【Equip?】
Jiang Yue looked at the purple halo pulsing in his vision and did not hesitate.
“Equip.”
A cool sensation spread from within his mind, sliding down his temples to his cheeks.
Jiang Yue raised his eyebrows and twitched the corners of his lips to test it. A strange sensation immediately washed over him; it felt as though every tiny muscle in his face now had a thread connecting it directly to his consciousness.
Where to tighten, where to relax, the exact millisecond his gaze should turn cold, and the precise beat at which the corners of his lips should drop—every single detail was perfectly under his control.
Jiang Yue stood up, walked over to the interrogation chair in the center of the set, and sat down.
A production assistant leaned over to cuff his wrists with prop handcuffs. The metallic click echoed in the cold lighting.
Jiang Yue turned his head to look at Li Cheng.
“Director Li, I'm ready.”
Li Cheng stood by the monitor, his hand resting on the edge of the walkie-talkie, his fingertips pressing down so hard they turned white.
In the previous scene, Jiang Yue had indeed stunned everyone.
But acting couldn't rely on a single stroke of genius. Capturing a character by chance and consistently maintaining that character in front of the camera were two entirely different things.
To make matters worse, Zhang Yu's arrogant face was still lingering in his mind.
A fire burned in Li Cheng's chest, impossible to suppress.
He would rather gamble on a newcomer who could surprise him than give screen time to a troublesome nepotism hire.
Li Cheng turned to look at Wang Jin and pointed a finger at Jiang Yue in the interrogation chair.
“Mr. Wang, watch closely.”
Wang Jin let out a cold snort and crossed his arms over his chest.
He didn't actually take this audition seriously.
Coming here today, he hadn't intended to completely burn bridges with Li Cheng either.
He knew exactly what Zhang Yu was worth.
What he truly cared about was the director behind Li Cheng—Director Xu, who was helming a massive historical drama production.
Getting Zhang Yu a role in 《Manhunt》 would bring some traffic to the show and, at the same time, do Li Cheng a favor.
Through this favor, he could establish a connection with Director Xu.
He had calculated his moves perfectly from the very beginning.
As for Jiang Yue, he was just a young man pulled in at the last minute to save the day.
The fact that he passed the previous take was likely just a stroke of luck.
Wang Jin had already planned his retreat. As long as Jiang Yue couldn't handle this scene, he would use the opportunity to reclaim the role.
Standing behind him, Zhang Yu sneered, muttering under his breath.
“Just cheap tricks.”
“There are no lines. Let's see how an amateur like him plays this.”
Li Cheng ignored him and picked up the walkie-talkie.
“All departments, pay attention.”
“Last scene. Everyone, stay sharp.”
“Action.”
The clapperboard snapped shut.
The casual air about Jiang Yue vanished inch by inch. The cold white light of the interrogation room fell on his face, and the prop computer opposite him glowed with a red light.
On the screen, a progress bar simulating code destruction began to advance.
The progress reached 10%.
Jiang Yue leaned back in the interrogation chair, his head tilted slightly backward.
His eyes were quiet, but beneath the stillness lay a condescending disdain.
When a genius faced ordinary people, there was no need to voice their contempt. Just by sitting there, he was already passing judgment on everyone trying to tear down his world.
The faint curl at the corner of his lips was so subtle that one couldn't even be sure it was there.
The progress reached 30%.
Jiang Yue's gaze remained fixed on the screen.
At a certain moment, his right eyelid twitched slightly.
Behind the monitor, Li Cheng involuntarily held his breath.
It was incredibly subtle.
When a person's nerves were triggered, the body often betrayed them before their reason could catch up.
The trace of a smile on Jiang Yue's lips faded. His chin rose slightly, and his Adam's apple bobbed. Although composure remained on his face, something deep inside had begun to fracture.
The progress reached 60%.
Jiang Yue's breathing began to falter. His nostrils flared slightly, and his cheek muscles tightened.
No one on the set made a sound.
At some point, Wang Jin's crossed arms had dropped to his sides.
He stared at Jiang Yue's face, his throat tightening.
Having been an agent for many years, he had seen too many actors who claimed to be masters of their craft.
When portraying despair, most relied on screaming, crying, and plastering emotion all over their faces.
Jiang Yue didn't do that.
He used his eyelids, his Adam's apple, the corners of his mouth, and his breathing to dissect the process of watching one's beliefs stripped away, laying it bare for everyone to see.
Wang Jin's fingers twitched against the seam of his trousers. This time, he had completely misjudged.
The progress reached 90%.
Jiang Yue clenched his jaw, the masseter muscles on both sides of his face standing out in sharp lines. There was no screaming, nor were there any tears.
Precisely because he was neither shouting nor making a scene, the pain was all the more piercing.
His eyelid twitched once more.
Then, he closed his eyes.
The progress reached 100%.
【Completely Destroyed】
The red light on the screen went out, leaving only a black screen.
Jiang Yue opened his eyes, and he smiled.
The left corner of his mouth twitched upward, pulling his facial muscles into an absurd and playful expression.
It was a mockery of the police's naivety.
They thought that destroying this code meant defeating him.
They had even displayed the feed inside the interrogation room, hoping to force a confession.
What they didn't know was that from the very beginning, it might have just been a flaw he had left behind on purpose.
“Cut!”
Li Cheng's voice was hoarse.
He pressed the walkie-talkie against the table, his palm resting there for a long time.
【Ding! Strong emotional fluctuations detected.】
【Li Cheng's admiration, Reputation Points +20】
【Qin Shuang's shock, Reputation Points +15】
【Wang Jin's disbelief, Reputation Points +10】
【Zhang Yu's jealousy and fear, Reputation Points +5】
【The crew's collective goosebumps, Reputation Points +45】
【Current Reputation Points: 160】
Pale blue notification boxes popped up one after another before Jiang Yue's eyes.
Jiang Yue withdrew his playful expression.
In an instant, all the extra muscle control on his face was deactivated.
The madman in the interrogation chair vanished.
He stood up, walked over to the production assistant, and held out his wrists.
“Hey man, could you unlock these for me?”
The production assistant still hadn't snapped out of it.
Only after a couple of seconds did he hurriedly fumble for the key.
“Oh, right.”
The prop handcuffs were unlocked.
Jiang Yue rotated his wrists and walked straight toward Li Cheng.
Only when his footsteps sounded again did the tense atmosphere on the set slowly dissipate.
Every eye followed him, and no one was the first to look away.
Wang Jin's expression shifted through several emotions, his gloominess failing to mask the shock deep in his eyes.
He glanced back at Zhang Yu.
Zhang Yu's mouth was still half-open, the sneers he had prepared completely stuck in his throat.
Wang Jin didn't immediately state his stance, but the calculations in his head were already running at lightning speed.
It wasn't worth burning bridges with Li Cheng over such a minor supporting role.
Director Xu's drama was the real prize.
Li Cheng's recommendation was important, but not absolutely indispensable.
Besides, since he had already laid down his terms, going back on his word now would only make him look worse.
Today, he was bound to lose face anyway.
But if he could use this minor role to give Li Cheng an out and regain some goodwill, it wouldn't be a total loss.
As this thought took hold, the dark cloud on Wang Jin's face gradually cleared.
Instead, he was the first to raise his hands, clapping them together slowly.
“Clap, clap, clap.”
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