Just this alone was enough to make all the hosts that Eric had guided change their wishes in the latter half of their missions.

Eric pursued work efficiency, half because he wanted to send the hosts home as soon as possible, but so far, he hadn’t succeeded even once.

—They all, without exception, chose to stay in a certain mission world and let their original bodies die.

The reason he urged Little Ford to act quickly was also because he was afraid that if he lingered too long in the mission world, he would forget where he came from.

These days, Eric had read quite a bit of information about Little Ford, and in the movies, he had also seen Little Ford's true self.

He was even more stunning than the system had imagined.

His gaze was calm, and there was always a hint of exhaustion on his face, the kind that comes after desires have been satisfied. His thick, shoulder-length black hair was simply tied back, making his neck look long and slender. He was lean and wiry, with delicate bones, but he lacked neither a defined waist nor muscle.

Even when playing a village boy, he naturally exuded a noble air that set him apart from others, perfectly bringing to life that proud yet tragically fated youth.

Unlike his rather aristocratic appearance, Little Ford's background was shockingly ordinary.

His father was a toothbrush factory worker, his mother a laborer in a local food workshop, and he inherited a small, shabby apartment in an old tube-shaped building. He didn’t get along well with his parents. After entering the industry, he didn’t have any particularly close friends, and had zero romantic experience. However, he was quite favored by many industry seniors and big names, especially the renowned screenwriter Gavin Sun.

Taking all the information and data into account, Eric believed that, for Little Ford, his career was probably the most important and most cherished thing in his original world.

So, he hinted to Little Ford, “You were quite successful in your original world. It would be a real shame if you didn’t go back.”

Unexpectedly, Little Ford said, “It’s not a shame.”

“I want to go back. Because besides me, no one else will visit his grave.”

System: “……”

He thought of the Beimang Cemetery, and then of the “Ian Lowe” that Little Ford had mentioned in front of Brian Young, lost in thought.

“Is Ian Lowe your friend?”

Little Ford didn’t answer, reaching for the nightstand.

There lay the sleeping pills he had bought today.

This week, he couldn’t get in touch with Brian Young, so he couldn’t raise his favorability much. He didn’t want to push things with just barely passing favorability.

The key event hadn’t been triggered yet. If the favorability dropped too low, who knew what unexpected changes might occur. So he decided to save resources and, just like in the real world, use medication instead of hypnosis cards.

He broke off a pill, thought for a moment, then took another, swallowing them both dry.

After taking the pills, Little Ford finally answered the system’s question: “He’s my best friend.”

…Exactly the same words he’d said to Brian Young.

Eric wanted to ask, is your insomnia related to him? But as the words were about to leave his mouth, he held back.

This wasn’t something a system should worry about. Just as he’d said, one person and one system, there was no need to get too close. In the end, they would have to part ways.

The system decided to be a cold, emotionless system.

He should just urge him to focus more on the mission.

The medicine gradually began to take effect.

After hearing the system’s urging, Little Ford pulled the blanket tighter around himself and lazily yawned, “…To break the deadlock, there are three strategies: the best, the middle, and the worst.”

Eric: “…Hmm?”

Little Ford stretched out one hand and placed it behind his head. “Do you remember what I asked you to do when I first got here?”

Of course Eric remembered, but he still didn’t quite understand Little Ford’s intentions.

He had asked Eric to play through the world line from beginning to end three times, and some parts he’d watched more than three times.

He had asked to immerse himself in Evan Clark’s despair before suicide, and had questioned Eric about several details.

After that, he fiddled with Evan Clark’s phone for a long time.

Little Ford closed his eyes: “…A regret value of 9 after 9 o’clock is his starting price. Take it slow, there’s no rush.”

Chapter 8: The Genius Cannon Fodder’s Counterattack (Part Eight)

Under the effect of the medicine, Little Ford fell asleep and dreamed of what had happened before he came here.

He was an actor, and a pretty successful one. At 26, he had won two international A-list awards, one for Best Actor and one for Best Supporting Actor. By the age of 25, he had already collected all three major domestic film awards.

But the entertainment industry was, after all, a circle.

The top photographer in the industry, Nathan Lane, was a close friend of the famous screenwriter Gavin Sun—also known as Old Sun—who had discovered Little Ford.

A niece of Nathan Lane’s acquaintance wanted to put on a stage play, and through a series of connections, they found Little Ford.

First, it was to repay a favor to Old Sun; second, the playhouse was located in his hometown; third, he had a gap in his schedule. So Little Ford agreed to take on the task.

When he arrived at the theater, Little Ford took off his sunglasses. “This theater is still as old as ever, so run-down.”

Little Ford’s mouth had gotten him into plenty of trouble. His assistant had already developed a conditioned reflex and quickly jumped in to smooth things over: “Old but sturdy, old but sturdy.”

Old, indeed. This was the oldest theater in town, serving as both a playhouse and a cinema. When Little Ford’s father was young, he had even brought his mother here to watch movies.