An Insider's Take: A Self-Destructing Truck!

In the entertainment industry of a parallel universe, without a system, what should I do?

Crossing over or possessing memories from another version of yourself in another universe was not nearly as omnipotent as people imagined.

Put it this way: If all you handsome guys in front of your phones were thrown over there, how many songs could you plagiarize?

If you lacked the ability, those other memories might help a little in certain areas. But if you really wanted to cheat your way through life, honestly, it would be faster to just lie down and go to sleep.

A good-for-nothing was still a good-for-nothing after transmigrating.

I won't name names. Sweating bullets yet?

Fortunately, Bai Youlou was a genius!

A literary hooligan wasn't so easy to become. Although the hooligan part was the main thing, without any ability, you were just a hooligan.

If your cultural level dropped a little further, you could even devolve into a vagrant.

In his previous life, he had managed pretty well in the entertainment industry entirely through genuine skill.

The only thing he might have lacked was creativity. That was also the fundamental reason he had only done "pretty well."

Perhaps it could be said that Bai Youlou was a jack-of-all-trades who lacked creative ability!

Wasn't it fun? The fatal weakness, regret, and shortcoming of his previous life had all been resolved.

--

Bai Youlou had fans!

Bai Youlou had fans!

Bai Youlou had fans!

Important things had to be repeated three times.

Of course, that was all a glory of the past.

After all, he was very handsome and sang pretty well. That made him a high-quality idol artist, and his career had genuinely been developing quite well.

Give him a little more time, and he could have gone up against the so-called top stars.

It was just that his fans now barely dared show their faces online. Only some brain-dead fans were still willing to defend him.

To be fair, the brain-dead fans' defense was worse than no defense at all.

The more they defended him, the more people hated him.

Passersby might only have hoped he would fade away, but some fans genuinely wanted him dead.

Fortunately, online discussions about him were still dominated by haters and people who enjoyed watching the chaos.

After the press conference, another wave of excitement arrived.

A certain netizen who had already unfollowed him and turned against him, becoming a standard hater, spotted something strange at the very first opportunity.

"Bai Youlou: She even flirtatiously called me in for some sweet soup."

The moment she saw the name Bai Youlou, her teeth began to itch with hatred. Turning against someone after becoming an ex-fan was the deadliest kind of betrayal. The more she had once liked him, the more she hated him now.

But for the same reason, once she saw that name, she had to click in and see what was going on.

Inside, she found both pictures and text, along with an edited highlight reel of the on-site video.

As for the content, it almost made her spray out her dinner.

"What kind of sleazy crap is this?"

Was this guy insane? Was he the first artist in the domestic entertainment industry to have a psychotic break after his scandal?

She immediately forwarded it to the hater group, causing a huge commotion.

"Holy crap! This is incredible. Did Bai Youlou lose his mind?"

"Feels like he's given up on himself, but what he said is pretty funny, hahaha~"

"He should switch careers and perform crosstalk. I feel like he could become popular, but the risks are pretty high. With a reputation this terrible, people might throw rotten eggs at him."

"Those two are a pair of shameless dogs. Neither of them is any good. They're biting each other now."

"."

As expected, because of those remarks, Bai Youlou trended again.

What felt somewhat absurd was that the press conference might have attracted even more attention than the previous scandal breaking.

On one hand, Bai Youlou had already been "proven guilty." There was nothing new left to curse him over.

But after this press conference, everyone could have fun with it.

The jokes were packed together, catchy, and impossible to stop reading.

Some netizens had even named this whole phenomenon "Bai's nonsensical remarks," and joke-makers of all kinds had joined in.

Of course, he probably couldn't avoid online harassment, but that "female lead" was likely taking even more heat now.

An Insider's Take: A Self-Destructing Truck!

This guy had clearly run out of options. He was cursing a few times and spitting before leaving.

There was nothing anyone could do about a bastard like this, not even the person involved.

Besides, the person involved didn't dare come out and say anything. She had been the one screwing him over in the first place. If she dared make a fuss, who knew what kind of chaos this lunatic might stir up next?

It was better to simply "send him off."

"Once this wave of attention passes, that lunatic won't be able to stir up anything else. Relax, he definitely won't drag you into it. The paparazzi didn't capture you, and you came in through the back door."

"That's good, sister-in-law. You know me. It wasn't easy for me to make it into the entertainment industry. We Rappers—"

"Enough. My husband is back. I'm hanging up."

"What? He forgave you?"

"Beep~ Beep~ Beep."

The call ended. The woman involved, the former first-tier female star of the entertainment industry who had married several years ago and was now somewhat past her prime, looked up at the doorway and forced a smile onto her face.

"Husband, you're back."

"Mm."

The brief exchange showed no obvious anger. At most, there was some distress, but more than that, there was indifference.

This was a very common kind of marriage in the entertainment industry—a marriage for appearances.

They were always affectionate in public, but only the people involved knew what they were really like.

The fame-and-profit arena was a great vat of dye, and there were always so many temptations.

The phrase "each playing around on their own" was nothing new at all.

How many people dared claim they were pure and spotless?

As for Bai Youlou, he wondered, Pure and spotless? He was black from head to toe, anyway.

His involvement in the entertainment industry couldn't even be called going along with the crowd. He was using a lower moral baseline to crush everyone else dimensionally.

Brothers, sooner or later I'll come back and deal with you bastards!

After all, he was nearly done writing the script.

--

Bai Youlou's manager was Zhou Chongguang, an utterly ridiculous name. Fortunately, this was a parallel world, so there was no Little Four.

Everyone usually called him Old Zhou.

But in truth, Old Zhou wasn't old. He hadn't even turned thirty this year.

He was a little chubby, which made him look somewhat comical.

He had switched careers halfway through and become a manager. He had studied directing at university and had even been Bai Youlou's senior.

He had spent several years working on film sets and had finally managed to become an assistant director, only to be unable to find work for the time being after a project failed.

Through a classmate's connections, he had muddled into temporarily becoming a manager. In the end, he had stayed in the job for several years.

According to Old Zhou, he was preparing to find a new employer ahead of time. After all, having managed an artist who turned out like this, his future career as a manager would probably be in trouble too.

However, Bai Youlou's idea had inspired him. If he stopped being a manager, he could go back to doing other behind-the-scenes work.

If all else failed, he could find a job on a film set. He had worked as an assistant director before, been a manager for several years, and graduated from a relevant program. With his connections in the industry, he still had some contacts he could use.

But after leaving for a while, Old Zhou came back.

The reason was that Bai Youlou had transferred fifty thousand yuan to him.

The reason was that simple, direct, and brutal.

No one would turn down money. Old Zhou didn't care what kind of madness Bai Youlou planned to unleash. As long as he genuinely paid his wages, even if he needed a manager to go into prostitution or work as a male escort, Old Zhou would do it all the same.

"But where did you get the money? Even if the company doesn't come after you for compensation, you can't escape the penalties for breaking some endorsement contracts. You should have used up most of what you earned over the past two years paying them off, right?" Old Zhou asked curiously after collecting his wages in advance.

"I sold my house and car. I should still have a few million left."

"Huh? Then where are you going to live?"

"I still have a small apartment. Enough nonsense. This is a movie script. Let's put together a film crew."

Bai Youlou rubbed his hands subconsciously. His eyes were bloodshot, but his entire body carried a strange, feverish excitement.

He looked almost unhinged.

Old Zhou found him extremely unfamiliar in this state.

He had managed this guy for several years and had never seen Bai Youlou like this.

How should he put it? The old Bai Youlou had been a shy young man, but from the moment the scandal happened until now, he had become bold, shameless, and reckless, while also giving people the impression of a gambler.

No, an ultimate gambling maniac!

Had this guy really dared to sell off everything he owned and go all in on one hand?

Old Zhou didn't even flip through the script. He hadn't looked at the title either. He merely asked curiously, "What odds do you give it?"

"Thirty to forty percent." Bai Youlou answered honestly.

That was already an optimistic estimate. He was reckless, but he wasn't blindly arrogant. Who said works remade from Earth were guaranteed to succeed here? At most, he had experience with successful works, so his odds were slightly better.

As for everything else, he still had to find ways to make things work from all sorts of angles.

Forget a parallel world—even if he had traveled back to the early years of his original world and released Wolf Warrior 2 ahead of time, he still wouldn't have achieved Wu Jing's box-office numbers.

Many works depended on the right time, place, and people. Not one of those elements could be missing.

"And you dare sell off your family assets with odds like that?!"

"It's fine. If this fails, I have ways to make money. I can try again after a while."

Damn! I give up!

Only then did Old Zhou lower his head and glance at the script. It was very rough, printed on a stack of A4 paper and secured with a random clip.

The title of the script had been written in huge boldface characters on the first sheet of A4 paper.

"Whiplash."

Everyone, please follow the book! It's really important during the new-book period and can practically determine whether a book lives or dies! From now on, this book will update at this fixed time every day. Muah!