards are already dealing with it. "

"..." Bright couldn't resonate: Aren't we the players who were killed for fun? How come no human rights protection organizations jumped out

Just like a strange case he had heard before, the father let his daughter marry a pet dog. The judge judged that the father and daughter were guilty on the grounds that they were protecting animals, because animals could not understand what happened to them, nor did they have the ability to protect themselves.

He was slandering, but the noise outside became louder and louder.

Until someone shouted: "There is a bomb!"

Bright subconsciously grabbed the person closest to him and fled, looking for cover. But the person in his arms didn't cooperate and resisted violently. Brett had to increase his strength, firmly restraining the opponent's wrist, and tightly trapped his body with one arm, pressing his side face against his own. chest.

The moment they hid, the wall exploded with a bang, and the dirt and planks were splashed. Brett lowered his body as hard as he could and pressed himself against the floor.

"The target is cleared, and everyone is waiting for first aid."

A cold mechanical voice sounded above his head.

Before Brett could react, Hodge, who was half-pressed by him, suddenly turned over forcefully, and the two immediately reversed their postures. The other party looked at him silently. The smoke caused by the explosion made Brett unable to see Hodge's expression clearly.

The notice was repeated several times, and Brett tried to stand up, but Hodge did not move.

"Hodge, you're crushing me."

Brett said in embarrassment that Hodge accidentally pressed his waist and hips, and his little brother reacted easily because he was still a little sensitive to the previous stimulation.

He was trying to treat this impossibly handsome man with an equal attitude. He needs equal dialogue, even if he greets like a stranger, it's not the superficially calm and turbulent tide among the contestants, it's not the affiliation of the program group from top to bottom, and it's not the solitary state of talking and listening to Latiao. And Hodge is the most suitable person he can get in touch with at present.

In retrospect, it was probably this kind of deep loneliness that blinded him and made him unable to see the true face of that person.

"Don't touch me casually." There was something suppressed in Hodge's voice, which seemed to be disgust.

Brett understood, and finally understood why this beautiful guy didn't lose his morals like the others. He was a serious clean freak and had certain psychological barriers to touching the same kind.

It gave him a certain sense of security and acceptance.

After the explosion passed, the scene was in a mess. Brett finally stood up and found that there were no casualties in the audience, and everyone was conscious. At most, they were slightly injured by skin scratches or being hit by something.

"Damn animal protection organization, there are so many troubles every year."

Brett didn't care about anything else, he wanted to go to the bathroom very much now, because the army pants were not too loose, and the folds of the fabric disappeared after being stretched.

Wouldn't be considered a nymphomaniac...

The author has something to say: Bright: How do you repay for saving your life

Hodge: You touched me, just chop your hands, and let you keep them.