Chapter 53: Punishment

"Let me go, please..."

James Franco's face was covered in blood. He was tied to a sturdy chair, with a noose around his neck. The rope extended from a chandelier overhead and was held by Carey Mulligan, whose face was splattered with blood. Her red jacket was thrown aside, and her black T-shirt stood out starkly against the red-gray background of the room.

In front of her, James Franco struggled to turn his head, "Please..."

The girl remained unmoved, fastening frame after frame of young girls' photographs to the end of the rope.

As more frames were added, James Franco extended his neck and gasped for breath, making his final desperate struggle. "It wasn't me, it really wasn't me! You have no evidence..."

"That doesn't matter," Carey Mulligan replied coldly.

In front of her, Murphy zoomed in for a close-up shot, then the temporary camera track swiftly moved to James Franco's side, capturing another close-up of his face.

James Franco's face was covered in snot and tears, and he spoke weakly, as if he had truly been castrated.

His character had been castrated, and James Franco perfectly captured Jeff's mindset at this moment. He could torture others, but he couldn't bear to lose his own life. To survive, he kept trying various tactics.

"Kill me," he said with his last bit of strength, "You won't get away with it."

"I told you, I'm a top student." The girl was still busy tying photo frames. "I anticipated this. You live in a remote area; no one saw me come here."

She finally raised her head and killed his last hope coldly. "I'm underage. I've never had my fingerprints taken, nor left any DNA information. Even if I left traces here, the police wouldn't find me."

"Moreover..."

As Murphy adjusted the camera angle, she turned just right to face James Franco, pointing at a stack of videotapes on the table. "The police will be delighted to see the things you recorded. They won't put much effort into investigating a scumbag like you."

"One last thing," Carey Mulligan's speech quickened. "When you get to hell, don't be a man anymore, and definitely don't be a pedophile!"

James Franco finally broke down, tears and snot streaming out once again. "Please! Please! Please..."

His voice was so tragic and pitiful that, combined with his bloody appearance, it evoked a strong sense of sympathy.

According to mainstream movie conventions, the bad guy should receive some punishment and ultimately be handed over to the law, especially since the protagonist is an underage girl.

But Murphy chose this project not to follow the original storyline. The original film's implied details and so-called reflections were not considered. He started by creating a cold-blooded, perverted devil, then highlighted the devil's hypocrisy through many scenes. In Hailey's detective-like search, it was revealed that the devil had already harmed several lovely girls. In the end, the devil had to be punished thoroughly.

Cutting off the devil's source of evil and sending him back to hell was the atmosphere Murphy wanted.

Just as Carey Mulligan never sympathized with James Franco, Hailey wouldn't sympathize with Jeff. Ignoring his pitiful pleas, she quickly returned to the back of the chair, tying the largest frames to the rope. The topmost frame featured Emily's photo.

The rope tightened instantly, making the chandelier sway violently. James Franco's eyes rolled back, his legs kicking out desperately, but he was tightly bound to the chair and couldn't muster any strength...

Carey Mulligan calmly put on her jacket, packed her bag, and walked towards the door, leaving only a red-clad back to the camera.

"Cut!" Murphy stood up from behind the camera and loudly announced, "Hard Candy, that's a wrap!"

"YES!"

Carey Mulligan threw down her prop bag and was the first to rush over, running to Murphy and hugging him with open arms. "My first movie is finished!"

Murphy released Carey Mulligan and began hugging other crew members one by one. Everyone was thrilled; the end of shooting meant they could finally collect their last paycheck.

"Hey, Murphy!"

James Franco, covered in blood, approached and hugged Murphy without giving him a chance to avoid it. The special tomato sauce instantly stained Murphy. James laughed heartily, "The tomato sauce you bought tastes terrible. I've had enough of it, now it's your turn."

Murphy didn't mind and patted James Franco's back forcefully, "I hope we can work together again in the future."

He winked intentionally. "Carey said if I have another movie, she will definitely come back."

At this name, James Franco immediately looked over at Carey Mulligan, who was staring at him with a strange smile.

"Well..." James Franco quickly averted his gaze, "Let's... talk about it later."

Finally, Murphy walked over to Jessica Chastain. Just as he opened his arms, she pointedly looked at the red stains on him and stepped aside.

Murphy shrugged nonchalantly. "When are you going to New York?"

"As soon as you settle my pay," Jessica Chastain replied naturally. "Without money, I can't even buy a plane ticket."

"I'll have someone settle it for you as soon as possible."

With the film's shooting complete, their employment relationship ended. Murphy knew Jessica Chastain's ambition wasn't in behind-the-scenes work but to become an actress. Leaving was perfectly normal.

There was no special closing ceremony, nor a raucous celebration. After Murphy offered verbal thanks to each crew member, the house gradually quieted down as they packed up equipment, tidied up, and preserved the film reels...

Murphy went to check the temporary storage. Most of the rented equipment was intact, and of the 240 reels of film bought, nearly 20 were left, meaning he had about 1,000 minutes of footage.

"Hey, Murphy."

Carey Mulligan came over after removing her makeup. "What are you doing?"

"Just worrying," Murphy sighed. "I have to cut 1,000 minutes of footage down to about 90 minutes. Just thinking about it gives me a headache."

"So..." Carey Mulligan looked up at him, "Will you still be very busy next?"

Murphy nodded. She then asked, "When we get back to Los Angeles, if I don't understand something, can I still come to you for advice like before?"

Her eyes were filled with undisguised expectation. Without much thought, Murphy made a gesture of making a phone call, "You know my number."