“There are even celebrities here, don’t worry. Maybe the police will arrive soon.”

“That’s true... With so many people, it’s better to just sit here and wait for rescue.”

“Everyone, don’t panic. There are so many of us, we’ll be fine!”

For a moment, those who had originally wanted to go upstairs following the mechanical voice’s instructions all stopped in their tracks, looking hesitant.

The stairway was completely blocked. More and more people started speaking up, spontaneously forming a human wall in front of the stairs, persuading everyone not to go up.

After a long standoff, the mechanical voice sounded again.

This time, the voice did not repeat three times.

【Five minutes left until assembly time】

The boy who had been silently following behind them suddenly remembered the phrase, “If you don’t want to die, you’d better follow the voice’s instructions.”

He gritted his teeth and whispered, “Mr. Bennett, I’m sorry,” then suddenly dashed forward, breaking through the human wall and sprinting upstairs.

Charles Bennett couldn’t dodge in time and was knocked aside.

He rubbed his shoulder and sneered, “Someone actually believes that pretty boy’s nonsense.”

“A high schooler—what does he know about Mr. Bennett’s strength?” The lackey fawned, massaging his shoulders: “Mr. Bennett, have a seat. Don’t get angry over a minor, it’s not worth it.”

Already on the third floor, Henry Clark lowered his gaze, glancing indifferently at the gap between the stairs.

He had already given all the warnings he could—he’d done his duty. As for what they chose, that was their business.

Now... he had more pressing matters.

The white-haired young man lifted his head, flexing his numb, nearly senseless hands inside his sleeves. Together with the people gathering from all directions, he stepped onto the soft red carpet and slowly walked into the studio hall.

Author’s note: Sneaking in a new story before the end of October! Love you all!

This is an infinite flow story, just with a talent show shell. Many of the modes are different, and the competition system is a slightly modified version of PD101.

POV (Point of View) writing style—like A Song of Ice and Fire. There’s no fixed protagonist and no omniscient perspective, only what the characters see and hear, no inner thoughts.

If you’re not familiar, it’s fine! Just know that the original text doesn’t have a main character or protagonist halo.

Chapter 2

The “studio hall” mentioned by the mechanical voice was a bright and luxurious hall.

Gorgeously bizarre red-gold chandeliers hung from the high domed ceiling, the walls adorned with exquisite bas-relief paintings, vivid and lifelike. Platinum candlesticks stood in the corners, flames flickering and casting shifting shadows.

The hall was arranged in a tiered fashion, with nine steps in total. The lower the step, the more spacious it became—the widest level could even fit a large soccer field. Each step was covered with a different colored carpet and decorated with unique ornaments.

Of course, the most eye-catching feature was the ten thrones on the topmost tier.

The thrones’ bases were made of crystal, extravagantly luxurious, with velvet cushions and drinks and fruit placed beside them, blatantly displaying the strict hierarchy.

The only thing all the tiers had in common was that they all faced a floating three-dimensional projection in midair.

Suspended on the projection were the words “Thriller Trainee”.

When you looked up, these words appeared as a 3D projection, cast onto the lens of everyone’s eyes. No matter how big the hall was, everyone could see it clearly without effort. Like the voice that appeared out of nowhere and needed no medium to transmit, it was clearly beyond the reach of current science.

People gathered from all the stairways, streaming into the center of the studio hall.

The expressions on their faces were varied, but most were anxious and uneasy, the noise incessant.

It was impossible to gauge the size of the hall with the naked eye—it seemed endless, with a sea of heads as far as one could see.

Henry Clark, however, stood calmly in place, flexing his fingers and openly accepting the stares from all directions.

The original cannon fodder’s beauty needed no further mention. Due to congenital lack of pigment, he had the appearance of a mild albino—like this naturally white hair. Everywhere he went, as long as there were people, he could effortlessly attract a wave of attention.

Henry Clark felt it was a bit of a pity.

If this were just an ordinary entertainment industry talent show novel, with this face alone, he’d never lack for an audience.

Suddenly, the crowd grew restless, screams erupting one after another.

They had discovered something that had appeared on their chests out of thin air.

“What’s going on?!”

Amid the commotion, Henry Clark quietly lowered his head and, unsurprised, saw the blue letters that had appeared on his chest.

Thriller Trainee. E-rank.

The original host was just a pretty face, with barely any muscle on his body—a total weakling. An E-rank was perfectly reasonable, a flawless operation.

If everything before could be explained away, this badge that appeared out of nowhere could not.

The crowd began to stir. But not everyone reacted this way.

At least, the group by the wall did not.

Their faces all wore the same calm and indifference.