"Lena, what happened? You look like you're in a bad mood."
At the headquarters of Aurora Entertainment, Mark had just returned from a visit to Second Dimension Pictures when he saw Lena sitting on a sofa in the corner of the lobby, motionless, her eyes vacant, as if her soul had stepped out for a while and left only a beautiful shell behind.
To be fair, Mark himself was not in the best mood either. He had gone there to audition for the role of Sweet Mask in "One Punch Man." Truthfully, the role he had really wanted was Genos, the male supporting lead, the kind of character who could shine without begging for the camera's attention. But Alex had shut him down with one merciless sentence: "Have you ever seen a disciple look older than his master?"
Mark had no comeback.
As an actor, among people of his generation, his talent was undoubtedly top-tier. No one denied that. The problem was that he had too little experience playing villains, or even morally ambiguous characters. Sweet Mask required a dangerous blend of charm, vanity, distorted justice, and almost elegant cruelty. He was the kind of character who looked righteous at first glance, while deep cracks hid beneath the surface. Mark could act, but he still had not found the rhythm for that kind of polished monstrosity.
Alex had thought about it for a while and, in the end, did not sign him immediately. He only told Mark to go back, study the role more carefully, and audition again after he finished promoting "Death Note."
No privileges. No special treatment. Not even for Mark, who was currently considered by many to be the leading actor of his generation and who carried the prestige of having played Ichigo Kurosaki.
That was why, when he returned to the company and found Lena sitting there like she had been frozen in the middle of an emotional breakdown, Mark could not help walking over.
"Hey?"
Lena jolted as if she had been shocked. Her reaction was so sudden that Mark nearly flinched too.
"Ah… Mark? What is it?"
She lifted her eyes, still somewhat dazed, trying to look normal and failing badly.
"I was about to ask you that. What were you thinking about so deeply?"
"Nothing…"
Lena quickly looked away. She did not have the courage to say that, for the past few days, her mind had kept drifting back to that night in the karaoke lounge, when she and Alex had clung to each other as though the rest of the world had disappeared behind the closed door.
For a moment, silence seemed to itch beneath her skin. Then, before she could measure her own words, Lena blurted out:
"Mark… do you think that if a girl threw herself into Alex's arms, he would accept?"
"What?"
Mark blinked, completely stunned. It took him a few seconds to process the question. Then his expression became strange, almost pained, but his tone was absurdly certain.
"I don't see any reason why he would refuse."
That was not even a personal opinion. The entire entertainment industry, maybe even the whole internet, would probably give the same answer. Since Alex's debut, the speed at which women appeared and disappeared around him had practically become an urban legend with daily media coverage. Saying that he would refuse a girl who willingly offered herself was almost like believing a fugitive tycoon would suddenly return home out of guilt.
"Then why…"
The second question nearly escaped Lena's mouth, but she forced it back down.
What she wanted to ask was: then why did Alex not go all the way that night?
Lena had a reputation for being absentminded, sometimes even naive, but no actress who survived in that industry was truly stupid. The moment she realized how dangerous her own curiosity was, she gave an awkward little laugh, made up some excuse, and practically fled.
Even so, the doubt kept burning.
She simply could not understand why Alex had stepped on the brakes like that. If he had wanted to, Lena did not doubt for even a second that everything would have spun completely out of control inside that private room.
"How embarrassing… What am I even thinking? It almost sounds like I wanted him to…"
She bit her lip, annoyed at herself, and hurried back to her office.
But the more she thought about it, the more uncomfortable she felt. Was the problem her? Was she not attractive enough? Was she, in Alex's eyes, still not tempting enough to make him lose control?
Women were mysterious creatures in that regard. If a man they did not like made a move, it was disgusting. But if the man they desired held back, the first wound opened in their pride.
After locking the office door, Lena stood in front of her desk for a long time, breathing deeply, trying to regain her composure. But the image of Alex refused to leave her alone. The heat of that night still seemed trapped against her skin, at the corner of her mouth, in the space between one memory and the next.
"Why… why did you decide to act like a gentleman only with me, Alex? You bastard…"
Her voice came out low and broken, mixed with a frustration that was less anger than wounded desire.
In the end, Lena still did not understand Alex as well as she thought.
He was not like those useless protagonists from endless stories who went through thousands of chapters preserving some absurd, meaningless purity. Alex had no such hypocrisy. But there was an unspoken rule he followed: before crossing the final line with a woman, he always offered something in return. A role. An opportunity. A real step upward.
In other words, he did not like receiving without giving anything back.
Women in that industry, no matter how beautiful or famous they seemed, were still the more vulnerable side of the bargain. If a man took advantage of that without offering anything in return, then it was not only shameless; it was classless.
Alex had given Lena the scripts for Kikyo and Kurenai, asking her to study them carefully. But he had never said those roles already belonged to her. There was no confirmed promise, no contract, no guarantee.
And precisely because of that, he had not taken from her something he would have no way to compensate for if he ended up choosing someone else.
Boarding the ship and then jumping off without paying the fare would be far too disgraceful.
For that reason, on that night, Alex had only kissed her until her lips were far too sensitive for any excuse. The rest, he held back. Barely, but he held back.
After returning home, he had needed Nadia's help to release all that accumulated tension.
As for how Lena dealt with her own night afterward, well… considering what Emily had once said about single women and their little private preparations, perhaps she had not been completely helpless either.
Meanwhile, the autumn holiday movie season was nearing its end.
And, just as Alex had predicted, even with public opinion betting heavily on the more prestigious names in the circuit, Victor Wolf had carved out a path by force. His patriotic action film pulled in three billion at the box office and left countless people speechless.
Of course, there was no shortage of netizens saying they had basically been dragged into group screenings by companies, schools, or organizations, with little choice in the matter. Even so, none of that could stop the film from becoming the biggest winner of the season.
The curious thing was that, while much of the public thought that number was absurdly inflated, Alex looked at the box office with a slightly strange expression.
To him, that result was actually far too low.
Much lower than what he remembered from his previous life.
Had "Bleach" really had such a strong impact? Even Alex, as someone carrying memories from another world, could not be certain. After all, the success of that patriotic film in the original timeline had already been an almost miraculous combination of timing, social climate, and luck. Everything had lined up in a way that was impossible to replicate precisely.
Even so, Alex felt a small, selfish satisfaction.
If that film had raised the domestic box office record to the absurd level it had reached in his other life, breaking it in the future would have been much more troublesome. Now, with the record still sitting at three billion three hundred million under Stephen Chow's name, Alex had enough confidence to aim for the top without losing sleep.
For Victor Wolf, on the other hand, even without reaching that monstrous achievement from the other reality, the current box office was already an unexpected joy. And he would certainly never say in public that "Bleach" had affected his film's performance.
That would be media suicide.
The internet already criticized him enough for some of his past remarks. If he tried to shift part of the blame onto Alex, he would be swallowed alive.
On the other side, Alex arrived on the island.
The main reason was simple: "Death Note" had been approved for release in the local market. And, no matter how complicated that environment could sometimes be, there was still a cultural and emotional connection that could not be completely ignored. Some consideration had to be given.
The irritating part was that the island had its generous share of eccentric figures.
Fortunately, most of the problem came from the upper layers, from certain media and political circles that loved turning every interview into an ideological trap. The ordinary audience, in general, was normal enough. Because of that, Alex's promotional days there went more smoothly than he had expected.
During an interview on a variety program, the host, speaking with a heavy accent and slightly artificial formality, asked:
"Mr. Alex, are you confident in this film's box office here on the island?"
Confident my ass, Alex thought. With a market whose historical record barely passed one hundred and twenty million, if not for the symbolic importance, I would not even have come.
Outwardly, however, his smile remained flawless.
"I believe that if we don't break the local box office record, it won't count as a success."
The entire studio erupted into murmurs. No one could tell whether they were real audience members or hired extras, but the reaction served its purpose.
The program's staff, unaccustomed to the weight of someone of Alex's level, finally felt firsthand the pressure exerted by the man who dominated the domestic audiovisual industry.
Was he serious?
That much confidence?
Because he had seen far too many bizarre news stories from the local media, Alex was already prepared for absurd questions. Something like: "If you fail, does that prove your ability is limited?" or "If the movie does not succeed here, does it mean mainland directors are inferior to our local directors?"
After all, trying to elevate local celebrities by stepping on outsiders was a classic trick used by that kind of media. If they could use Sosuke Aizen, who was currently at his absolute peak, as a stepping stone to boost some local name, the level of discussion would explode.
Then they would only need to turn the controversy into traffic, sell interviews, cut videos, cross back into the main market, and profit from the chaos. A perfect cycle.
Unfortunately for them, that program did not seem to have the courage.
Or perhaps they had heard enough stories about Alex's temper.
Within the industry, he was famous for never forgetting an offense. Jay, when he got angry, would at most write a song mocking reporters. Alex, if he wanted to, could make someone disappear from the market right in front of the cameras.
And no one thought he could not do it. In the audiovisual world, his influence was already heavy enough to tilt entire tables. Even in the film industry, where the powers were older and more complex, most people still had to show him some respect.
Who in their right mind would offend the hottest star of the moment, one with international appeal, just to defend some third-rate local artist?
After leaving the program, Clara, the only actress accompanying Alex on this stage of the promotion, walked beside him with shining eyes.
"Alex, I heard a lot of celebrities are coming to our premiere here. Some of them were part of my childhood."
This time, Alex had only brought Clara with him for the island roadshow. In "Death Note," she played his younger sister, a girl destroyed after discovering that her own brother was Kira and that, in the end, he had been killed by their own father.
Now, Clara was already considered a first-line actress, or at least someone with one foot firmly on that threshold. The role of Rukia alone was enough to crush ninety-nine percent of celebrities in the industry in popularity. During the program, when she appeared on stage, the audience's screams were almost as loud as the ones Alex had received.
"Like them? Don't bother," Alex said bluntly. "There are a lot of people in that crowd whose values are crooked. At the premiere, keep your distance from them."
"Okay…"
After warning his little protégé, Alex received a message on his phone.
It was from Jay.
"Didn't you say you wanted me for a movie? Why haven't you followed up?"
Alex slapped his forehead.
Great. He had completely forgotten about that.
Before he could reply, Jay sent another message:
"I'll attend your premiere on the island in two days. We'll talk then."
Alex raised an eyebrow, thinking that this man had delayed his new album for who knew how many years, yet somehow remained more interested in movies than music.
Since the real goal of "Death Note" was to take money from overseas audiences, the release of its second half had mainly been planned around Christmas, the West's biggest commercial season.
Even so, Alex was keeping an eye on the domestic films scheduled for the New Year period.
There was the new crime thriller starring two heavyweight veterans. There was a romantic comedy directed by a famous actor who had reinvented himself as a filmmaker. There was a youth drama pushed by a legendary director, a young actress being promoted with unusual force, and an idol with enormous traffic. There was also an urban New Year film led by a commercially reliable actress.
Alex looked at the list for a few seconds and lost interest.
Unless something emerged at the level of a family comedy capable of becoming a national phenomenon, or another patriotic epic with enough social momentum to drag crowds into theaters, he truly did not have much to fear.
At most, it meant another three or four billion in box office revenue would fail to fall into his hands.
And, for some reason, that imaginary loss bothered him more than any provocation from the media.
___________________________________________________________________________________
Additionally, more chapters exclusive content are available on Patreon: https://patreon.com/ImmortalEmperor?utm_medium=unknown&utm_source=join_link&utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator&utm_content=copyLink
- CHRONICLES OF THE ICE SOVEREIGN
-PLAYING ANIME LEGENDS
-THE OTHER WORLD'S ANIMATOR
Join now and help shape the future of the story while enjoying special rewards!