Chapter 523: The Unique Hidden Quest Chain Begins

“I’m up first.”

Glenn Powell glanced at Li Wei, gave the others a smile, and then walked toward the audition area.

“Good luck.”

“Break a leg.”

Regé-Jean Page and Tom Blyth offered words of encouragement, but the way they craned their necks to watch him go suggested they were thinking the exact opposite.

As soon as Glenn Powell stepped into the lit area, the gazes of several dozen people across from him fell on him in unison.

The camera’s red light was on. A few reporters had already taken out their phones to record, and long-focus lenses adjusted to zero in on his face.

The whole spectacle made Glenn Powell, who had always been a second or third-tier actor, nervous.

His lips moved, but no sound came out.

He froze on the spot.

His left hand gripped the seam of his pants, then relaxed, then clenched again.

“Glenn?” the casting director prompted. “We’ve started.”

“Uh, right, sorry,” Glenn said with a dry laugh. “I’m ready.”

The assistant director reading lines with him had already delivered the first one.

A cold sweat broke out on Glenn Powell.

He’d forgotten his line.

His mouth opened and closed. He quickly pulled a folded script from behind his back, scanned it rapidly, and only then began the scene.

From behind the partition, Li Wei could see the director up front, Guillermo Del Toro, lean back in his chair and let out a soft sigh.

In less than ten minutes—a good deal shorter than the expected fifteen—Glenn Powell came out.

As he walked back to the waiting area, the expression on his face looked like he had just survived a disaster.

The irony was that his acting now was far more believable.

He shoved his crumpled, note-filled script into a staff member’s arms and slumped into a corner, looking utterly dejected.

It seemed he was in no mood to chat with Page and the others anymore.

“Regé-Jean Page?” A staff member walked over.

When Page stood up, he was clearly far more composed than Glenn had been. He straightened his collar and walked over with a steady gait.

Li Wei and the others looked up.

Page’s performance was better than Glenn’s, but it was still too performative.

And perhaps because his last role was in *The Duke*, his performance still carried a certain aristocratic and gentlemanly air, which made Del Toro frown.

Li Wei could clearly hear him complaining to the casting director. His voice was very low, but Li Wei’s hearing was too sharp to miss it.

“…Is this the best we can find?” Del Toro said.

“This isn’t the era when you filmed *Pacific Rim* anymore,” the casting director whispered. “Actors’ fees have skyrocketed. For a 10 million USD salary, this is what you get.”

“Just look at Depp,” Del Toro sighed.

Fifteen minutes later, Page came out.

His expression was pretty good; he seemed satisfied with his own performance.

But Li Wei noticed that after Page left, Del Toro and the casting director quietly shook their heads.

Tom Blyth was the third one to go up.

This actor from the United Kingdom clearly hadn’t broken free from his usual style. From head to toe, he exuded a theatricality born from long-term classical training.

The moment he opened his mouth, it was pure Shakespeare.

His delivery was full of theatrical intonation, making the old director rub his face in exasperation.

And when Tom Blyth saw Del Toro’s expression, even if he were a complete fool, he would have known he’d taken the wrong approach.

But he had already started, so he had no choice but to bite the bullet and continue reciting his lines in that theatrical tone.

The reporters’ cameras clearly recorded the entire scene.

When Tom Blyth returned looking like his world had ended, the waiting area fell silent.

A staff member came over.

“It’s your turn, Mr. Li Wei,” he said.

Li Wei stood up. In that instant, Glenn, Regé-Jean Page, and the newly-returned Tom Blyth all locked their eyes on him.

Li Wei pushed open the door and walked into the audition area.

But before he could even begin, the buzzing chatter of the reporters died down, replaced by a flurry of camera shutters.

After all, at least 90% of the reporters present today were here for the gimmick: ‘The First Quarterback in History to Brave Hollywood.’

They had already drafted their headlines and had a preconceived outcome in mind. Now they were just waiting for it to be confirmed so they could go back and file their stories.

The moment Del Toro saw Li Wei take the stage, he gave him a slight nod.

Li Wei, in turn, offered him a smile. And that smile alone made Director Del Toro frown and sit up straight.

‘Something feels off,’ he thought.

The casting director pointed to five envelopes on the table. “Mr. Li Wei, please pick one.”

Li Wei casually picked up the one on the far right, tore it open, and glanced at it.

Scene 3: Village ruins. Garrison arrives. Young soldier reports.

The assistant director leisurely flipped to the corresponding page, cleared his throat, and read the first line:

“Soldier! Where is your captain? What happened here?!”

“They’re all dead.”

The assistant director froze for a moment, then quickly looked down at the script:

“All dead? What happened? Speak clearly.”

“Everyone,” Li Wei’s gaze moved slowly. “My mother, Sam the blacksmith, Mrs. Virgin from the mill, little Jimmy who was just born next door…” Li Wei paused. “When I came back, there was nothing left but smoke.”

Guillermo Del Toro’s mouth fell open unconsciously.

His body went from sitting upright to leaning forward involuntarily.