With the conclusion of the Dogwood Festival, Atlanta's 2003 Spring Carnival has officially come to an end.

In a community in the outer satellite city of Marietta, Martin Davis crooked his legs into the living room, protesting with the pain of his injured knee.

It has only been a week since he arrived in North America and he is still adapting.

On the bare wooden wall of the living room, there are two yellowed posters.

One is the cover of a certain edition of "Gone with the Wind".

The other one is the T1000 in "Terminator 2".

Martin sat on the cloth sofa, his nose tickled by the flying dust, and he was about to sneeze, but was disintegrated by a hard object poking his butt.

Rusty broken springs burst through discolored sponges and non-woven fabrics.

Martin cursed and moved his buttocks to sit on the other side. The damaged sponge cushion collapsed into a pit and was as soft as one of Dani's large balloons, covering the key points.

He suddenly felt heartbroken.

As a balloon, the future is even more difficult to survive.

Martin drifted around the country for many years, honing his acting skills step by step, learning related abilities, and even worked as a military substitute for a few years. Finally, he relied on sharpening his skills to get into small supporting roles.

At the beginning of the new year, Martin found a supporting role that could be ranked among the top five supporting actors in the cast.

If the TV series airs smoothly, and if it lasts for another five or six years, maybe it will become a seasoned drama.

Martin, a good drinker, found someone to celebrate wildly. He drank a few homemade cocktails and fell asleep in two oversized balloons. It is possible that his difficulty in breathing caused the tragedy.

When I woke up again, I arrived in Georgia in 2003.

The predecessor, Martin Davis, was in a bad situation. His most recent job was as a house repairman. He fell from the roof a week ago and injured his leg and head.

Martin took advantage of the situation and became the 22-year-old Martin Davis, but part of the memory of his predecessor in the United States, like a program that needed to be decoded, was running relatively slowly for the time being.

This week, Martin spent most of his time familiarizing himself with the language and gradually became able to communicate normally.

The door opened from the outside at this time, and Elena Carter, whose brown hair was tied into a ponytail, came in with the key. Her brother Harris Carter followed behind with a paper bag in his arms.

Elena has exquisite facial features, a tall figure, and her smooth face does not have the freckles common to white people. As soon as she entered the door, she said: "Is your brain okay? Can you speak normally?"

Martin responded with the middle finger, as if he had done it countless times: "What do you know? If you drop your head, your IQ will double."

Elena held her head high and raised her white hoodie to an exaggerated height: "Very good, hurry up and find a job. I don't want to give meals to lazy people for another week. I still have two little kids to raise. I can't raise them."

Get up for you."

During the week when Martin was injured, the four Elena siblings from next door came to deliver meals.

"According to Dr. Bill, your probability of recovery within a week is as high as 70%." Harris-Carter put the paper bag on the low wooden table and said, "The church distributes free bread, and this time there is fried chicken."

He turned around and left: "Bill has been working for two months and cured twenty sheep and thirty-five cows without making any mistakes."

Before leaving the house, Harris turned around and said, "The bicycle belongs to me today, and I will go and tutor Sister Cole with her homework."

"You two idiots, take me to the vet!" Martin swore and took the paper bag without ceremony.

Elena sat down next to Martin, touched the affected butt, and said: "You don't have shitty medical insurance, and I have no money to take you to a regular clinic. Bill used to live on this street, no.

Charge us the medical fees.”

Martin took out the bread and ate the fried chicken. He recalled the injury and the situation at his previous job, and said: "The house repairman owes me two weeks' salary, and this injury, I want to think of a way to get more money."

His pockets are cleaner than his face, he is extremely poor, and certain thoughts automatically jump out of his mind.

"You'd better get more money!" Elena grabbed a piece of bread and took a hard bite: "What you've eaten this week, and what you've eaten and drank in the past few months, I don't want to be a poor guy like you.

No matter what. But your bastard dad hasn’t paid the rent for this house for half a year."

She stared, even more fierce than the towering mountains: "The most bullshit thing is that your father Jack kidnapped my mother Emma this Monday and eloped in the name of true love and freedom!"

These words reminded Martin that he searched his memory and sadly discovered that he was not as simple as a poor man.

One month before Jack Davis took Emma Carter away, his predecessor, Martin Davis, borrowed $6,000 from the owner of Beast House at a high interest rate.

Emma Carter conveniently stole the money her husband Scott Carter made from selling stolen goods.

The two of them slapped their butts and happily traveled around the world, leaving two messes behind.

Martin whispered: "The loan shark that is repaid in installments will have to pay back the first installment soon."

"Go and ask for God's blessing." Elena shrugged. There is no cheap sympathy among poor people.

Martin shook his head and said: "God will not bless poor people."

"It will soon be this year's disability subsidy review date. My uncle James's subsidy has been received by Jack on his behalf all these years. Jack has left behind a memory. Now that he has eloped with Emma, ​​the subsidy will be over." Change to Elena.

Worried and crazy: "How can I maintain this damn life without money?"

Martin was about to ask a question, then he remembered that this house belonged to James Carter, and said: "Your uncle died eight years ago and ate the wrong flour."

"I'm sure now that your brain is not broken." Elena didn't care at all and pointed to the woods behind the house: "James is buried there."

A few days ago, she was worried that Martin had fallen from a pauper to an idiot and a pauper, and would have to raise another one in the future. At this time, she felt relieved and said lightly: "James is lucky to be freed from the pain of a pauper. You are the one who buried him."

I dug it."

"Damn it!" Martin had a headache. The poor people in hell had an incurable disease.

Elena took out her cell phone with the paint peeling off, looked at the time, stood up and said, "It's time for me to go to the mall for a last-minute shopping trip."

Martin said casually: "Don't worry, you can always find a way out."

Elena looked at the T1000 poster and said, "Stop working for free at that damn theater company. Robert Patrick never returned to the Marietta Theater Company after he became famous."

What Martin wants now is to solve basic life problems first, and responded: "Don't worry, I won't work for free."

Because Martin Davis has a criminal record, Elena warned again before going out: "Poor man, if you can't do it, I will settle a score with you. Calculate how many times you and I applauded, and how much you have to pay me."

Money! Also, I will call the Beast House Club and tell them that you are willing to work as a gigolo to pay off your debt! Think about why they are willing to lend you a loan shark!"

"Shouldn't you pay for applause? I'll give you hundreds of millions every time!" Martin said matter-of-factly.

Elena raised her hands above her head and extended two middle fingers.

After Martin finished eating the bread and fried chicken, there was food in his stomach and his legs didn't seem to hurt anymore.

After cleaning up briefly, he went out and stood in the sun, looking at it for a while.

Marietta is a small, sparsely populated southern suburban town. Even in Clayton, a dilapidated community where Martin is located, every single-family wooden house has a small yard in front of it.

In the yard next door surrounded by broken barbed wire, a boy was digging a pit with cardboard at his feet.

This is Elena's ten-year-old brother Hall Carter.

An old Dodge pickup truck drove up along the cracked road, with a spray-painted image of a dancing man and the words "House of the Beast" written underneath.
Chapter completed!