"Martin, how did you get here so early?"
Elizabeth cried out in surprise and threw herself into his arms. Martin caught her and lifted her high into the air.
This had been her favorite thing to do with Martin when she was little.
Of course, now she had a new favorite.
"Hahaha…"
Elizabeth's laughter rang out.
Not far away, Penny had been about to come greet Martin.
But when she saw the scene before her, she tactfully stepped back—and even blocked other members of the film crew who were eager to get a closer look at Martin himself.
Seeing no one else around, Elizabeth quickly pressed her lips to Martin's in a soft, lingering kiss.
Martin barely had time to savor it when Elizabeth pulled back, giggling mischievously. "No funny business, okay? Hehe. So where are you staying?"
"Uh… I haven't booked a room yet."
"Then just stay at our inn. The room next to mine is still empty."
"OK. I'll have Gordon book it."
Martin play along.
"Let's go. We should head out, or everyone else might start getting the wrong idea."
The girl tugged Martin out of the room.
Martin sighed inwardly. That little girl from back then had really grown up—her thoughts too.
Of course, he hadn't come empty-handed. Every member of the film crew received a small gift from him.
The mood immediately became festive.
A few of the younger actresses came over to take pictures with Martin.
Among them were several beautiful girls. During the photos, they deliberately leaned against Martin, which made Elizabeth's lips curl in displeasure.
"All right, next up we're shooting the cheerleader training scene. Let's head to the field," Penny announced.
Smart and perceptive as always, Penny skillfully shooed the girls away from Martin's side, instantly earning Elizabeth's favor.
Martin followed the crew to the training grounds nearby.
At that moment, some students from Takacs High School were supposed to be having PE class. A few boys whistled provocatively in the direction of the film crew.
Nathaniel looked over.
From afar, he spotted Martin—like a crane among chickens—and sneered internally: A big-shot celebrity? Hah. Let's see if you're still smiling in a bit.
...
"Broly, when you shoot, include those students on the field in your shots—just blur them a little," Penny instructed.
"Elizabeth, when you're dancing later, keep your expression serious. Your cheer squad just lost a competition."
"Justin, you…"
Penny had spent over a decade grinding through the indie film scene. Her experience was vast—maybe she couldn't handle a blockbuster crew, but this modest film team was well within her grasp.
Meanwhile, on the training field—
"Nathaniel, you idiot, get out of the way!"
A burly Black student slammed into Nathaniel, knocking him to the ground. He stood up, cursing loudly. A few students watching nearby laughed mockingly—some Black, some white.
"Aww, poor little Bambi. You should go home to your mommy."
"Hahaha, look at his face! He looks pissed."
"Oh yeah? What are you gonna do, hit me?" the Black student—Johnny—taunted.
The PE teacher was standing nearby but made no move to intervene. This was normal in American public high schools—students were expected to handle student affairs.
Besides, most PE teachers in the U.S. were former jocks themselves.
They often sided with the bullies.
All in the name of "building resilience."
"Johnny!" Nathaniel stood up with a strange smile on his face, staring at the Black student.
Johnny felt a shiver run down his spine under that gaze. Embarrassed, he shoved Nathaniel again and snapped, "Fuck off, you little yellow pig. I don't like your smile. I don't ever wanna see it again."
But this time, Nathaniel sprang to his feet faster than expected. His hand slid to his waistband, and his smile widened.
"Oh yeah? Well, I don't think you'll be seeing anything ever again."
With that, he drew a pistol from behind his back and shot Johnny square in the chest.
"Aah! He's got a gun!"
"Help! Help!"
"Shit! Nathaniel's snapped! Run!"
The first to bolt was the PE teacher.
The students froze for a second, then screamed and scattered.
Nathaniel walked over to the twitching body of Johnny and fired again into his head, muttering:
"Let's make it more fun, Nathaniel."
Then he chased after a few other students who had bullied him.
"Hey Miká, why are you running? Little Bambi's coming for you!"
"No, no, please! Don't come any closer—I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"
Miká was a burly white student, close friends with Johnny.
In his panic, he tripped and fell, scrambling backward with hands and feet, desperately trying to get away from the demon in front of him.
He had never imagined that someone he once bullied at will could unleash such terrifying energy.
He was so scared, he wet himself.
No—he already wet himself.
"Please, don't kill me! I'm sorry! Really, I mean it!"
"Too late."
Nathaniel calmly shot him twice in the chest.
Miká collapsed in a pool of blood.
"What's going on over there?"
The chaos on the field reached the crew, who had been filming nearby.
Two staffers looked toward the commotion.
Just in time to see Nathaniel shoot someone in cold blood.
Screams erupted.
The set plunged into chaos.
Everyone fled in all directions.
The PE teacher, already long gone, had made it to the school building and triggered the fire alarm.
The shrill wail of sirens filled the air, plunging the campus into complete disorder.
Meanwhile, Nathaniel claimed another victim.
This time it was Turner—a white student who had also bullied him.
After killing three school tyrants, Nathaniel had planned to head into the school and take down a few more people to "settle the score."
But then, for some reason, a graceful figure surfaced in his mind.
"Go see her."
A voice said.
"No, no, no. She's a celebrity. I'm a murderer. She won't even look at me!"
Another voice in his head protested.
"So what? I've got a gun!"
Nathaniel looked down at the pistol in his hand and smiled.
So this was what it felt like to dominate others with force. No wonder Johnny and Miká enjoyed it so much.
Heh… I like it too.
Nathaniel took off running—toward the escaping film crew.
"He's coming this way!"
"Oh God, why is this happening?"
"Mommy! Mommy!"
"I wanna go home!"
Several young actresses broke down in tears.
Amid the fleeing crowd, Martin let out a quiet sigh and looked at Nathaniel's figure, thinking:
Was that really necessary? You should've just gone after the ones who wronged you. Why drag the film crew into this?
He had already noticed the bullying earlier and had even seen the pistol tucked in Nathaniel's waistband. But he hadn't said anything.
That brooding, oppressed look in the boy's eyes said it all—he had suffered deeply.
Martin hadn't wanted to interfere. He didn't feel the need.
It had nothing to do with me.
But now it was different.
Now the kid was coming after them.
And that—Martin couldn't allow.