Ethan Clark opened his personal information panel for a glance. Right now, he had a dull, plain white title—[Completely Unknown Eighteenth-Tier].

Beneath the title was a line of small text: As a newcomer, you haven’t left any impression on the audience, nor do you have any representative works.

The title will upgrade as your points increase.

The title is directly related to unlocking higher-quality horror films.

This is pretty much the same as the entertainment industry: if an actor isn’t at a certain level, they’re not qualified to participate in higher-end film and television projects.

In the app, the higher the quality of the horror film, the greater the difficulty, and correspondingly, the richer the rewards upon completion.

Secondly, most of the horror films under the app don’t provide scripts; the plot needs to be explored and triggered by the actors themselves.

Although they’re called actors, their main job isn’t acting, but surviving in real horror environments, while also exploring and advancing the plot, striving to fully restore the horror film.

They can even check the app at any time during filming and communicate freely with other actors, making their behavior more like horror game streamers entertaining an audience.

They’re called actors mainly because the app’s various systems are almost identical to those of the entertainment industry.

Finally, at the end of each horror film shoot, the app will rank the actors based on their overall performance and distribute point rewards according to the rankings.

At this moment, the app sent a message.

Ethan Clark opened it.

A few notes regarding the horror film "The Vengeful Spirit in Red"—

1. The maximum duration of this film is 7 days; if you finish exploring early, it can end early.

2. This film is a green card, of shoddy quality. After filming ends, the actor ranked first overall will receive 100 points, with the other actors receiving decreasing amounts in order.

Ethan Clark curled his lips. Boyfriends sure are expensive—10,000 points.

You’d have to come in first in 100 shoddy-quality horror films.

Ethan Clark was looking down at his phone when, out of nowhere, someone bumped right into him. He looked up to see a short, thin young man, so skinny he was almost unrecognizable.

The man’s skin was as pale as paper, his face completely bloodless, with heavy dark circles under his eyes. He looked a bit like a vampire, but without the vampire’s good looks. His features were utterly ordinary, except for a pair of especially bright, lively eyes that brought his whole face to life.

“Ah, sorry, I’m blind and can’t see… people, so I bumped into you!” The man quickly apologized, even giving Ethan Clark a deep, energetic bow.

“……” Ethan Clark hadn’t expected this kind of personality, so he kept his tone as gentle as possible. “It’s fine.”

He thought the man’s way of speaking was a bit odd—there was a subtle pause between “can’t see” and “people,” as if he was saying he couldn’t see people, but could see something else.

Ethan Clark took the initiative to ask, “Are you an actor too?”

The man nodded immediately. “My name is Owen Grant, ‘严’ as in serious, ‘镜’ as in mirror.”

Owen Grant—which sounds just like “eyes” in Chinese, doesn’t it?

Ethan Clark snapped back to himself. “Ethan Clark.”

All the real names are on the cast list, so there’s no point in lying.

Owen Grant was about to enthusiastically chat with Ethan Clark when he suddenly started coughing violently.

Ethan Clark watched as he coughed up blood, his gaze sharpening slightly.

Blind and sickly—either he has an unfulfilled wish he must achieve, or he’s got some special skill up his sleeve. Otherwise, with a body like that, coming here is basically a death sentence.

Ethan Clark understood this well and had no interest in probing further. Out of habit, he just showed polite concern: “Are you okay? The other actors should be over there—I’ll take you.”

“It’s fine, it’s always like this. Sorry if I scared you,” Owen Grant paused, then sincerely said, “You’re really a good person.”

“It’s nothing.”

The two chatted as they walked toward the revolving door.

Just as Caleb Turner was enjoying the praise from the newcomers, he looked up and saw Ethan Clark. He froze for a few seconds, his gaze gradually turning dark and ambiguous.

The young man was slender and tall, his skin a gentle, warm white. A pair of glasses rested on his high nose bridge, his features were refined, and his brows and eyes exuded a gentle, scholarly air.

He was slightly nodding, listening patiently to the creepy-looking man beside him ramble on, with a humble yet perfectly measured posture. He seemed good-tempered and well-mannered, elegant and approachable, without a trace of harshness.

Caleb Turner had met plenty of people.

Someone like this was either pampered and well-educated, naïve about the world, or looked outstanding on the surface but was pitch-black underneath.

Two extremes.

Caleb Turner loved a challenge, and even if it was the latter, he wasn’t afraid.

Besides, when the young man spoke, his Adam’s apple moved slightly in the sunlight—beautiful and sexy. Despite being impeccably dressed, he was subtly alluring. His waist, abdomen, and legs were all in proportions so perfect they were astonishing.

Caleb Turner had specifically asked his agent—he was the only veteran actor in this film, so the person in front of him must be a newcomer he could easily manipulate.

No matter how impressive you are in the real world, it’s useless here. Even if you’re a prince, you have to keep your head down and beg for protection.

This is his turf.

Owen Grant seemed to sense something and glanced in Caleb Turner’s direction, subconsciously tugging at Ethan Clark. “You need to be careful of him.”

Ethan Clark was a bit surprised. “Aren’t you blind…”

Owen Grant realized he’d slipped up and gave an awkward laugh. “Just a feeling.”

Ethan Clark neither agreed nor disagreed.

Owen Grant couldn’t keep up the act, and since he’d be exposed sooner or later, he simply said, “I can sense he has very strong malicious intent toward you.”