No. 56, Garden Avenue West Street, New York City, is a twelve-story building with a beige exterior wall. On the first floor of this building, which looks quite dignified, there is a smooth copper handwriting "West Street Building".

If someone is looking at the apartment building opposite the West Street building at this moment, they can see many window signs hanging on this commercial building.

Goodman Law Firm, Dr. David Dental Clinic, Myers Travel Company, and even a small gypsy shop called "Mystery Valley", which specializes in herbal oils for divination...

In this slightly messy signboard with a unique sense of beauty, you can find an unobtrusive signboard:

"Dickinson's Office of Independent Reporters".

At this time, behind the two windows of the reporter's office, the black shutters were closed.

Those who have noticed this detail may think that Mr. Dickinson, who is already well-known in the New Testament journalism circle, must be out for editing at this moment. What no one knew was that this quiet reporter was sitting in his office right now.

And on the table in front of him, from left to right, there are three Dr. Cullen typewriters equidistantly placed.

He is the only one in the office, what is he going to do?

Mr. Dickinson, who was leaning on the swivel chair with his fingers intertwined, obviously thinking about something, suddenly sat up, shifting his weight forward, and some strange things happened on the desk in front of him—

Three sheets of standard typing paper are automatically and accurately inserted into the slots of the three typewriters without wind.

And Mr. Dickinson put his strong fingers on the typewriter in the middle.

He took a deep breath, and suddenly there was a crisp typing sound in the room.

However, the continuous sound of typing was a bit strange, as if the typist didn't need to think, letters poured out on the paper in front of him like a fountain...

No, not only the typewriter he was typing with both hands, but also the identical typewriters on both sides, like double images, and the keys were pressed by themselves without anyone operating them, as if Mr. Dickinson had hired two ghost typists, working with him.

And with a little mysterious ability, you can discover the secret of this scene by using spiritual vision: the New Testament reporter did not hire invisible employees—the typewriters on both sides were also typed by him, but it was not with hands, but formed by spiritual matter finger.

Mr. Sean Dickinson is using three typewriters at the same time, but the manuscripts output by the three typewriters are quite different.

Not only that, each manuscript is free of errors and omissions, and the writing is brilliant!

Three exquisite news reports, from left to right, are the news of the arrival of important officials from the divine court, the price increase of agricultural products in the city, and the news of a production accident in a factory in the lower city...

To be sure, fellow journalists not only cannot write stories like Mr. Sean Dickinson, they are even less likely to do newsgathering like this amazing gentleman—

In the past three days, Dickinson seemed to be able to smell **** sharks. Every time he rushed to find valuable news, he never returned empty-handed.

He can always find out exactly where the news happened and find the person who should be interviewed the most.

Moreover, he can always ask the most valuable and targeted questions within the limited interview time...

If gathering news is like hunting ducks, most of the bullets can’t hit the prey, they can only cut through the air in vain and finally fall to the ground…

Well, maybe it can be expressed like this: Mr. Dickinson shoots down a few ducks by shooting a few bullets.

No misses.

Such a "miracle" does not come from "luck".

Mr. Dickinson's journalistic function has entered extraordinary territory, if the reader understands what "function" means.

Of course, to be able to do such a miraculous thing, besides his functions, he must have even more astonishing secrets.

But I'm afraid this man who is like the "God of Journalists" himself will not share his secret...

The three reports were completed one after another, and the air in the room returned to silence. The only thing that could be heard was the slight buzzing of the flywheel in the body of Ms. Olivia Fengling, who was sitting behind the assistant's desk and was reading philosophical works with her face on her side.

Sean leaned back and let out a soft breath.

He picked up the white porcelain coffee cup at hand, and sipped the still hot coffee—the coffee was poured into the cup by Lady Wind Chime before starting work.

Those fresh manuscripts on the table are moving on their own, getting into the envelope...

The recipient of the address written on the letter paper is Edward Smith, the editor-in-chief of the "Daily News".

In order to maintain his daily identity and make his mark in the news industry, Sean Dickinson has been contributing to the "Daily News".

And it is in this way that he has surpassed the output of farm and livestock breeding, and his writing ability far exceeds that of other reporters, so that he has accumulated some fame in the press.

After finishing his work, Sean walked to the French windows, gently pulled the window rope, and opened the two French windows. The moment the sunlight came in, he squinted his eyes.

The office has restored its daily monotonous atmosphere, and there will be no more weird events.

He raised his wrist and glanced at the dial, the time was half past twelve noon. Sean and Olivia put on their coats tacitly, got up and walked out of the office.

After meeting Aaliyah at a bakery near New Testament Grammar School and enjoying a hot latte and croissant, Sean drove the three of them to Harris.

They made an appointment to go to Moscote Optical Shop today to get a pair of glasses for Aaliyah.

Entering the store with a signboard with huge eyes, there are not many customers at noon, only a couple are talking to the clerk in the depths of the store.

Seeing Xiao En and the others coming in, a red-haired young man with glasses greeted him and began to introduce them graciously.

For her first pair of glasses, Aaliyah is obviously very concerned. The clerk took out a lot of handmade spectacle frames for her to try and choose.

While trying out various frames, Aaliyah was chatting with Sean, and she suddenly said: "By the way, Sean, how could I forget about this!" She turned her head with her eyes slightly wide open, "—the school has already It's decided, next month I will be an official grammar teacher!"

She wore a pair of thin-rimmed glasses with black frames, her hair was long again, and she turned her head to look at Sean with a smile.

Sean suddenly discovered something.

The shy younger sister who hides in the room on the second floor in a white nightgown all day has really grown up.

Now she wears glasses, has a comfortable smile on her face, and is a teacher at the New Testament Grammar School...

Time flows and changes.

Some things will not change for a while, and some things will always change.

"It seems that I really can't treat her as a child anymore."

For some reason, after understanding this, Sean seemed to be relieved, and felt a little happy.

"This is it." Sean in the mirror walked behind Aaliyah, and the younger sister wearing thin-rimmed glasses showed a satisfied smile on her face.

Leaving the Moscote optical shop, the three of Sean walked towards the direction of the parking lot. At this moment, the New York reporter accidentally turned his gaze ~lightnovelpub.net~ and let him catch a glimpse of something.

A book with a crimson cover is placed in the most conspicuous position in the bookstore window.

Below the "Hot Books" logo, on the dark red hard cover is a bronzing lettering:

Lulwich's Short Horror Stories.

Sean stopped in his tracks and opened his eyes slightly: Lulwich was the pseudonym he used in the magazine "New Testament Horror Stories".

He knew that his collection of short stories had come out, but he didn't pay attention to it because he was too busy.

He didn't expect that he would meet it on the street by chance...

This feeling is really wonderful.

"Wait," Sean turned to the two ladies and said, "I'll go to the bookstore."

With that said, Sean pushed open the door of the bookstore.