Bab 4: Chapter 4: You Will Become a Supermodel in the Future (Please collect and support)
Chapter 4: You Will Become a Supermodel in the Future (Please collect and support)
Sobbing...
Bundchen felt wronged, truly wronged.
After finishing shooting the commercial in the afternoon, she drove home. It was dark and rainy, and as a novice driver, she didn't dare to drive too fast, proceeding cautiously all the way.
While driving, a man suddenly appeared on the roadside. He had a good figure and was handsome, exuding a unique charm.
But he was soaked and dripping with blood.
Bundchen was startled. This was a notorious violent neighborhood, rumored to be rife with shootings, carjackings, rapes, and drug deals.
This man was bleeding, definitely not a good person.
In a panic, she was about to hit the gas to accelerate, but accidentally stepped on the brake. Coincidentally, the car stopped right in front of the man.
The guy got into her new car, covered in blood.
Bundchen silently blamed herself, how could she mistake the brake for the gas?
She hoped he was a good person who would understand and get out of the car on his own, but reality was cruel. The guy actually pulled out a gun.
"..."
A blood-soaked stranger was sitting in her car. She felt lost, unsure of what would happen next.
"Is there a first aid kit in the car?"
Richard took off his hoodie and pulled down his T-shirt, revealing his injured shoulder. The bullet had hit his shoulder blade; a little lower and it would have pierced his lung.
"Is there a first aid kit?"
He asked again.
"Ah, no!"
Bundchen brushed her hair and happened to see his wound. A bloody hole in his shoulder was still bleeding, making her dizzy.
"Do you have sanitary pads?"
Without waiting for her answer, he started searching himself.
He found two pads in her purse, tore a piece, stuffed it into the hole, and then covered the wound with gauze to prevent infection.
After doing this, he was sweating from the pain, and his face turned pale.
He lay back on the seat, took a few breaths, and said softly, "I'm not a bad person. When we reach the next street with a hospital, you can let me out."
Bundchen pursed her lips. How many bad guys would admit to being bad? Would he be shot if he wasn't a bad guy?
Woo~ Woo~
Suddenly, two police cars approached from the opposite direction.
Bundchen's face lit up with joy. Help had arrived.
"You can go to the police for help. I was in a fight, at most I'll spend a month in jail. But when I get out, Ms. Bundchen, guess what will happen?"
Richard grinned, his white teeth stained with blood.
"How do you know my name?"
Bundchen looked at her purse, which contained her green card. She regretted not helping him find it earlier.
"Don't misunderstand, I didn't rummage through your things. I knew you already, Gisele Bundchen, Brazilian, 17 years old this year, Cancer, height 180 cm, measurements 86-60-86, IMG model, fourth place in the Miss World pageant..."
"How do you know so much?"
Bundchen was increasingly surprised. She had just arrived in New York this year and was a new model with little fame in the industry. Why did this guy know so much?
"Guess!"
Richard smiled mysteriously.
After an electric shock at the orphanage as a child, strange things started happening to him.
He often had strange dreams afterward.
He dreamed that he came from over thirty years in the future, living in a big city in China, going to work and coming home every day, living a monotonous life.
These dreams continued intermittently for over a year. As time passed, his brain capacity was limited, and the dream content gradually faded, leaving only fragments of memories in his mind.
Those fragments are related to people.
As long as he sees a celebrity's appearance and name, he can immediately think of that person's future achievements.
Especially some celebrities' information is recorded in the most detail, such as the future supermodel queen, Giselle Bündchen.
"Bündchen, you are very beautiful. You will definitely become a supermodel in the future."
Richard said.
"Hmph, of course, I will become a supermodel. Do you even need to say that?"
Bündchen raised her chin, very confident about her future.
Richard smiled lightly. Well, knowing these things doesn't seem to be of much use.
"Please turn left, to Douglas Street. There's a private clinic there."
"Douglas Street? It's too dangerous there at night. How about we go to a regular hospital? There are several open in the Upper East Side at night."
"It's too late, I'm bleeding out. Do you want me to die in your car?"
Richard said through gritted teeth.
Damn it~ Bündchen patted the steering wheel. How unlucky can I get to meet such a jinx? If it weren't for him, I'd be home soaking in warm water by now.
The car entered Douglas Street, and the rain in the sky gradually stopped.
More people began wandering the streets, most of them Black. Seeing a new car coming in, they approached together, ready to extort some money.
Richard didn't say a word, just waved a gun at the window.
Seeing this, they exchanged glances and retreated with curses.
The car drove over 300 meters and stopped in front of a private clinic.
"Bündchen, thanks. Here's $300. I hope it's enough for the car wash."
Richard placed some green bills on the car seat.
"No need. Be careful."
She wanted to say "hurry up and get out," but was worried about angering him, so her urging turned into a reminder.
"Haha, thanks!"
Richard left the money, got out of the car supporting himself on the door, and almost fell to the ground as his legs gave out.
"Slow down!"
Bündchen reached out to support him.
"Thanks, my name is Richard, Richard Blade. I'll come find you sometime."
"No need!"
Bündchen quickly let go and drove away.
"Hey, beautiful, drive on boldly!"
Richard shouted with his gun in hand.
Hmph~
Bündchen smirked, this guy isn't all bad.
——
"Al, come out and save me."
Entering the clinic, Richard shouted, clutching his shoulder.
"Richard, you're hurt again?"
Dr. Al greeted him.
"I ran into some jerks harassing a girl on the way. I played hero, and a bullet bit me."
"Where's the girl? Is she pretty?"
Dr. Al stuck his bald head out the door, his bulging eyes leering. Truly a gynecological saint of the street.
"Stop looking. She's long gone. Hurry up and take out the bullet."
Richard lay down and said.
"Don't rush. It's not like you were shot in the head. This is a minor surgery."
Dr. Al put on rubber gloves, picked up a surgical clamp, and began extracting the bullet.
"Hiss~ Where's the anesthetic? You forgot the anesthetic."
Richard cursed through gritted teeth.
"Oh, right. But anesthesia damages the brain. The bullet's almost out, do you still want it?"
".Why are you still standing there? Keep going!"
"Alright, alright!"
Dr. Al skillfully extracted the bullet, then started stitching the wound.
"Fuck!"
Richard fainted from the pain, forgetting there was stitching after the bullet extraction.
"Do you still want the anesthetic?"
Dr. Al paused to ask.
"You're halfway done stitching. Do you think I still want it?"
Richard shivered from the pain.
Dr. Al chuckled. In less than ten seconds, he finished stitching the wound.
"Richard, congratulations, you've saved $5 on anesthesia."
".Am I the kind of person who needs to save $5?"
After more than half an hour, everything was done. Richard passed out from the pain in the operating room.
——
PS. My previous book "My Sister is a Supermodel" is also about the entertainment industry in America, completed with 1.5 million words, starting from the modeling world and moving into Hollywood, including daily life, harem, and acting. If you haven't read it, check it out.
PS. Bündchen is 17 years old and ranked fourth in the 1996 Miss World pageant.
(End of chapter)
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