"Alright, let me think." He was pondering what to perform when a figure drifted in through the window—a corpse-like face, holding chains, with "One Look, Born Rich" written on his tall hat. It was humanity's good friend, Old White.

"Urgent business! Come, come, come!" Old White's gaze locked onto Ashley Grant as he spoke.

Damn.

Ashley Grant was a bit anxious, because he noticed Old White had even started taking out his official documents, but he couldn't stop him...

The important thing right now was that the office was so big—if Old White took him away, his soul would leave his body, and his body would collapse again. A body without a soul was as good as dead. How was he supposed to explain that to the people around him? Even if they thought he had some strange illness, that wouldn't be good, right?

No, he definitely had to make things clear with Old White in the future—he couldn't just summon him at will. He wasn't like those full-time spirit-walkers who could leave whenever they wanted. Not only did he have a regular job, he also had to pretend he couldn't see ghosts in the world of the living!

Ashley Grant's mind raced, and he hurriedly said to Matthew King, "Director, let me show you how to die on the spot."

Matthew King: "...Huh??"

Before he could react, the young man was already clutching his chest, face twisted in pain, collapsing to the ground, motionless.

Matthew King: "..."

Matthew King was stunned, then after a moment couldn't help but burst out laughing, "Hahahaha!"

Die on the spot? Young people these days, really know how to take the unconventional route just to leave an impression on the director.

As he laughed, the others couldn't help but laugh as well. For a moment, the office was filled with a cheerful atmosphere.

But the man in the baseball cap suddenly said, "That was a good performance."

"Hmm?" Matthew King listened, looked carefully, and immediately straightened his expression. Indeed, Ashley Grant wasn't just making a joke. "Never say again that playing a corpse takes no skill—look at him, even his chest barely moves."

Everyone stared at him, but couldn't find a single flaw.

Whenever a death scene appears in film or TV, there are always some viewers who like to watch closely and point out where the "corpse" is breathing, or their eyelids are moving. Every time, they want to complain: the actors are already trying their best, you can't expect them to actually die, right? How could they not breathe?

But this guy—his acting was so real, unbelievably so, even his lips seemed to have turned pale.

Maomao couldn't help but reach out and touch Ashley Grant's hand, then checked again to confirm, and stammered in a trembling voice, "Director King, wh-why does he feel... cold..."

Everyone: "???"

Author's note: The gong hasn't appeared yet! It's definitely not Old White! How could the gong pick his nose!

Chapter 4: Is This What It Means to Be an Actor?

Ashley Grant felt his soul being pulled out. Taking advantage of the fact that no one had noticed he wasn't breathing yet, he immediately protested to Old White, "I'm still at work, can you not just yank my soul out whenever you feel like it?"

Traditionally, spirit-walkers would just collapse when it was time, but Ashley Grant felt there was definitely room for improvement—the underworld was just too overbearing.

Old White: "It's urgent."

Ashley Grant: "What urgent business?"

Old White: "Give me some money to spend."

Ashley Grant: "..."

...He almost died of anger. If he'd just added a "please," it wouldn't sound so much like an unfilial son.

Old White righteously said, "You still haven't paid me the service fee we agreed on last time. The money you gave me before is all spent."

That much money, and it's all gone? Ashley Grant didn't know exactly what the purchasing power of underworld ingots was these days, but he knew that ordinary families would burn about four stacks of paper money for the deceased at a time.

The ingots he folded were even better quality—no matter how you calculated it, Old White was spending way too fast.

Thinking of all the family dramas he'd acted in, Ashley Grant couldn't help but say, "Do you think I'm an ATM?"

Old White: "More like a money-printing machine."

Ashley Grant: "..."

He said speechlessly, "Alright, that's enough. You can wait until I finish work here and come back with me to get the money."

These past two days, Ashley Grant had been preparing for auditions while folding ingots for David Miller and Old White. He'd even made some handmade incense.

A look of bliss appeared on Old White's corpse-like face, making him look especially creepy.

Ashley Grant glanced at the already somewhat chaotic crew. "Alright, let's talk about this later, I'm in a hurry!"

...

"How could this happen? No breathing, really no breathing!"

"Don't move him, I'm calling emergency services!"

"Does he really not need CPR? I learned a bit."

Ashley Grant slowly opened his eyes and (deliberately) said in a strong voice, "I'm fine, no need to call an ambulance."

Seeing him wake up, everyone relaxed, even feeling grateful to the heavens. How did fainting turn into a stage performance?

That moment without breath had scared them half to death—they were terrified something had happened.

How could it be... he said he was dying, and he really went cold.

"Are you sure you're okay? Maybe you should go to the hospital? You just lost consciousness all of a sudden, and your voice sounds weird," Matthew King said worriedly. If Ashley Grant's health wasn't good, no matter how good his acting was, he wouldn't dare use him—the crew already worked at high intensity.

He'd overdone it a bit just now. Ashley Grant adjusted his voice and said, "What could be wrong? Didn't I say I was going to perform dying just now?"