From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

"Hey, Kevin."

The single word, like pulling a trigger, gently plucked at the string in his mind, a shiver instantly shooting from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.

Awakening a nightmare.

Instinctively, Harry Percy wanted to flee.

However, his feet were unable to move, his remaining sanity firmly grasping at a lifeline, and reflexively, Harry bit down hard on his teeth, shouting out, "I'm not Kevin, Harry Harry Harry, my name is Harry."

His knees were trembling, his stomach churning, hot and cold flashes, the whole world spinning, Harry felt like he was plummeting vertically from a hundred thousand meters—

Only to suddenly realize, there was no parachute.

Like Lucifer himself.

The figure greeted him with a deep, magnetic voice.

"Hey, we finally meet. Harry. Percy."

The voice, somewhat familiar?

Harry couldn't help but shudder, the memories deep in his mind instantly awakening.

"It's you!"

"It was you who called me the other day, right? I told you, I don't know anything! I don't know who caused the accident!"

"Why are you still bothering me?"

Lucas raised an eyebrow slightly, revealing an interested look, "I never told you that we suspected paparazzi caused the accident, I was just asking if anyone was peddling photos of Spider-Man's suit."

After talking with Anson, Lucas found the contact information for Harry Percy, the founder of TMZ—

After all, it was brazenly hanging on the website, requiring no effort.

Dialing the phone, Lucas inquired and conversed for a while, without obtaining any useful information; but after hanging up the phone, Lucas faintly sensed a trace of strangeness.

That Harry Percy denied it too readily, without even a hint of information; and didn't seize the opportunity to probe for information like a normal paparazzi, as if trying his best to draw a line, not wanting to have anything to do with Anson's affairs.

This was not normal.

Although unable to be one hundred percent certain, Lucas believed that Harry should be holding back something.

So, after Lucas and Anson discussed it, they prepared to launch a counterattack.

A trick to lure the snake out of its hole, to see what kind of monsters and demons it could attract.

However, there were a large number of paparazzi, each with their own ulterior motives, and they couldn't predict who would come to the door first, only hoping to find more clues by following the vine.

Never would they have thought that they would catch a big fish.

All eyes were focused on Harry, something Harry never expected, he seemed to be standing under a spotlight, being pushed to the very center.

Things shouldn't be like this.

Harry panicked—

Because of Lucas's words, but more importantly because of Anson.

Harry firmly believed that "Anson PTSD" was a real symptom, and even without words, a glimpse of his face could be terrifying.

"Think."

Harry tried to force a smile, concealing his panic, "There's something called a brain, it's really very useful, I hope you guys have one, please think with your brains, okay?"

Lucas gently raised his chin, "Thinking, can you share how you think? Also, if you have nothing to do with the whole thing, and don't want to be involved in the slightest, what the hell are you thinking, coming to the hospital in person, showing up here in a Halloween costume?"

"Why don't you share your inner journey."

Harry: Crap.

Anson spoke, "Luca, there's no need to be so aggressive, your reputation is bad enough, if you continue, the rose garden in the backyard won't have enough fertilizer, you wouldn't want us to dump garbage haphazardly at the docks."

Lucas, "I'm just trying to be friendly, can't you see I'm trying to solve the problem through conversation? I'm not the barbarian I used to be anymore."

Back and forth, Harry was dizzy and completely unable to keep up with the Wood brothers' thoughts.

Then, without warning, Anson threw the topic back to Harry, "So, it should be much better today, at least not like last time, sneaking around hiding in a pile of boxes, suffocating with sweat inside and out."

Harry's heart shrank, "No, I'd rather suffer in the box…"

The words blurted out, but he braked urgently, exposing himself in a clumsy attempt to deny it, Harry felt dizzy for a moment, unable to believe himself, breathless, staring blankly at Anson in front of him.

But as if seeing Death himself.

Snap.

Suddenly, Lucas grabbed the armrest of the chair with both hands, impulsively preparing to stand up, the suppressed murderous aura instantly leaking out, spreading throughout the ward, instantly choking Harry's throat.

"No…"

"No no no, I mean last time, last time hiding in the closet of the trailer to ambush.

Harry stammered incoherently, realizing that he might have let something slip, at that moment, he truly felt his life was in danger.

Anson gently raised his chin, "Once bitten, twice shy, you should be much more skilled this time, no wonder we didn't notice, if you hadn't said it, I would have almost forgotten there was a last time."

"Also, last time I was completely unharmed, naturally I have no memory;正好, we'll switch positions, you remember last time, I'll remember this time, right?"

Harry swallowed a mouthful of saliva, he had to deny it now, keep denying it to the end, "What are you talking about, I don't understand."

Anyway, Anson has no evidence, right?

Anson indeed has no evidence, and no witnesses—

Sean Graham can't help either.

Indeed, Sean subconsciously captured the scene, a man wearing a camouflage T-shirt breaking through the fortress of stacked cardboard boxes, turning and leaving in the chaos.

Sean remembers the camera hanging around his neck, and also remembers him wearing a black baseball cap, but he couldn't see the facial features clearly, let alone identify him.

Sean's description reminded Anson of the catering staff member who cleared the tableware and kitchen waste; but the point is that Anson himself didn't see clearly either, unable to recall the person's appearance, unable to help.

Edgar is investigating along the catering car line, but the hope is slim:

Work teams like catering cars have a high turnover of personnel, even if they recall that afternoon, it is estimated that it will be difficult to match the number.

In any case, Edgar will investigate and see; and Anson here has a guess:

That criminal suspect is now in front of him.

Anson revealed a shallow smile, "Oh, isn't it you? The paparazzi in the crew that day, I was still sighing, we're really destined, it seems we're both tied to Peter Parker."

Harry looked terrified, "Are you saying, you suspect I was on set that day?"

This time, Harry was careful, not exposing himself again.

Anson, "Yes. That's right. Not only were you on the scene, but you forgot to turn off the flash when taking pictures, which ultimately led to a series of accidents."

Harry, "Preposterous!"

Taking a deep breath, "Preposterous! That's so funny!"

Anson, "I didn't laugh, Lucas didn't laugh either, I don't understand what's so funny here, you're avoiding the question."

The air froze into ice.