From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

Explosion! A massive, earth-shattering explosion rippled outwards.

It was even more ferocious and frenzied than a simple explosion, because it wasn't just about entertainment; society, politics, media – every field and profession was adding their voice:

"Entertainment to the death." This was a societal problem that had been festering for the past half-century, growing increasingly severe, constantly breaking boundaries and morals, abandoning ethical principles, and violating laws, truly threatening lives. This was no longer just entertainment news.

Undoubtedly, this was another hot topic of discussion for the entire society in 2003.

Things were spiraling completely out of control, a situation no one had anticipated.

In truth, the whole picture was still unclear:

What was the deal with Jason Owen and Sony Columbia? If Harry Percy was the mastermind, why did Jason take the fall? Was there some secret deal between Sony Columbia and Harry? Was Harry able to sneak onto the set because Sony Columbia opened the back door?

A tangled mess.

The possibilities were endless, and precisely because of this, the public's reaction was even more intense. They craved the truth, they craved punishment for the perpetrators, they craved justice, and finally, it all converged into a terrifying wave, crashing down, surging towards Sony Columbia and Harry Percy.

The momentum was immense!

As a top Hollywood production company, Sony Columbia was a massive target, with countless voices demanding an explanation and a response; but conversely, for the common people to shake a behemoth of Sony Columbia's size would be no easy task.

However, Harry Percy was different.

Despite being a small target, just a paparazzi, insignificant in such a conspiracy and chaos, easily swallowed up if one wasn't careful; but also because he was a small target, it meant people could "hurt" him—

Not in the literal sense, but demanding an apology from Harry, demanding severe punishment from the authorities, etc. These actions were achievable, and much simpler.

Thus, just as "Us Weekly" and "Entertainment Weekly" split their forces, the general public all gathered towards Sony Columbia, the obvious target; while reporters and paparazzi all flocked towards Harry, the vulnerable target, hoping to conquer Harry and further dig out the truth.

Moreover, they hadn't forgotten that Lucas Wood's $100,000 reward was still valid.

The hyenas were quietly gathering.

…

Harry Percy thought the past few days had been hell, a living death; but now, he would trade all his possessions for the chance to rewind time, back to twenty-four or forty-eight hours ago, because compared to now, that time was simply paradise.

In the past few days, Harry had no idea what he was agonizing over, purely tormenting himself.

But now, he had to confront the entire world—

He wasn't lying, he sincerely felt like he was fighting the whole world alone.

What was he even thinking back then, assuming he could deceive everyone with a fake name? Looking back, the name Marvin Daniel was even taken from the name of another stupid thief in "Home Alone." If someone could make the same connection as Anson, it shouldn't be difficult to discover him.

What's more, there were hackers.

He didn't even dare turn on a lamp.

Because Harry knew that dozens of paparazzi were lurking around the apartment, monitoring him from every angle and corner.

He was always the one monitoring and stalking others, but he never imagined that he would be monitored and stalked one day. That feeling… was like being thrown into a pot of boiling oil, every inch of skin on his body sizzling, penetrating from the surface to the inside, slowly cooking through.

The slightest disturbance would cause those locusts to swarm up.

Living in constant fear, unable to sleep or rest, unable to relax, that torment made Harry feel like he was about to have a nervous breakdown.

And, even more terrifying, Harry knew what those paparazzi outside were doing—

They were rummaging through his trash, they were looking through his resume, they were looking for loopholes in his apartment, seeing if they could bypass the charge of trespassing and enter the apartment to take photos of him up close.

He was like a wounded and dying little animal in the wilderness, with vultures slowly gathering, circling overhead, perched on the nearby treetops, just waiting for the moment he breathed his last, and then swarming up to devour his corpse.

Harry felt like he couldn't hold on for much longer.

Click.

Opening the refrigerator, the dim blue light spilled out, tearing through the darkness, and Harry's eyes almost couldn't adjust as he scanned the inside with a grimace.

One tomato, half a slice of toast, three eggs, a bottle of mineral water.

That was all.

He was almost out of supplies, and if he continued to stay here, he might not be able to hold on.

Of course, there was a solution: just go out and shop. He wasn't under house arrest; but he understood that this was the opportunity the paparazzi were waiting for. Once he went out, it would be like sharks swarming, and they wouldn't let him go easily without tearing off an arm or half a calf.

It was precisely because Harry understood what he might face that he felt even more terrified at this moment.

Just imagining it made Harry shiver.

Click.

He quickly closed the refrigerator, leaned against the refrigerator door, his knees softened, and he slowly slid down.

Harry was sinking into despair little by little. He didn't know what to do. If he admitted his mistake and begged Anson for forgiveness, could Anson help solve the problem? Was it too late to apologize and repent to Anson now?

He knew that Anson was a devil, but he still provoked him; and not just once, he even became so complacent that he went to the hospital to provoke him, walking right into the trap.

Stupid, utterly stupid.

Harry slowly lay on the ground, wanting to cry but finding his eyes were terribly dry, without a single tear. He couldn't help but hug his knees and curl up, shivering.

He never imagined that he would be reduced to such a state, so what should he do next? When would this craze finally subside?

Rustle, rustle.

A small commotion came from outside the door, but Harry's nerves tightened instantly, like a cat with its fur on end, he suddenly raised his head and looked around, trying to find the source of the sound. Any little movement could make him collapse on the spot.

Who? Or… what?

The next second, knock, knock.

The sound of knocking on the door came, exploding like a thunderclap, and Harry couldn't help but cover his ears, curling up tightly into a ball, trembling violently uncontrollably.

"Harry…"

The devil's call came from outside the door.