America Tycoon: The Wolf of Showbiz

If Kate lost her mind and accepted Louise's invitation, it wouldn't be one against two, but one against three.

Three women around 30 years old—the mere thought made his old waist creak and groan in despair.

"Shoulders and elbows perpendicular to the ground, keep your torso straight!"

The female trainer Susie squatted on the ground, moving her hand back from Martin's head, instructing him on the key points of planking: "Keep your torso straight, align your head, shoulders, hips, and ankles in the same plane, tighten your abs, pelvic floor muscles, glutes, and there, maintain even breathing."

Martin braced himself on the ground, motionless as if there was a beauty lying beneath him, fragile as glass.

Susie looked at her stopwatch: "Good, keep it up." She encouraged him in her own way: "Hold on five minutes longer with your girlfriend, and you're golden! OK, time's up, withdraw and relax."

Martin stood up to do some light exercises and took the towel Susie handed him to wipe off sweat.

With a moment to spare, Susie asked, "Where's Bruce? Haven't seen him."

Martin replied, "He'll be right here."

While they were talking, Bruce walked in from outside. Susie immediately ditched Martin and went over to greet Bruce: "You're late today."

Bruce replied, "Got held up with some stuff."

He gave Martin a knowing glance, and Martin said, "We're going to take a break, Susie, I'll call you if I need anything."

As Susie watched the two leave, she turned and looked at her well-developed glutes. Were those sexy buttocks no longer charming?

Two men with wills of iron, indifferent to female allure, went to the gym's rest area and found a quiet place to sit.

Bruce opened his bag and handed everything to Martin: "All the bills are in there, including costs for Sacred Valley, renting the villa, and props and costumes—combined, you threw over 60,000 US Dollars into that party."

Martin went through them and said, "Money sure flies when you're spending it."

Bruce replied, "Let's hope for a return on that investment." He summarized briefly, "I've taken care of the wrap-up."

After a break, they dove back into their workout.

Last night, it wasn't just Martin who got stirred up by Wes Craven, Bruce felt it too.

A man in his sixties with such battle strength and output frequency—it was indeed enviable.

What men fear the most is having a young heart but an ageing body, unable to do anything but weakly watch when faced with a heart-stirring girl.

It's easy to become perverse that way.

On Monday morning, while Martin was still deep in sleep, he suddenly heard a knock on the door, thinking it was someone at the diagonally opposite door looking for Jessica. But when he came out of the bedroom, he heard the landlord Antonio's voice.

He opened the door only to see Antonio with a shotgun, standing in front of Bruce's door, and quickly said, "It's me, Martin, one of us, don't shoot!"

Antonio patted his old shotgun, saying, "Don't worry, this is the Friendship Gun; it doesn't shoot friends."

Bruce opened the door, his pistol in hand.

Antonio quickly said, "Don't shoot, it's me! I've got a problem with my gun, you said last time you could fix it."

Bruce nodded and said, "Come in."

Martin followed them into Bruce's apartment.

Bruce carefully inspected the shotgun and went to find his toolbox.

Martin said to the landlord, "You walking around with a gun, be careful not to accidentally shoot someone."

"The Friendship Gun won't misfire," Antonio, burdened with excess fat and finding it difficult to stand, flopped onto the sofa. The sofa springs creaked and groaned, making one wonder if they'd ever bounce back again.

Antonio gestured and said, "Anyone hit by the Friendship Gun is no good person."

Martin gave a thumbs up: "It's truly the Friendship Gun."

Bruce brought his tools over; the shotgun had a broken part and needed a replacement from the store.

Martin had voice acting work to do today and went alone to Warner Bros. Studios to do voice work for "House of Wax". At noon, his agent Thomas called, saying there was an urgent matter.

He immediately rushed to the agency.

Upon seeing Martin, Thomas was quite excited: "Early this morning, a friend from the Science Fiction and Horror Film Academy called me, saying Wes Craven had spoken specially to the judging committee, ensuring you'd be put on the shortlist for Best Young Actor—the nomination list will be officially announced at the end of April."

Martin asked, "What about the award ceremony?"

Thomas replied, "Mid-May; we have an incredible chance of winning!" He took out a fax from the drawer: "It's from the Science Fiction and Horror Film Academy, inviting you as a performing guest. I leveraged Wes Craven's influence to secure it for you."

Martin, reacting quickly, deliberately thrust out his fist: "Thomas Ryan, are we not the golden combination!"

Thomas gulped down that bowl of motivational soup, bumped fists with Martin, and whispered, "We are the golden combination, our development is on a great trajectory, our future is bright!"

"Is the award ceremony going to be live on TV?" Martin asked Thomas after seeing him nod, "What will I perform?"

"Of course, it will be your forte. This is a great opportunity to increase exposure and broaden your fame. We need to carefully design it to attract the most attention," Thomas replied.

Martin decided, "Then I'll perform the Zombie Gatling Dance."

Thomas, recalling that video which made men feel inferior, said, "I think that's possible."

Martin was well aware that aside from the Gatling Dance, his dance skills were amateurish at best; he said, "I need a teacher who is skilled at the zombie dance and can fully integrate the Gatling Dance with the zombie dance. If you can't find anyone suitable, I'll call someone from Atlanta."

Thomas suggested, "Find the original choreographer and dance instructor."

"First, confirm things with the Saturn Awards," Martin, who had the number of Annie, the choreographer from 'House of Beast', said, "I can call her up at any time."

At that moment, a new idea came to him, "In 'Zombie Stripper', I have a group of zombie vampire dancers. When you communicate with them, ask if the dance troupe can come along."

This was a reasonable request. Thomas said, "I'll talk to them."

Martin asked, "Any news on the new job?"

Thomas brought up the information on his computer and printed it directly, "The company just notified me this morning. It's a multi-firm film project, about an arms dealer. Nicolas Cage is confirmed for the lead role, and the director is WMA's Andrew Niccol."

There was no need to mention Cage; Martin asked, "Does the director's name ring a bell?"

Thomas replied, "The screenwriter for 'The Truman Show', he's been nominated for an Oscar for Best Original Screenplay."

Martin remarked, "No wonder it sounds familiar."

Thomas sorted the printed information and added, "The film boasts an investment of 50 million US Dollars. The role you're auditioning for is a supporting part, the brother of the lead."

Martin carefully reviewed the information and easily determined it to be 'Lord of War', a famously well-known film.

He asked, "Is the audition competition fierce?"

Thomas nodded, "I'm not very sure about other companies, but this morning, the agency just recommended you, Mike Vogel, and Joe Anderson to the production team and director. Andrew Niccol is the director as well as the screenwriter and executive producer, so he has the final say in the auditions."

Martin directly asked, "Got any information on the director? Like his preferences or style?"

"He likes good-looking actors with blond or brown hair. His girlfriend is the Canadian model and actress Rachel Roberts," said Thomas, who was well-informed. "He has unique insights, a strong command of the set, and he likes trying new and bold things."

Martin understood it from another perspective: "So, he likes to deal with sexy actors with blond or brown hair, prefers to have absolute control on set, and plays a lot of tricks." reading-here-on-MVLeMpYr

Thomas pondered for a moment and was unable to refute, saying, "One of the reasons I called you was because, after Andrew received the company's recommendations, he wanted to meet each of you three candidates before the audition. This is also part of the audition, even more crucial than the one in two weeks."

Martin searched for Thomas's mirror and inquired, "How do I look now?"

"Very good," Thomas spoke earnestly, "You've got the looks and the physique."

He glanced at the time, "Stay calm, Andrew won't be here until after four o'clock."

Martin waited until four-fifteen when an assistant called Thomas to take the actor up to the small meeting room to meet Andrew Niccol.

Outside the small meeting room, Martin saw that Mike Vogel and his agent Pinto were already there.

Half a minute later, Joe Anderson with his long hair arrived by himself.

Then, Eric Lively, whom he had met before, accompanied by his sister Blake Lively and his agent, also arrived.

In the corridor, four distinct groups formed; the atmosphere wasn't tense enough for a confrontation, but there was no interaction either.

Martin suddenly felt he had forgotten something but couldn't recall what it was at the moment.

The meeting room door opened, and Andrew's assistant came out to call for people. Eric was the first to go in; the door had just closed, and not even half a minute passed before he came out again.

As soon as he left the room, Eric started to complain, "What was that about? He asked if Ernie was my father and then said I wasn't suitable. Does he have a grudge against my dad?"

Blake, although young, had some understanding of the world and quickly pulled Eric aside, "Don't talk nonsense."

"Where am I talking nonsense? Clearly, it's this director..." Eric didn't finish his sentence before Blake pinched him hard on the arm and dragged him away.

The agent hurried after them, trying to soothe.

Mike Vogel was the second to go in and came out two minutes later, shaking his head at his agent.

Pinto asked quietly, "Why?"

Mike Vogel said, "I couldn't accept it; it's as simple as that."

At that moment, the assistant called Martin's name at the door. While passing by Mike Vogel, Martin overheard his words and glanced back.

Mike Vogel also looked at him, their eyes meeting in midair. Vogel suddenly said with a smile, "Buddy, I didn't make it. Good luck to you."

When a competitor suddenly speaks like this, Martin was puzzled. Of course, he wouldn't believe Vogel was genuinely wishing him well.

Looking at the situation at the door, if it weren't for the fact that murder was illegal, Eric's situation aside, the three of them would definitely have drawn knives on each other.