America Tycoon: The Wolf of Showbiz

The end of February arrived, and Hollywood's annual extravaganza, the Oscar ceremony, commenced.

The focus of this year's event naturally fell on Leonardo, as all media went into a frenzy reporting whether the Leonardo, who desperately sought the Oscar statuette, would finally have his wish fulfilled.

The once handsome Jack, for the sake of performing arts, didn't hesitate to ruin his image in real life, turning into a greasy middle-aged uncle, dumped by over a dozen girlfriends—it was truly not easy.

"If Leo wins, I will sincerely congratulate him!"

When Martin walked into the media area, he happened to hear red carpet host Maria interviewing Nicholson, the old man dressed in a suit and wearing sunglasses, looking quite cool.

His voice suddenly became stern, "If Leo doesn't win, I will set up a special training course just for him, a hellish type of training."

Maria, prompted by the director, saw Martin approaching and quickly pulled him over, asking, "Martin, if Leo wins, how will you three celebrate?"

This question was obviously a trap, and Martin certainly wouldn't pop champagne halfway through; he seriously said, "Right now the results are not out, everything is still uncertain, ask me your question five hours later."

Martin and Nicholson were relatively low-key, helping their buddy rack up some karma.

Suddenly, Bruce stepped forward two steps, blocking beside Martin.

Martin reacted swiftly, without even thinking, he pulled Nicholson over to stand in front of him.

Across the way, Christian Bale had just finished an interview with another red carpet host, Robin Roberts, and turned his head to see Martin.

After "The Dark Knight" shooting ended, he underwent psychological treatment; all the painful memories were suppressed beneath a newly constructed psychological barrier.

Seeing Martin, Bale was reminded of his divorced wife, his broken home, his ruptured corpora cavernosa, and so on. Find your next read on My Virtual Library Empire

In that moment, Martin's appearance suddenly changed in his eyes—the face automatically overlaid with white grease paint, the blood-red mouth drawn up to his ears.

Bale's voice unconsciously deepened, like Bruce Wayne with a voice changer, "There's something called justice..."

Martin shoved his hands into his pockets, merely watching Bale quietly.

Bale walked towards him, "It can make me shine, it can also make me burn!"

All the people and actions around them came to a halt, their gazes uniformly shifting towards Bale, everyone thought he had gone mad.

Martin said nothing, did nothing, simply waiting for Bale to make a move.

If Bale made a move against him here, it would be cutting himself off from the Oscars, from the Academy.

Michael Caine squeezed out of the crowd, held Bale and whispered urgently, "Don't go crazy, come with me, hurry and come with me!"

Kate Winslet came over from the other side and pulled on Martin, "We're going in the theater now."

Martin glanced at Nicholson and followed Kate.

Nicholson had planned to take Martin away at critical moments, "Let's go, getting into a real fight isn't good for you either, after all, the Oscars is the face of the Academy."

The three of them entered the Kodak Theatre in succession, Kate said to Martin, "You're too fond of fighting."

Martin was innocent, "I didn't do anything today, it just suddenly happened."

"She's got problems here," Kate pointed to her head, "Don't stoop to her level."

The two had been in and out of relationships multiple times, so naturally, Martin wouldn't hold such a minor thing against Kate. He said, "I'm an easygoing person, not at all fond of fighting, who in the circle doesn't know this?"

Nicholson added, "Our Trio of Scoundrels is famously well-regarded, whoever hears of us doesn't spare a compliment."

The single Leonardo was waiting ahead, and after the group met up, they entered the main hall through the guest entrance.

The Oscars always respected the old and loved the young; Nicholson had a seat in the first row, Leonardo's "Shutter Island" crew was on the left, and Martin's crews from the two films he starred in were all on the right.

They separated to find their seats.

Martin arrived at the second row on the right, shook hands with Nolan and David Fincher, and wished them luck for the night.

They all knew, however, that tonight it was impossible for them to receive the Best Director award.

The Directors Guild's Best Director award had been given to David Russell for "The Fighter."

Nolan, the director who made his name with superhero movies, had a long road ahead at the Oscars.

"Gone Girl" was not correct enough, and David Fincher himself was not exactly the type of director that the Academy favored.

Martin greeted the other members of his crew one by one, and just as he sat down, someone came from behind and leaned on the back of the empty seat next to him.

SiIlsa Ronan had grown taller again, "Teacher, long time no see."

Martin turned his head to look at the girl who liked to stir things up, asking, "Why has your face suddenly gotten so big?"

Silsa rubbed her cheeks, "It's a real annoyance; after entering the rapid growth phase, I turned out like this, growing like crazy all over."

Martin took a quick measure, "You've grown quite a bit taller."

Suddenly Silsa looked into the distance, her eyes filled with resentment, "At the British Academy Awards, and the other two times, she mocked me, saying I turned out to be defective."

"Who?" Martin asked, and simultaneously remembered, turned his head to look, and indeed it was Emma Watson.

Silsa said, "She called me prematurely aged, a former child star gone bad, said I look like a woman in her forties."

Martin casually quipped, "Going bad is the inescapable fate of child stars."

At those words, Silsa was almost in tears.

Martin wasn't any better, essentially a Nicholson clone, feeling uncomfortable without causing a stir or offending someone, and he went on, "Next time you see Emma Watson, mock her for having a face like a shoehorn."

Silsa was completely baffled by the latter expression.

Martin gestured with his hands, "An ugly, crescent moon face."

This time Silsa got it, "I understand now, thank you for teaching me. I'll see if I can find an opportunity tonight, I want to fight back!"

She deliberately asked, "Teacher, do you have any firecrackers with you?"

Martin asked, "What do you need them for?"

Having learned a lot from Martin, Silsa said, "I will keep an eye on her, and when she goes to the restroom, I'll go to the stall next to her and throw firecrackers inside!"

"It's a pity that the Oscars don't allow pets." She had obviously become mortal enemies with Emma Watson, "Otherwise I'd borrow some pet poop, wrap it with firecrackers, and throw it at Emma to soothe my anger!"

Martin had no intention of indulging her nonsense, "I haven't got any, you should wait for next time."

Charlize Theron arrived at this moment, her seat was right beside Martin, so Silsa Ronan quickly stepped back.

Charlize took a glance at Silsa and, sitting down, whispered to Martin, "You have such broad interests, not as faithful as Leonardo."

Martin shook his head, "I am faithful, I only like the pretty ones."

Charlize then asked, "You seem quite down lately after losing out on movie projects. I remember Elizabeth was out of town, how about you come over to my place tonight, I can help you ease the depression?"

Martin said, "It depends, if Leo doesn't win, I'll come over to you."

As the Kodak Theatre filled, the awards ceremony officially began.

Although the Academy claimed to have completely reformed, the Oscars still maintained the same old tune and rhythm, with too many nostalgic segments before the awards, making not only the young viewers who make up the main body of moviegoers drowsy, but also actors born in the 80s like Martin.

Nostalgic for too many people and things, they were not clear about, nor interested in understanding.

Furthermore, host James Franco's performance was off, and Annie-Hathaway seemed preoccupied, leading to a disastrous performance; the two hosts almost had no chemistry.

Charlize covered her mouth and whispered to Martin, "James Franco seems to be high."

Martin deeply agreed.

Eventually, someone came over to remind Martin that it was time to prepare for presenting the Best Actor award backstage.

Martin went towards the aisle next to him, just as Nicholson also came by, and the two headed to the backstage together.

Once backstage, the director handed the cue cards to Martin and the golden envelope to Nicholson, and gave them a few reminders.

Martin looked at the cue card, flipped it over, and held it in his hand.

As the host finished one section upfront, Annie-Hathaway returned to the backstage. She saw Martin at first glance and, not needing makeup touch-ups at the moment, specifically came over to him.

Nicholson nudged Martin, "Here comes your old flame."

Martin saw her.

Annie approached Martin, "Long time no see."

Martin was every bit the asshole, "Annie, are you okay?"

"Not so good," Annie said bluntly, "Can we find some time to talk tonight?"

Martin thought for a moment, "I plan to attend the Oscar night party."

Up on the stage in front, the announcer's voice signalled the approaching moment to present the Best Actor award.

Martin went forward first.

Before following, that scoundrel Nicholson remarked specifically, "If you want to win back Martin's heart, find someone to get engaged or married to."

The words struck Annie's ears, leaving her frozen in place. How could she possibly win Martin back if she got married or engaged?

No wonder everyone says Jack Nicholson is crazy.

Martin and Nicholson stood in front of the microphone on stage.

The murmuring from below wasn't loud because, after the results of the Screen Actors Guild Awards, the ownership of the major Oscars was pretty much settled.

"Jack, you, me, and another idiot are known in Hollywood as the Trio of Steel," Martin couldn't call them the Trio of Scoundrels on such a formal occasion.

He went on, "People often ask me, 'How many Oscars have the Trio of Steel won in total?'

Nicholson answered, "Of course, four!"

Martin continued, "But they always ask me, 'Does each of you have one?' Then I can't answer."

Nicholson said, "Because we have to save face for the idiot without an Oscar."

The guests and audience burst into laughter; they clearly understood who Martin and Nicholson were referring to.

The main camera also turned to Leonardo, capturing his close-up.

After Nicholson introduced the nominees, he directly opened the envelope, showing it to Martin.

Martin read, "The winner of Best Actor is Leonardo DiCaprio!"