America Tycoon: The Wolf of Showbiz

Brooklyn Studio, it was the last day of filming for Martin's lead role.

The Cadillac Escalade, battered and bruised, was driven onto the set by Lewis.

Martin came from the rest area, his face and body covered in wounds, with blood seeping out from more than one place, as if he had just returned from a slaughterhouse in hell.

Chad arrived on the set and carefully examined Martin, "The last scene will be shot in one long take, starting from when you get out of the car. We'll try to do it in one go."

Martin had been in good form recently and said, "I'll do my best."

Chen Hu came over and said, "This doesn't quite fit with the protagonist's battle-hardened survival status."

Martin was prepared, "Shoot the crash scene first, I will go out and run a few laps."

Chad had never been worried about Martin and called Lewis over to get in the car and prepare for shooting.

Before the filming began, Martin left the set and sprinted alone at nearly his top speed.

When he returned to the studio after running a large lap and gasping for air.

Lewis crashed the car into the steps in front of the clinic.

The shot was complete.

Seeing Martin return, panting, Chad shouted, "All departments ready, we are about to start shooting."

Chen Hu took a brief look at Martin, noticed the sweat on his face and his heavy breathing, and hurried Martin to get in the car.

As an action director who specializes in close combat, he understood Martin's physical endurance and knew that Martin must have been sprinting to achieve such a high level of physical exertion in a short time.

Martin got in the car, sitting in the driver's seat.

The car door closed, and the shooting began immediately.

This was the protagonist Jonathan's concluding scene; in just a few days, he had been through numerous fierce battles, his body covered in wounds, his strength nearly depleted.

Seeing the clapperboard outside the car, Martin pushed open the door, gasped as he stepped out, covered in dirt and injuries, his head drenched with sweat, his hair clumped with bloodied mud sticking to his scalp.

He staggered a few steps and fell to the ground, his Nokia N97 concept phone landing on the ground in front of his face.

This was a Nokia advertisement, so naturally, the phone's large screen wouldn't break.

Martin stretched out his shaking fingers and pressed the play button, and a video of a wedding photography session began to play.

Alexandra Daddario, dressed in a bridal gown, ran towards Martin like a bolt of lightning.

Amid the upheaval, she knocked Martin to the ground.

She got up, reached out her hand, and pulled Martin, "Get up, Jonathan, get up quickly!"

Martin, propping himself up on the ground, seemed to muster all his strength just to stand up waveringly.

The video of the female lead ignited the male protagonist's will to live.

In the storyline and character setting, this was an assassin who retired because of love.

Also, because of the female lead's love, he wanted to survive.

Martin picked up the Nokia phone, grabbed the handrail with effort to climb the steps, opened the clinic door, and started searching for medicine.

Suddenly, the door with its shattered glass opened, and Mene entered.

Martin turned around, a pistol now in his hand, its dark muzzle pointed at the newcomer.

Mene leaned back in the chair and spoke with a deep, magnetic voice, "Welcome back alive, Jonathan... "

Martin sat opposite him, tore open his shirt to clean his wounds, "Thanks for the intel, Winston."

"Cut!" Chad called a halt to the shooting, "This one's a wrap."

Martin took off his dirty suit jacket, threw it to an assistant coming from the crew, stood up and stretched a little, his breath now even, feeling an inexplicable sense of relief.

After many days of shooting a large number of action scenes, one inevitably feels exhausted.

The completion of work brought a sense of relief at the mental level that even made Martin stretch his arms in a lazy yawn.

Chad came over and, on behalf of the crew, presented Martin with the concept N97 that had been used in the shooting.

Martin waved at Bruce, who dragged out a large suitcase.

For the workers in Hollywood, not receiving a gift personally from Martin would leave something to be desired.

Martin didn't bother to remove his makeup yet and began handing out gifts generously, personally delivering suit sets to each member of the crew.

Some well-informed members of the crew, like those with close ties to Warner, had heard rumors that the hand-carved Joker was quite valuable.

People like Mene, Chad, and Bradt, who had worked with Martin several times, were already planning to install a display cabinet at home.

After distributing the gifts, Martin left the set with Mene.

Although the crew's shooting would continue for a few more days, both of their scenes were done.

Martin asked, "Heading back to Los Angeles tomorrow?"

Mene, slightly embarrassed, shook his head, "I'm planning to go to Las Vegas." He explained, "I have an appointment with Celine to spend a few days at Caesars Palace."

Martin expressed his admiration, "Remember to get me an autographed photo, I'm a big fan of 'My Heart Will Go On,' a classic for the ages."

"That's a small matter," said Mene confidently, "Even getting her to personally come to Los Angeles to take a photo with you and sign it wouldn't be an issue."

Martin gave Mene a thumbs up, "Old buddy, you're too good."

Mene's confidence was forged through many verbal battles, "The main thing is that Celine has been living quite gloomily these past few years, and I happen to be able to help her dispel her gloom."

"Good luck," Martin said as he climbed aboard his trailer.

After removing his makeup, showering, and changing his clothes, he came out and got into the Escalade Bruce was driving, but instead of heading back to the hotel, Bruce drove straight to the affluent area of Long Island.

The car arrived at a villa community in Nassau County, where Bruce quickly found a detached villa.

Martin made a call, and the car went straight into the yard of the detached villa.

Angela Lindvall, wrapped in a bathrobe, was sitting by the outdoor swimming pool.

Nearby, a yoga mat was laid out, and Carolina was practicing yoga, her flexible body taking on all kinds of incredible poses.

Martin got out of the car, and Bruce immediately left.

Angela called out from under the sun umbrella, "Martin, come over quickly, KK needs an assistant to help her with more difficult moves."

Martin hurried over and said, "My favorite thing is helping you girls out."

Angela also stepped out from under the sun umbrella and said to KK, "If you want to recover quickly, you need to accept more help. Martin and I will help you."

Carolina glanced at the two wolf-like men and asked, "Can I refuse?"

Angela said, "You can, but it won't make a difference."

Martin said, "I'm leaving New York tomorrow, heading back to Los Angeles."

"So soon?" Carolina, a tough cookie herself, said, "Just come on over!"

Years of practicing yoga had given KK extraordinary flexibility, and even a slight weight gain hadn't greatly affected her.

Today, Martin fully embraced his goodwill, first helping KK practice difficult yoga moves, and then helping Angela with a set of pull-ups.

Perhaps it was the excessive effort that made him fall asleep quickly in the first-class cabin when he boarded the plane the next day.

…

The Los Angeles Museum of Contemporary Art, a sizable gallery within, was hosting an art exhibition by the California Institute of the Arts.

This exhibition was sponsored by multiple parties, aimed at giving the art school's outstanding students a chance to showcase their work.

From sculptures, paintings, ceramics, conceptual art, fashion design, to jewelry design, numerous pieces crowded the entire space.

Los Angeles is a city with a rich artistic atmosphere, and if someone took a liking to any work at the exhibition, they could discuss purchase details with the organizers and the artist.

Over a few days, several works were sold.

For instance, a few horn carvings by sculpture major Lily Carter were successively purchased by Angelina Jolie and Jennifer Aniston.

And with their praise, Lily Carter gradually gained some reputation, subtly becoming one of the stars of the exhibition.

Casey Affleck, with his hands stuffed in his pockets, exuding a distinct sense of despondency, entered the gallery.

This blend of despondency and rakishness seemed particularly alluring to young girls. From the moment he walked into the gallery, several 20-year-olds frequently glanced his way, their eyes lingering before turning away.

Casey looked around and seemed attracted to the sculptures, meandering into their exhibit area.

He swiftly looked over several pieces and finally paused in front of a bust.

This particular bust had a special appeal, giving viewers a warm, sunny feeling upon seeing its face.

Casey's gaze settled on the lower left corner, where a card marked the artist's name: Lily Carter.

That was it, the right name!

California Institute of the Arts, sculpture major, Lily Carter.

Casey waved over an attendant and said directly, "I'm interested in this statue, I want to buy it."

"Sir, you have good taste," the attendant replied. "This is the work of one of our college's most talented students in recent years. Many artists believe she will definitely become a master in the future."

Casey nodded. "I'll take the piece, but I want to meet the sculptor in person," he pointed to the sculpture, "for a joint photo as a memento."

This was the usual process for the exhibition, so the attendant immediately agreed, "I'll go notify and go through the procedures."

Casey said, "Please do, let me know what I need to do."

The attendant went to fetch a supervisor to handle the commercial procedures and then informed the organizers.

The students participating in the exhibit were either serving as attendants inside the gallery or helping out elsewhere.

After Casey wrote a check, it wasn't long before a teacher accompanied a tall girl towards them.

The girl was beautiful, and even in Hollywood, she would rank near the top.

"Hello," Casey put on his most appealing despondent and rakish front.

Lily offered a formulaic smile. "Hello."

She had seen far too many despondent rascals like him in the Clayton Community.

Addicts, wastrels, sewer rats.

A few days ago, Martin had called and even had some photos sent over.

As a sculptor, Lily was particularly sensitive to the details of facial lines and remembered them exceptionally well.

She had recognized Casey Affleck from one of those photos as soon as he walked in.

But she said nothing, remaining very cooperative and following the routine sales protocol of the exhibition, posing formulaically with Casey and the sculpture for a picture. Find adventures on empire

Casey made light-hearted comments, and when the procedures were completed, he asked, "I'm also a sculpture enthusiast and often encounter issues in this area, may I seek your advice?"

Lily, with her hands tucked into the pockets of her short coat, gently fingering a carving knife, replied, "Sure."