I Also Want to Draw Comics when I Cross into a Pseudo-mother

Author A loses combat capability.

Author A was pulled into the small black room.

Editor Kazama looked at the hard-working author A in the small black room through the window, showing a terrifying smile.

"Draw a manuscript and give me a bite to eat~"

Author A: "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"

————————————————————————Imagine the end of the picture———————————————————————

The system mother looked at the sluggish Ye An, a little puzzled.

It looks... seems to be useful?

Suddenly, Ye An got up and flew towards the system mother——and bumped into the leg of the table.

Boom!

"Ah, it hurts..."

The system mother was taken aback by Ye An's actions, and seeing this situation again, she couldn't help but complain.

[Don't jump over suddenly... And what do you think, flying from such a distance, bumping into the table legs and so on is asking for trouble, right? 】

Ye An didn't seem to hear the system mother's complaints at all, and hugged the system mother's thigh on his own... Probably what Ye An wanted to do, but because of his body shape, he hugged the system mother in his arms.

"Don't, don't, don't! Big brother, big brother, don't post it! I want to live for two more years at a young age! I'm rushing to write... huh?"

The system girl looked dead without regrets, and she was still muttering nonsense such as male の girl Saigao.

"……Silly?"

[Big... big man, cute big tits!I am very satisfied that you have this thought, ha, ha ha ha, ha ha ha ha ha...]

The system girl who forced a smile and then wiped off the nosebleed while Ye An was not paying attention was probably just a pervert.

-

PS1: Servant, Bassaka, Ace Pigeon, are you fucking scolded by labor and capital? !

PS2: ...or I can just pretend to be a woman to pay off the debt, but if the photos are actually posted, they are all photos that people in the book friend group have seen.

Chapter 89 Reject Salted Fish.jpg

Chapter 89 What makes people work hard is not dreams, but lack of money.

The great Mr. Lu Xun once said: I don't think diligence can save the Chinese people.

[Mr. Lu Xun also said: I f*ck never said that! ! ! 】

Leaving aside the matter of the great Mr. Lu Xun, the system mother is really helpless now.

Seeing that Ye An just held the paintbrush like the protagonist of a hot-blooded comic book and became the king of liver explosion, he collapsed on the bed in a blink of an eye.

【Hey... I said...】

"Stop talking, art is laziness! Drink!"

A few black lines appeared on the system girl's head, the corners of her mouth twitched twice, and she was speechless again.

After thinking about it, the system mother stretched out her right hand and tapped in the air a few times, and a screen appeared in Ye An's vision while lying on the bed.

[Look at this, will it be better. 】

On the screen is the comment section of the comic "Unheard Flower Name".

-

"Author Gou! Update quickly!"

"Let me remind you...hehehe."

"Ye'an old thief has no conscience, I will live and die with Mianma!"

"The upstairs is stupid, isn't the heroine just a face?"

-

Ye An immediately closed his eyes, as if he had been polluted, he kept waving his hands in the air.

"I can't see it! I can't see it! Don't try to trick me, I won't do anything today!"

Seeing his recalcitrant appearance, the system mother frowned slightly, and then relaxed.

So, just the old routine.

[I still have the recording just now in my hand!Wake up and draw for me——]

Ye An stretched out one hand and raised it into the air, then pressed down hard, interrupting the system mother with gestures.

As if being caught by something, Ye An struggled to move a few times, but in the end he still failed to get up, and after making an ah sound, he continued to slump on the bed and stare with dead fish eyes.

"Post it, post it as you like! I, Kurokawa Ye'an, was beaten to death by Kazama, died outside, and was dragged into a small black room, and I still don't know how to draw a manuscript!"

Every word he uttered rings loud.

Every sentence makes people feel the backbone emanating from the depths of his soul.