Chapter 14 - 14: Ready Player One
Chapter 14: Writing Wonders
"Oh, you tricked me!" Jennifer scolded, though her voice had a softness to it, almost like a playful tease. She felt both annoyed and strangely empty inside, surprised by her own reaction.
What's gotten into me? she wondered.
Martin, with a slight smirk, was feeling proud of himself. It seemed that as he absorbed more desire energy, his innate skill of charm was gradually restoring itself.
After amusing himself with Jennifer, Martin sat down across from her, opening a folder filled with pages of neatly written notes.
"Hey, I haven't agreed to anything yet!" Jennifer protested.
Martin glanced up and gave her a knowing smile, gently brushing a finger across his lips.
Jennifer blushed again. Ugh, this kid has flirted with meโthree times!
"Jennifer, let's be real. I already know everything you're teaching me," he said. "How about this: every week, you make up a test with middle or high school questions, and I'll take it. If I pass, we skip the lessons; if I don't, we keep them."
Jennifer hesitated. She'd already noticed that Martin had a firm grasp of middle school material, but she hadn't realized he'd even self-studied high school subjects.
If he really knew everything... then he didn't need tutoring.
If she agreed, she could still earn her paycheck while Martin would get his free time back.
After a moment of consideration, Jennifer nodded, and her gaze drifted to the papers in front of him. She remembered he'd mentioned writing earlier. Wait, was he serious?
"Martin, are you really writing something?"
"Want to see? I'm almost finished."
"Can I?"
"Of course." He handed her a stack of pages. "Just keep them in order. It's a pain to reorganize."
"Don't worry, I'll be careful," Jennifer replied, taking the pages.
The first thing that caught her eye was the elegant, flowing scriptโhis penmanship was surprisingly beautiful.
This kid could write so well?
Doubtful, she stole a glance at him while he was busy writing. Martin's hand moved swiftly, each stroke forming graceful letters with effortless speed.
"Aren't you going to think before you write?" she couldn't help but ask.
"The story's all here," he said, tapping his head. "I just have to bring it out."
"Wow, that's impressive!"
Jennifer couldn't help feeling a touch of admiration for the young boy. Regardless of whether the story got published, his natural talent alone was remarkable.
Not wanting to disturb him, she turned back to the pages and started reading.
The bold title scrawled across the top read: Ready Player One.
"Ready Player One? That's... an unusual title," she thought, her curiosity piqued.
She began reading, and soon found herself completely absorbed...
By 2045, the world is in crisis, on the brink of collapse due to an energy shortage... Humanity seeks solace in a virtual reality game called 'OASIS,' where life seems peaceful.
But a will left behind by the game's creator shatters this calm: whoever finds his hidden Easter egg will inherit control of OASIS and become the world's richest person...
Drawn by the promise, millions of players around the world join the hunt. Wade Watts throws himself into this quest as well...
The pages described an epic treasure hunt, thrilling dangers, and dark mysteriesโall brought vividly to life.
"Jennifer! Jennifer!"
"Not now! I need to see how Wade cracks this level!" she exclaimed without thinking.
Realizing it was Martin who'd called her, she immediately blushed. "Sorry, I got a bit carried away. This story is so good! Did you really write this?"
She instantly regretted her words.
"Sorry, I didn't mean it that way! It's just... this story is beyond what I'd expect from an eleven-year-old!"
Martin chuckled. "People often judge ability by age, and that's fair when it comes to tasks that are mostly repetitiveโit's true that experience matters in those cases. But for fields driven by talentโlike music, art, or writingโage doesn't define limits."
"Mozart composed music at four and toured Europe at six. Oscar Wilde began writing at thirteen, earned a scholarship to Trinity College at seventeen, and won the prestigious Berkeley Gold Medal for classics. And in China, a boy named Gan Luo became a diplomat at twelve, successfully securing several cities for his country, and was appointed prime minister the same year."
"So, don't underestimate the potential of a young genius, dear Jennifer."
"Alright, alright, our little prodigy! So, what did you need me for?"
"Just to remind you that I'm heading to set for the next scene, so you can clock out if you want."
"Clock out?" Jennifer glanced down at the pages in her hand, torn.
She was halfway through the story, right at a crucial point, and the idea of stopping now... it was pure torture!
"I'll stay overtime!" she said with sudden determination.
Martin grinned. "Are you sure? The director won't be paying you for that."
"This is my overtime pay," she said, waving the manuscript. "But, um, could I... take it home to read?"
"First, thank you for the compliment. Second, absolutely not."
"Fine, I'll stay and finish it here."
"Help yourself to anything in the fridge. There's plenty to eat and drink."
"Thanks!"
Leaving Jennifer in his trailer, Martin headed out for the final camp sceneโthe night swim.
...
"Alright, Martin, just strip down here and jump into the lake," Nancy instructed.
"All the way?" Martin asked.
In the script, the scene was meant to capture a child's natural, free spirit, with the character swimming fully unclothed.
Of course, they couldn't film it that wayโthis was a family movie, not European cinema.
Martin didn't mind, but given the film's family-friendly tone, a shot like that was out of the question. After all, this was America, not Europe.
(Note: European films often have looser restrictions, some even rivaling content produced in the adult film industry.)
"No, just down to your shorts," Nancy replied.
Then, her expression grew serious as she asked, "Martin, I just want to double-checkโare you sure you're okay with this? It's winter, and while California winters aren't too cold, that lake water will be chilly."
"Don't worry, Director. I can handle it. I'm not about to risk my life for a scene."
[๏ปฟ•โโโ•โโโ•โโโ•]
๐ ๐ฌ๐๐ฃ๐ฉ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐ ๐ ๐ข๐ค๐ข๐๐ฃ๐ฉ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐๐ญ๐ฅ๐ง๐๐จ๐จ ๐ข๐ฎ ๐๐ง๐๐ฉ๐๐ฉ๐ช๐๐ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐ฉ๐๐ค๐จ๐ ๐ฌ๐๐ค ๐จ๐ช๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ค๐ง๐ฉ ๐ข๐ ๐ค๐ฃ ๐ฉ๐๐๐จ ๐๐ค๐ช๐ง๐ฃ๐๐ฎ. ๐๐ค๐ช๐ง ๐๐ค๐ฃ๐ฉ๐ง๐๐๐ช๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ฃ๐จ ๐ข๐๐ ๐ ๐ ๐ง๐๐๐ก ๐๐๐๐๐๐ง๐๐ฃ๐๐!
๐ฆ๐ฝ๐ฒ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ฎ๐น ๐๐ต๐ฎ๐ป๐ธ๐ ๐๐ผ:
• ๐ ๐๐ญ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ฎ
• ๐ผ๐๐ข๐๐ง๐๐๐๐
• ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ผ๐ฏ ๐ ๐ผ๐ฒ๐ฒ
๐๐ ๐ฎ ๐ฝ๐ฎ๐๐ฟ๐ผ๐ป, ๐๐ผ๐ ๐๐ป๐น๐ผ๐ฐ๐ธ:
• ๐๐ ๐ฐ๐น๐๐๐ถ๐๐ฒ ๐๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐๐: ๐๐๐ฉ ๐ญ๐ด๐ฑ+ ๐๐๐ซ๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ฅ๐ฉ๐๐ง๐จ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ค๐ ๐๐ซ๐๐ง๐ฎ๐ค๐ฃ๐ ๐๐ก๐จ๐.
• ๐๐ ๐ฐ๐น๐๐๐ถ๐๐ฒ ๐ฆ๐ต๐ผ๐๐-๐ข๐๐: ๐๐๐๐๐๐ซ๐ ๐ ๐จ๐ฅ๐๐๐๐๐ก ๐จ๐๐ค๐ช๐ฉ ๐๐ซ๐๐ง๐ฎ ๐๐๐๐ฅ๐ฉ๐๐ง ๐๐จ ๐ ๐ฉ๐๐๐ฃ๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช ๐๐ค๐ง ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช๐ง ๐จ๐ช๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ค๐ง๐ฉ!
๐ฌ๐ผ๐๐ฟ ๐๐๐ฝ๐ฝ๐ผ๐ฟ๐ ๐ป๐ผ๐ ๐ผ๐ป๐น๐ ๐ณ๐๐ฒ๐น๐ ๐บ๐ ๐ฐ๐ฟ๐ฒ๐ฎ๐๐ถ๐๐ถ๐๐ ๐ฏ๐๐ ๐ฎ๐น๐๐ผ ๐ต๐ฒ๐น๐ฝ๐ ๐บ๐ฒ ๐ด๐ฟ๐ผ๐ ๐๐ต๐ถ๐ ๐ฐ๐ผ๐บ๐บ๐๐ป๐ถ๐๐. ๐๐ณ ๐๐ผ๐'๐ฟ๐ฒ ๐ป๐ผ๐ ๐ฎ ๐ฝ๐ฎ๐๐ฟ๐ผ๐ป ๐๐ฒ๐, ๐ฐ๐ผ๐ป๐๐ถ๐ฑ๐ฒ๐ฟ ๐ท๐ผ๐ถ๐ป๐ถ๐ป๐ด ๐๐!
๐ ๐ ๐ค๐๐ฃ ๐ฃ๐ค๐ฌ: ๐ฅ๐๐ฉ๐ง๐๐ค๐ฃ.๐๐ค๐ข/๐๐ค๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ง
๐ฌ ๐ผ๐ก๐จ๐ค ๐ผ๐ซ๐๐๐ก๐๐๐ก๐: ๐๐ฎ ๐ผ๐๐ซ๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ ๐๐ง๐๐ฃ๐จ๐ก๐๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ฃ ๐๐ง๐ค๐ข๐ฅ๐ฉ! ๐๐ฃ๐ก๐ค๐๐ ๐ฉ๐๐๐จ ๐๐ญ๐๐ก๐ช๐จ๐๐ซ๐ ๐ฉ๐ค๐ค๐ก ๐๐ค๐ง $30โ๐ฃ๐ค๐ฌ ๐ฌ๐๐ฉ๐ ๐ 10% ๐๐๐จ๐๐ค๐ช๐ฃ๐ฉ! ๐ ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ ๐ช๐จ๐ ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐๐ค๐๐: ๐๐ข๐๐ข๐๐ฅ๐๐๐๐๐ฅ.
๐๐๐ฉ๐ ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐ฅ๐ค๐ฌ๐๐ง ๐ค๐ ๐พ๐๐๐ฉ๐๐๐ ๐๐ค๐ข๐๐๐ฃ๐๐ ๐ฌ๐๐ฉ๐ ๐ข๐ฎ ๐ผ๐๐ซ๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ ๐๐ง๐๐ฃ๐จ๐ก๐๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ฃ ๐๐ง๐ค๐ข๐ฅ๐ฉ, ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช ๐๐๐ฃ ๐๐๐๐ค๐ง๐ฉ๐ก๐๐จ๐จ๐ก๐ฎ ๐ฉ๐ง๐๐ฃ๐จ๐ก๐๐ฉ๐ ๐พ๐๐๐ฃ๐๐จ๐ ๐ฃ๐ค๐ซ๐๐ก๐จ ๐๐ฃ๐ฉ๐ค ๐๐ฃ๐๐ก๐๐จ๐ ๐ฌ๐๐ฉ๐ ๐๐ช๐ข๐๐ฃ-๐ก๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐ช๐ง๐๐๐ฎ, ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฉ๐ช๐ง๐๐ฃ๐ ๐๐ซ๐๐ง๐ฎ ๐ฃ๐ช๐๐ฃ๐๐ ๐๐ฃ๐ ๐๐๐ฉ๐๐๐ก. ๐๐๐๐จ ๐ช๐ฃ๐๐ฆ๐ช๐ ๐ฉ๐ค๐ค๐ก ๐๐๐ก๐๐ซ๐๐ง๐จ ๐ง๐๐จ๐ช๐ก๐ฉ๐จ ๐ฉ๐๐๐ฉ ๐ง๐๐ซ๐๐ก ๐ฅ๐ง๐ค๐๐๐จ๐จ๐๐ค๐ฃ๐๐ก ๐๐ช๐ข๐๐ฃ ๐ฉ๐ง๐๐ฃ๐จ๐ก๐๐ฉ๐ค๐ง๐จ, ๐๐ง๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ฃ๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช ๐๐ญ๐ฅ๐ง๐๐จ๐จ๐๐ซ๐ ๐๐ฃ๐ ๐๐๐๐ช๐ง๐๐ฉ๐ ๐ฉ๐ง๐๐ฃ๐จ๐ก๐๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ฃ๐จ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ฃ๐๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช๐ง ๐ง๐๐๐๐๐ฃ๐ ๐๐ญ๐ฅ๐๐ง๐๐๐ฃ๐๐!
๐๐ฆ๐ต๐ผ๐ฝ: ๐๐๐ฉ๐ง๐๐ค๐ฃ.๐๐ค๐ข/๐๐ค๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ง/๐๐๐ค๐ฅ
