Chapter 154 Chapter 153 The Grand Promotion of the Book (Part 2)
Everywhere there was Jojo’s damn crooked smile!
On the carriage, on the walls, on the banners, and on the flyers scattered by the newsboys.
Owen Green found himself driven almost mad by Jojo’s crooked smile.
Just thinking about such a vulgar and tacky book receiving such grand promotional efforts made the acid in his stomach churn.
Owen Green had to force himself to swallow a few bites of foie gras to suppress the acid rising in his stomach.
He sat in a high-end restaurant catering to the middle class, which, though expensive enough to cause him some pain, also made him unhappy when the waiter’s contempt was visible in his eyes upon seeing Owen’s shabby attire. However, the surprise in the waiter’s eyes when he prepaid made it worthwhile.
Moreover, there was no crooked smile of Jojo here.
“Ah, finally some relief.” Owen Green bit into a serving of vermicelli with bean sprouts, “At least in this upscale community, I won’t see any base vernacular.”
Because Owen Green not only chose to dine here, but also reserved a private room for himself.
“Knock, knock, knock.”
There was a knock at the door of the room.
“Come in.”
The waiter came in with a tray and said, “Mr. Owen, there’s one more dish.”
Owen Green glanced at the table: “Isn’t everything already served?”
“The owner sends one more dish to every customer,” the waiter lifted the lid, revealing a steaming sweet potato, “one serving of baked sweet potato.”
Owen Green had a foreboding feeling in his stomach, the acid brewing again as he said, “It wouldn’t be ‘Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure,’ would it?”
“Mr. Owen, your guess is correct.”
Owen Green slammed the table and shouted, “Get it out of here! Hurry!”
The waiter looked at Owen Green, shocked at his sudden outburst, and quickly took the tray away.
After the door closed, Owen Green shook with anger, looking at the table full of exquisite food, he had no mood to eat.
But thinking about how he had just paid two gold coins for this meal made his heart ache, and he forced the food into his mouth.
Half an hour later, he stuffed himself full, the lavish meal giving him a rare sense of satisfaction.
He leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs towards the charcoal brazier under the table.
Owen Green dismissed ‘Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure’ from the realm of literature, believing that the readers in the market had poor taste, lacking the discernment to appreciate the masterpiece he had poured his heart into.
But the thought of that book becoming a bestseller made the acid in his stomach churn again.
Although the success of ‘Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure’ had nothing to do with him, it was beneficial for him since it meant more lucrative ghostwriting work could continue.
He could escape from his previously impoverished days.
But the thought that this book could sell so well made Owen Green feel that his previous hard work in writing was a complete waste of life.
He was being denied validation.
“This book won’t be popular for long, it won’t even cover the promotion costs,” he concluded, “this kind of hype can make even a book written by an illiterate sell well, but it’s only a temporary thing.”
“In a few days, the book will surely be ignored. It’s filled with absurd words, and any literate person would find it disgusting.”
After saying that, he no longer felt the acidity in his stomach. He went out to hire someone to buy a few classic literary works from the bookstore, and he gave money to the maid, asking her to help him buy a few days’ worth of meals.
He planned to stay in his house, isolating himself from the world for at least half a month, by then ‘Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure’ would surely be over, turning into toilet paper like a sponge stick in public restrooms.
A week later.
Owen Green spent a week alone in his house, finishing a classic work of literature and feeling his soul purified, all the dirty remnants left by ‘Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure’ that had poisoned his spirit vanished completely.
Just then, the weather in Adolf turned from cloudy to clear, a ray of sunlight streamed through the wooden window gaps, falling onto the table.
Owen Green pushed open the wooden window, and fresh air rushed in. He took a deep breath, resting his hands on the window frame, leaning out to take a look at the nearby Xueyue Publishing House.
There were no banners or flags, everything was as usual, as if ‘Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure’ had never existed.
“It must have become toilet paper by now.”
Facing the sunlight, Owen Green smiled brightly. In his imagination, sales of ‘Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure’ had plummeted, causing the publisher to take down the banners and flags.
He regained his confidence and planned to go for a walk, then stepped into his newly delivered custom leather boots, donned his tailored new coat, and went out.
The maid spoke to him in an unskilled capital city accent: “Good afternoon, Mr. Owen.”
He glanced at the maid and responded perfunctorily, “Hmm, you too.”
With that, he walked on, wearing his new leather boots.
The street was wide and sparsely populated.
“What a beautiful city.” Owen Green remarked, “After the scourge of bad books, I’ve come to appreciate the city’s beauty.”
He reached a narrow street where a poster for ‘Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure’ was still plastered in the alley, with Jojo’s smug smile still on display.
Owen Green said, “What a pity.”
As he made his way halfway down the street, he remembered that his manuscript paper was running low and that he needed to buy some new ones.
“My manuscript paper is wasted on such foul writing.”
He muttered to himself as he arrived at the grocery store he frequently visited.
The grocery store was dimly lit, several wooden windows were open. Sunlight streamed in, casting rays on a pile of clutter, with the dust floating in the sunlight.
When Owen Green walked in, he sneezed a few times.
Although with his current income and assets, he could go to a more specialized place, he still remembered the old man’s face when he desperately begged for credit.
The store owner popped his head out from behind the counter, his messy red hair visible: “Owen, you little rascal, have you struck it rich?”
Owen Green tried to maintain his composure as he pulled out a small pouch from his pocket, filled with silver coins, and lightly tossed it onto the counter, everything feeling so easygoing.
It’s worth mentioning that he had practiced that motion for no less than a hundred times: “Here’s your money, twelve silver coins, no need for change.”
The store owner opened the pouch and counted: “Indeed, twelve lovely silver coins, but don’t forget your old pal, Owen.”
How shameless.
Owen Green said, “Alright, give me one hundred sheets of manuscript paper, the whitest and cleanest you have.”
“Okay.” The store owner said, quickly grabbing a ladder, climbing up to the shelf, and rummaging through a box.
This stirred up another cloud of dust.
Owen Green covered his nose with a clean handkerchief.
The store owner came down, having counted out the paper: “White as snow, flat like my wife’s chest, the best paper, and I’ll throw in an extra ten sheets.”
“Good, no need for change.” Owen Green laid out a row of silver coins, exactly four silver coins, picked up the paper, turned, and left.
“Owen!”
“I said no change!”
“No, you haven’t paid enough.”
“Isn’t it fifty sheets for one silver coin?”
“That was before.” The store owner replied, “It’s increased fivefold now.”
“Fivefold?” Owen Green exclaimed, “Why is it so expensive?”
“Recently, a book has been selling very well, and the printing house has been printing more, driving up the price of paper.”
Owen Green felt an ominous premonition in his heart and asked: “Is it Russell’s?”
“I haven’t heard of it.” He said, “It’s a book written by someone named White-haired, oh, he also wrote a yellow book previously, which was really thrilling. I mean both are thrilling.”
It felt as if Sigma himself had given him a powerful blow with a hammer to the head.
How well must this book be selling to raise paper prices?
His lips trembled slightly as he asked, “This book can’t possibly be ‘Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure’…”
“Exactly, that’s it.” The store owner showed a genuine smile, “For the first time, I feel how enjoyable reading is.”
You tasteless, vulgar man!
Owen Green dropped five silver coins and hurriedly left.
Behind him, he could hear the store owner’s hearty laughter: “Come again next time.”
Never again!
Owen Green felt the weather had grown colder; he tightened his new coat around him as acid continued to rise in his stomach.
In his whole life, he had never heard of any book being so popular that it could cause the printing house to raise the price of paper fivefold.
Owen Green hoped the store owner was lying, trying to cheat him out of more money, taking advantage of the gullible.
“Power of three potatoes! Jojo demands your life today!”
“I have the power of four potatoes! I am Jojo.”
Owen Green turned his head and saw several children beside the road still playing with sweet potatoes.
He remembered this was one of the climactic points of the novel, facing the villain with a face full of bad words.
Jojo had brought a bag of sweet potatoes from home to confront, and defeated the opponent by munching on sweet potatoes.
He said forcefully: “Things for children!”
Holding his churning stomach, he quickened his pace but realized this city was beyond saving.
‘Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure’ had polluted this city.
Everywhere outside, there was Jojo.
The roasted sweet potato seller shouted: “Jojo brand genuine sweet potatoes! The power of four potatoes for just one silver coin!”
Owen Green thought the price was absurdly high; who would buy that?
“Hurry hurry hurry, give me the power of four potatoes.”
“I want the power of five potatoes.”
Adults shouted loudly, crowding toward the sweet potato seller.
This world is too crazy.
Owen Green hastily walked away, spotting a familiar bookstore.
This was the store Owen Green had always visited, where he bought many classic literary works. Unlike other bookstores, this store didn’t have many people.
Owen Green stopped, hands resting on his knees, staring at the bookstore, muttering to himself: “At least there’s still a piece of pure land upholding the integrity of literature.”
At that moment, the bookstore owner emerged with a pile of new books, placing them on the counter.
Owen Green had another ominous premonition.
The bookstore owner pulled out a brand-new banner with Jojo on it, hanging it in the shop door. The banner flapped in the wind, and the Jojo on it looked smugly at Owen Green with his crooked smile.
“There’s Jojo here!”
“Hurry! Honey, don’t worry about me, go buy one first.”
In a matter of minutes, Owen Green watched as in front of this pure land, a long line formed. The bookstore was much more bustling than any time he remembered.
People pulled out money to hand to the store owner, exchanging it for a brand new copy of ‘Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure.’
A tsunami of stomach acid erupted in Owen Green’s stomach. Losing his senses, he rushed over, squeezed through the crowd, leaped onto the counter, and kicked down a neatly stacked pile of ‘Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure.’
He shouted at the readers coming to buy:
“You cannot read this vulgar novel!”
“Who’s this madman!”
People began to shout, grabbing at him, pulling him down to the ground, and soon, Owen Green was thrown onto the street by the crowd.
