**Chapter 171: Self-Destruction**

"Your agent can wait here. Inside, there are union representatives who ensure the actors' rights are protected, so you can rest assured in the waiting room. Once the audition is over, the actor will naturally return to meet you here."

The secretary smiled, but it was a distant, professional smile. It was clear she had dealt with countless similar situations and had the whole script down pat, managing to take control of the situation before Edgar could even open his mouth.

From her expression, with her hair tied back in a high ponytail, it was obvious she didn't care how big of a deal the agent might be. To her, everyone was treated the same. Without waiting for the agent to introduce himself, she had already drawn the line.

The subtext was clear: **Shut up.**

Edgar wasn't surprised. This was the difference between a production company holding its own auditions and outsourcing to a casting company. So, he didn't plan to argue.

Besides, Edgar believed in Anson.

So, he just gave Anson a look of encouragement, signaling him to go ahead. That casual demeanor even caught the high-ponytail woman off guard. She raised an eyebrow slightly and glanced at Anson.

"Like this?"

Anson looked like a nerd—wearing a white T-shirt, a blue checkered shirt, and a dark gray hoodie, paired with dark blue jeans. He was layered up, thoroughly covering himself.

He had a large black waterproof bag slung over his shoulder. Though its contents were unknown, its bulky shape made it look somewhat heavy. More importantly, a skateboard was attached to a frame at the back.

Of course, the black-framed glasses on the bridge of his nose played a crucial role, masking his bright, clear blue eyes, making him seem dull. His slightly messy hair added to the nerdy impression, giving him a generally clumsy appearance.

The high-ponytail woman's question was: Was Anson sure he didn't want to leave his bag with his agent?

The woman had seen it all. She knew actors would go to any lengths to nail an audition, with a wide variety of outfits and outrageous ideas that couldn't be counted. Among those wild costumes, Anson's attire was mundane and unremarkable. But that wasn't what surprised her.

The question was… why?

Other actors came to auditions trying their best to showcase their charm. After all, this was for a superhero role. Even though it was no secret that Sony Columbia wanted to distinguish the role from Christopher Reeve's image, a superhero still needed to be charismatic, right?

Otherwise, how would they attract an audience on the big screen?

So, every actor there was subtly trying to show off their looks. But what was going on with this actor?

Looking around, he was dull and lackluster, completely overshadowed by the others. No one would even notice he was there.

Was he really going to go through with this?

That's why she asked.

Edgar's voice cut in, "Yes, just like this."

Actually, Edgar couldn't be 100% sure either, but he trusted Anson.

He had his expertise, and Anson had his. They respected each other's professions. Only in this way could they work together seamlessly to achieve their goals.

The high-ponytail woman looked at Edgar, then at Anson, and didn't say anything more. After all, if they wanted to sabotage their own chances, it wasn't her problem. Self-destructive auditions like this, where people dug their own graves, were a regular occurrence. It seemed like this was this week's installment.

Without another word, she turned around and led the way, with Anson following her down the hallway.

After a turn, the carpet of dark green and deep brown intertwined underfoot, leading to a series of chairs lined up against the left-hand wall. At the end of the row of chairs was a closed door.

That, it seemed, was the magic room where the audition would take place.

The air was quiet and tense. The carpet muffled the sound of their steps, leaving only a slight thud beneath their feet. The silent atmosphere made Anson's heartbeat noticeably faster. What started as a small amount of nervousness was now growing exponentially, making him feel like he was about to throw up.

Anson's arrival drew the attention of the other candidates sitting in the chairs. As he looked at them, they looked back at him.

—No James Franco.

Things matched up with the information Edgar had. The first round of auditions, including James's, had already ended, and now Anson was part of the second group.

But as of now, there was no way to know how the first round had gone. Maybe the second round was always planned, or maybe the first round didn't go well, so they added this second one.

Then, Anson spotted Scott Speedman.

Scott, like Chris Evans, is a quintessential athletic heartthrob. With a background in swimming, he boasts excellent body proportions. His youthful outfit of a white T-shirt paired with jeans perfectly showcases his sunny disposition.

What makes him a bit more distinctive is the hint of melancholy in his brow, creating a unique, contradictory charm when combined with his otherwise vibrant aura.

Scott also noticed Anson—

He was somewhat unsure; was this really Anson?

It's true what they say about the eyes being the window to the soul. Wearing glasses or not can indeed change one's demeanor. While it doesn't make someone entirely unrecognizable, it can alter their aura significantly. The sparkle and expression in the eyes, now veiled as if behind frosted glass, made Scott unsure whether this was the same person from the café.

Involuntarily, Scott took a couple of extra glances at Anson—

He was sizing up Anson and probing him.

But Anson's gaze didn't linger on anyone in particular. It was as if he was meeting everyone at the door for the first time, treating all the waiting actors equally. He gave a natural, slight nod of acknowledgment before sitting down.

Scott felt a bit more at ease. Maybe the encounter at the café really was just a coincidence, after all. Anson hadn't even spoken to Sam, right?

There were four people in total seated at the door, and Anson was the last to arrive. However, he wasn't late; there were still ten minutes left until the scheduled audition time.

Clearly, they were all waiting.

Anson exhaled slightly in relief. The small mishap that morning had made him realize he needed to adjust, so he decided to make a quick stop at the library. By the time he left for Sony Columbia, he was already in a bit of a rush. To avoid New York's terrible traffic from making him late, Anson had used the trunk of his car as a makeshift dressing room.

Luckily, they had made it on time.

The high-ponytail woman wasn't surprised. "The audition will proceed as scheduled."

They wouldn't start the audition early just because the candidates arrived early. In fact, neither the producer nor the director had arrived yet.

With that, the woman with the high ponytail turned and left.

At this moment, Anson finally exhaled slightly in relief. It had been a busy morning—

To be precise, everything had been moving at double speed since yesterday.

Finally, Anson had time to use his peripheral vision to assess the other competitors. Although Edgar had already informed him of the names, now he could match names with faces. Combined with memories from his previous life, the feeling was quite surreal.

**Second Update**.