Chapter 207: The Saint

In the evening, Martin and Elena paid a visit to their next-door neighbors.

Lily, seated on the living room sofa, wielded a sharp carving knife, repeatedly puncturing the box containing the buffalo horns.

There was a sharp pop, and a sizable hole emerged, as if she were venting some pent-up emotions.

Hall, perched on a nearby sofa, was engrossed in his video game but had silenced the sound to avoid disturbing Lily's already foul mood.

Suddenly, a fist came down and lightly tapped Hall's head.

He looked up to see Lily's somber face and said in a defeated tone, "I didn't do anything to you."

Lily retorted, "You're all cheerful, and I'm not, so you can't be either!"

Unfazed by her unreasonable behavior, Hall hastily retreated to his room with his game console.

Lily continued to grumble to herself for a while before deciding to make productive use of her time. She went back to her computer desk, took out her textbooks and study materials, and began reviewing her homework.

The sixteen-year-old girl channeled her frustrations into her studies, planning to take the SAT exam next year with the goal of attending college in Los Angeles.

USC or CalArts?

These two schools briefly crossed her mind, but she set those thoughts aside. Her focus was on her studies, leaving Martin and Elena next door behind.

After all, what good could a rogue like Martin and a prodigal like Elena do?

Next door, Elena, the female knight, was locked in combat with a dragon.

In an attempt to boost her fighting prowess, she even wore a chastity ring.

But the formidable dragon, named Martin, proved too powerful, and the female knight soon found herself captured. The roles shifted from a man riding a dragon to a man and a dragon getting along quite well.

Everything eventually settled down, and an unspoken agreement formed between them: the subject of Los Angeles was off-limits.

A gust of wind blew in through the cracked back window, bringing in a cool breeze. Elena lay atop Martin, her head resting on his chest.

"After you gained fame," Elena began, "the four of us exhumed James in the early morning and discreetly reburied him in an empty tomb at the Methodist church. He won't trouble us again."

Martin nodded, replying, "I intended to address that matter when I returned this time."

Originally, he had planned to dig the grave with Bruce one night.

Elena noted, "Hall is skilled at digging holes; he can handle it."

"How should I reward you?" Martin asked, presenting a different proposal to Elena and the others. "I'll be signing a contract with Coca-Cola soon, and there will be substantial endorsement fees. Should I buy you a new house?"

Elena raised an eyebrow, teasing, "You want to support me, huh?"

Martin shook his head, expressing earnestly, "My home is here. Bruce always said that I'm a bad person, but all my true feelings remain in Atlanta."

Elena fell silent.

Martin added with a playful grin, "I've founded a Coca-Cola cult with the position of saint, and I'm hiring you as the saint."

Elena, however, wasn't ready to give up her current job. "I have a job," she pointed out.

Martin countered, "I'll be the cult leader, and everyone else will have part-time roles. Of course, a saint can also have a part-time job." He took Elena's hand and pointed to the chastity ring adorning it. "See, you've been prepared to be a saint for a long time—a chastity saint, to be precise. It has to be you."

Elena snorted, saying, "You fool, you haven't signed the endorsement contract yet. Let's wait until you've signed the contract and received the money."

Suddenly, Martin recalled something. "Where's Emma? Why haven't I seen Emma?"

"She ran away with someone again," Elena replied with frustration. "She's addicted to drugs. When I refused to give her money to buy more stuff, she ran off with someone else. I spotted her at the nearby truck camp near the airport."

Martin comforted her by stroking her back, not quite knowing what to say.

Elena added, "I questioned her about that scoundrel Jack thoroughly. All she knew was that Jack swindled her out of every cent she had and disappeared, probably to Australia or New Zealand. She didn't have any more details." She looked to the side, saying, "My focus now is on ensuring Lily and Hall grow up safely."

"Perhaps Jack will never resurface if he's in trouble," Martin speculated. "With Jack's personality, he might not be able to bear seeing me achieve fame. Maybe he's off somewhere trying to swindle money from God."

Elena advised, "You better make some preparations. You may not be perfect, but Jack is ten times worse than you."

Martin responded decisively, "I have no siblings. If Jack reappears, I'll publicly disown him. I've discussed some contingency plans with Bruce. You and the other neighbors might be needed when the time comes." Elena agreed, "No problem."

The following morning, after breakfast, Martin paid special visits to Mr. Ward, Nani, Welbeck, and others who had stood together in the community. He presented each of them with practical gifts and a crocodile fang pendant, fulfilling their request for a group photo.

Afterward, he hopped into a Mercedes driven by Bruce and left Clayton Community, heading for Peachtree Street.

Outside the small office building of Marietta Entertainment Agency, a sizable crowd of young actors had gathered.

Leading them were the two titans of the company: Jerome and Robert.

The latter had a jovial disposition, while the former exuded a sense of calm authority.

As a Mercedes-Benz pulled up and parked in front of the building, Martin stepped out and approached Jerome, wearing a welcoming smile.

Jerome couldn't help but notice that the Martin standing before him was the same as ever—sunny, handsome, kind, and unchanged. He moved forward to greet him.

Their hands clasped together firmly.

Martin was brimming with excitement. "Captain, I'm back!"

Jerome reciprocated with a vigorous handshake. "Excellent! You didn't disappoint our Marietta troupe. You're the pride of our entire troupe!"

Martin grinned. "Captain, hearing that from you, I can't help but be proud."

Jerome couldn't hold back his laughter any longer, and his amusement radiated. "I see that pride in you."

Without Martin's endorsement and recommendation, the troupe and the management company that followed it wouldn't have enjoyed such deep collaboration with Gray Films, nor would it have reached the scale it had today. Martin had become one of the most renowned figures in the Atlanta entertainment industry, and Jerome recognized this.

To Jerome's knowledge, no Hollywood star displayed the same level of nostalgia as Martin, not even Robert Patrick.

Robert joined the conversation. "How about we continue this discussion inside?"

Jerome extended the invitation to Martin. "Let's head indoors and take a look around the company."

The trio proceeded into the office building.

The young actors gathered outside instinctively made way for them, with some trying to exchange greetings with Martin.

"Hi, Martin! You're my idol!"

"You're my favorite star; I work hard because of you!"

Martin maintained his warm smile and nodded to them. "Thank you. I appreciate your support."

These aspiring actors outside the building all dreamed of one day becoming a Hollywood star, just like Martin. After all, Martin had once started from here.

Inside the office building, photos of Martin, Jerome, and Robert were prominently displayed in the front hall.

Jerome revealed, "Robert and I have discussed it, and we want to bring you on board as a partner for the company."

Martin politely declined, "No need. I'm a member of the Screen Actors Guild, and the union regulations prohibit actors from engaging in any brokerage activities."

Just as agents couldn't directly partake in movie or series production.

Once in Jerome's office, Martin discussed his main reason for being there. "I've returned primarily for the filming of 'Wanted.' I've been in touch with the crew, and they're planning to recruit extras and young actors here in Atlanta."

Jerome explained, "Our company's actors are already participating in the auditions for the crew. They've secured exclusive roles."

Martin made a grand gesture and presented a bag to Jerome. "I brought this as a special gift for the troupe. My roots are in the theater company, and that's where I honed my acting skills."

Jerome opened the bag to reveal a Saturn-like trophy in a transparent plastic case. He couldn't contain his excitement. "The Saturn Award!"

Martin explained, "This was the first award I received upon entering Hollywood. It's the Saturn Award for Best Young Actor. It now belongs in the theater company."

Atlanta was Martin's base, the place where his character had the most profound roots. When Martin had been in Los Angeles, he had decided to manage his network of connections here.

After a brief chat, Martin paid a visit to Robert's office.

Upon entering, he noticed a bottle of Coca-Cola on the desk and couldn't help but remark, "This is the main altar of our Coca-Cola Cult."

Robert explained, "Coca-Cola from 2003, olive oil from 2003. The desk itself was transferred from the theater, and every detail has been meticulously arranged."

Martin recalled that he didn't have olive oil at his place and decided, "Send a batch of olive oil to Los Angeles."

Robert handed him a small notebook. "I've copied the detailed process for you."

Martin read it carefully and then entrusted it to Bruce for safekeeping. To him, these rituals were akin to the pig heads used before filming started in his previous life—symbols meant to bring good fortune.

One of the rituals that particularly caught his attention was the Coca-Cola placement during his City Folk's performance.

At noon, Jerome treated them to a meal, and Martin had lunch with them. After a brief break, he headed to the crew's accommodations in the afternoon.

The former General Motors Atlanta production center had been wholly acquired by Gray Films, which had now officially relocated there.

The office area of the Auto Park had been converted for use by the company and resident crews. Some of the production workshops had been transformed into a large photo studio, with others being renovated gradually.

Martin had an encounter with Kelly Gray.

She sported short, medium chestnut hair and her lightly made-up face exuded confidence and capability, much like a strong female CEO from a Hollywood movie.

"Hero of Los Angeles, you seem to be in even better shape," she remarked.

Seated in her CEO's office, Kelly swung around in her swivel chair, her legs crossed elegantly, as she studied Martin from head to toe. "Why do I feel like you've become even more attractive? Do stars and heroes possess some kind of aura?"

Martin playfully pulled her up, settling her on his lap as he took a seat on the swivel chair. "Is it the power of video footage or a video incident? Why did I attract so much attention? If you really think about it, it doesn't compare to the San Francisco Valley or even those late-night movies I used to make."

Kelly swayed back and forth, searching for a comfortable position. "It's the special effects provided by celebrities."

Martin agreed. "Exactly. It offers both physical and psychological satisfaction."

Kelly inquired, "Why didn't that loser alcoholic come with you?"

Martin simply explained, "She'll be arriving in Atlanta with the rest of the crew in two days."

Finally finding a comfortable position, Kelly sat down firmly. "Martin, from the very beginning to the end, I've been helping you, so you have to help me this time."

The low-grade fever seemed to be subsiding after three days. Aside from some lingering throat discomfort, there were no other significant symptoms. It might return again towards the end of the month.