Chapter 15
Beika Daily. The blond young man committed the name to memory.
Neither he nor his agent were from Tokyo; they had only come here for filming and knew very little about the city.
Beika Daily. Judging by the name, it was obviously a second-rate local paper with a pathetically small readership, completely out of touch with celebrity culture and holding no weight in the entertainment industry.
Not worth mentioning. The blond relaxed.
As for the Beika Daily‘s editor-in-chief’s claim of her “dominating the front-page headlines,” the blond didn’t believe it for a second. It was clearly just an excuse the editor had made up to avoid publishing the hit piece.
“I follow the entertainment section every day, and I’ve never heard her name,” the blond said with a dismissive snort.
His interests were quite broad. He loved reading the entertainment section, the sports channel, the children’s channel, agricultural news, and the finance column. He just didn’t pay much attention to the crime section.
“It’s fine if the rookie is unknown. Haha, that’s what I’m here for!” the blond said with a sinister smile. “Soon, everyone will know her name.”
The media was very fast when it came to publishing hit pieces. Fan An had joined the cast this morning; by the afternoon, rumors would be flying everywhere. When Director Kawamura realized public opinion was turning against her, he would naturally kick her off the set.
And then he would have another chance to fight for the role!
“You can only blame your bad luck,” the blond thought, his conscience not bothering him in the slightest. Every man for himself.
Estimating that the online gossip had fermented enough, the blond put on a worried expression and approached Director Kawamura.
“Director, this is bad! Quick, look at the trending topics!”
As the blond urged the director, he glanced out of the corner of his eye at the girl sitting on a small stool brought by the director’s assistant, sipping jasmine tea brewed by the director’s assistant.
Director Kawamura looked down at his phone. The blond’s mouth couldn’t stay idle. He deliberately struck up a conversation with Fan An. “Newcomer, you acted well. Do you have any techniques you can share with your senior?”
As much as the blond disliked Fan An, he had to admit that her performance on camera was on a whole other level.
How did she do it? How could she look so real? As if she had actually just finished killing someone.
“Techniques?” Fan An thought hard. “I don’t have any.”
The script told her to kill someone and then shoot. She had just followed the instructions.
“Is it difficult?” Fan An humbly asked her senior for advice.
The blond felt he was being provoked. He sneered. “Oh, so you’re a natural talent. In that case, you were just being yourself?”
“What else?”
Director Kawamura looked up from the news, a strange expression on his face. “Why else do you think I insisted on inviting her to the cast?”
He had almost dug up Director Matsuzaka’s coffin just to get her here.
“I’ve seen the trending topics,” Director Kawamura said, looking utterly annoyed. “What’s the big deal? Can you people stop making a fuss over nothing all the time?”
The blond froze.
Impossible. He had paid for so many hit pieces. The media had taken the money. How could nothing have happened?
He quickly took out his phone and clicked on the trending notifications.
[Exposing Rookie Actress An: No Audition, Cast by Director’s Favoritism, A Talentless Vase with Connections]
[The Entertainment Industry is Being Ruined by People Like This! A List of Celebrities with Looks but Terrible Acting, You’ll Never Guess the Last One]
[Judging Director Kawamura’s New Work by its Casting: Another Flop!]
The blond scanned the list. All the negative trending topics he had paid for were on the charts. The media had taken the money and done their job. Their efficiency was top-notch.
“Isn’t this enough?” the blond asked, astonished.
The only thing that had foiled his plan was that these negative hashtags weren’t ranking very high. The blond had thought that since there were no other celebrity scandals today, he could spend a little more money and push them into the top three.
“Why are the top three all crime news?” the blond was baffled. “Isn’t ‘The Evil Spirit in the Pitch Black’ Director Matsuzaka’s new work? I heard it was urgently pulled from broadcast.”
He clicked on the trending topic.
A torrent of information flooded the blond’s vision.
[Twenty-Four Crew Members Brutally Murdered Overnight! Suspect An Released by Police Due to Insufficient Evidence.]
[Her Acting is Proof That She Has Killed Before.]
[Explosive! Director Kawamura and Director Yamanaka Argue in Front of Director Matsuzaka’s Grave. Grave-Digging and Séance Tools Found at the Scene.]
[Mastermind? No, a Murderer. It has been confirmed that Suspect An will play the true mastermind in Director Kawamura’s upcoming police procedural. A 100% authentic performance from a god-tier actress!]
The comment section was filled with netizens gossiping.
“A real criminal suspect, how exciting!”
“Sit down, everyone. This is Beika Town. It’s normal for out-of-towners to be surprised.”
“Sister is so bad (heart) but sister is so beautiful (heart) sister step on me (heart)”
“The moment she debuted, all the police in the world came to kiss her.”
“Uncut version of ‘The Evil Spirit in the Pitch Black,’ DM me if you want it.”
“LMAO is anyone paying attention to the trending topics? In a forgotten corner, some blond is barking.”
“Trying to steal a role by smearing a murderer. Hilarious. Tell me, do you like sister’s forty-meter-long, blood-dripping greatsword? (smirking dragon king smile)”
The comment section was a storm of memes. Some people had changed their avatars to a screenshot of Fan An from “The Evil Spirit in the Pitch Black” and were spamming “You reek of jealousy, it’s a crime my nose has to smell” under the blond’s selfies.
Even the blond’s own fans were leaving him private messages, all advising him to back down. “Let it go, oppa, just let it go. Isn’t it good to be alive?”
This was the entertainment industry, a place where looks, popularity, projects, and connections spoke volumes.
Rookie actress Fan An, with the face of an idol drama heroine, had starred in a horror-thriller. Twenty-four people on her set had died, and she was the sole survivor. Multiple media outlets had identified her as the killer, yet the police department had personally vouched for her and released her without charge.
What a terrifying level of buzz. Even if the blond threw all his savings into it today, the hit pieces he bought wouldn’t even make a dent in the top rankings.
“Senior’s face looks awful,” Fan An, who had been too engrossed in reading her script to surf the internet, asked with confusion. “Is he hungry?”
“It’s fine,” Director Kawamura said. “I’ll just Photoshop a red nose on him in post-production. It’ll look fine.”
Clown (heh).
“Have you been reading the script for a long time? Are you hungry?” Director Kawamura glanced at the time. “Soon, the food the crew ordered will be here soon.”
Not being enthusiastic about eating is a sign of a problematic mindset. The girl looked down and patted her flat stomach.
Having a new job was great. The only downside was not being able to eat Hiro’s delicious cooking.
An’an wondered if she should buy a thermal lunch box so she could have a “beloved wife’s bento” next time.
“Excuse me, your food order.”
The zipper of an insulated box with the Café Poirot logo was pulled open, revealing neatly arranged signature sandwiches.
The blond, dark-skinned waiter greeted them gently. Even though the set was surrounded by stars, his attitude remained unchanged.
“Mr. Amuro?” the dark-haired girl said in surprise. “So the crew ordered from Café Poirot.”
Director Kawamura had an expression that said, “I’m so considerate, praise me.” “I heard you and Director Matsuzaka met at Café Poirot. He had a discerning eye, giving up on the actors Muranaka and Kanda who were competing for the evil spirit role, and chose you at first sight. It’s quite a story.”
“I haven’t had a chance to ask you yet,” Director Kawamura asked with great interest. “What happened that day?”
Amuro Tooru, who had been distributing the food while keeping an eye on the girl, was speechless. “…”
Can you even talk about that? Director, why are you bringing up such a sore subject?
Before An’an could honestly tell Director Kawamura, “Mr. Muranaka killed Mr. Kanda, I was at the scene, I was the prime suspect,” Amuro tactically interrupted their conversation, placing a steaming hot ham sandwich in the girl’s hand.
“Coffee or apple juice?” Amuro smiled.
An’an looked around. Everyone else on the crew had a sandwich in one hand and coffee in the other.
She stared at the “Café Poirot” logo and said decisively, “Apple juice.”
The blond young man made an “OK” gesture and, like a magician, produced a thermos.
Ice-cold, freshly squeezed apple juice was poured into a cup. Amuro was not surprised to hear the girl’s “wow” of delight.
When he had picked her up from the police station, the dark-haired girl had been standing behind him, very close. Amuro had smelled the sweet, fruity scent in her hair.
It was a clean, slightly sweet fragrance.
She probably prefers juice to coffee. With this guess in mind, Amuro had prepared a separate portion of freshly squeezed apple juice before coming to the set to deliver the food.
The girl did indeed love it. She happily slurped it down.
She didn’t seem to be affected by public opinion at all. The undercover Public Security officer breathed a sigh of relief.
From his perspective, An’an’s situation was truly tragic. She was so unlucky she would probably choke on water.
She was almost murdered by Vodka, took the fall for a massive crime committed by Gin, was used as a poster child by the Beika Daily‘s crime section, and today, she was trending for some unknown reason, suspected of being the target of a hit piece bought by a fellow actor.
I have to do something for her, at least, Amuro’s conscience pricked him.
“Mango mousse? For me?”
The dark-haired girl’s eyes were glued to the small cake box, unable to look away, but she asked with a straight face, “Is it just for me, or does everyone get one?”
Amuro pretended to think. “If I say it’s the latter—”
The girl struck like lightning, taking a big bite out of the largest, sweetest piece of mango in the middle of the mousse, and said unreasonably, “Too late. It’s all mine.”
Tyrannical.
The blond young man smiled and made a gesture of surrender. He continued to distribute food to the rest of the crew. The sandwiches in the insulated box dwindled, until only one was left.
The crew had ordered one per person. The director’s assistant looked around. “Where’s the third male lead?”
Not even enthusiastic about eating. There’s something very wrong with that blond.
“It’s probably a male celebrity’s body management,” An’an said. She remembered the blond had debuted through a talent show. Idols had even stricter diets than actors.
“Please allow me to eliminate these evil, high-calorie calories for my senior,” she said righteously. “We can’t waste food.”
“This third male lead, he has a scene right after lunch. Where did he run off to?”
Director Kawamura said, displeased, “Everyone, go look for him.”
Everyone got up and searched, calling the blond’s name, but half an hour passed, and he still hadn’t appeared.
The crew started to panic. The director’s assistant asked Director Kawamura, “He hasn’t gone missing, has he? Should we call the police?”
Director Kawamura refused. If the police came, his filming would definitely be halted, causing a lot of delays.
“Mr. Amuro,” Director Kawamura had a flash of inspiration. “I hear you’re a detective?”
He wanted to hire Amuro Tooru to help find the missing third male lead.
The blond Public Security officer agreed. He asked the crew, “Who was the last person to see the third male lead?”
“It was me,” the blond’s agent stood up and said nervously. “He said he wanted to be alone for a while and told me not to follow him.”
Alone for a while… Amuro pinched his chin in thought, his gaze scanning the area around the set.
“That small door,” he said. “What’s it for?”
“It’s a storage room for discarded props,” the prop master said, walking towards the small door. “It’s very dusty inside, so we usually don’t open it.”
The prop master grabbed the doorknob and pushed inward. “…What’s going on? It’s stuck?”
He put more force into it, slamming his shoulder against the door. With a loud bang, the door panel slammed against the wall.
The prop master wiped the sweat from his forehead. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of an ominous red.
Inside the door, the missing third male lead was lying on the ground. There were obvious bloodstains on the floor.
The sound of the door being slammed open brought him back to consciousness a little. The blond slowly came to.
“Someone… someone attacked me…”
He forced himself to speak, but fainted before he could finish his sentence, completely unconscious.
“He’s not dead yet!” Director Kawamura reacted quickly. “Call an ambulance!”
“No one is to leave until the police arrive.”
Amuro Tooru said calmly. He squatted down to check the victim’s injuries.
“The victim stated that someone attacked him before he fainted,” the blond Public Security officer inquired.
“On this set, who did the third male lead have a conflict with?”
One by one, gazes automatically turned, like sunflowers following the light, all focusing on one person.
Under the watchful eyes of everyone, the dark-haired girl stood by the Café Poirot food container, holding the sandwich that belonged to the third male lead, having just taken a bite.