Chapter 146: Agents Need Opportunities Too

On a patch of withered grass, a grey body twitched, but at the very front, it was impossible to discern that it was a rabbit's head. Amid the bloody, indistinct mass, red liquid continuously flowed out, mixed with bits of white.

Just one glance made Carey Mulligan think of the pig intestines she had once touched, feeling something surge up, she immediately bent over, emitting bouts of dry heaves.

Murphy discarded his gun, bent down to cover Carey's eyes with one hand, and with the other, reached behind to hand her a water bottle, "Drink some water."

Turning away from the rabbit, Carey took the water bottle and drank, feeling somewhat better.

"I'm...fine," she said, determined not to look back.

"Wow…" Margaret's crisp voice sounded beside them, filled with amazement, "You can hunt like this?"

Murphy turned his head to see Margaret holding the leash of the hunting dog Bob, standing next to the rabbit, whose death was particularly tragic, looking curiously for a while, seemingly accustomed to such scenes.

"All right!" She chuckled, "This is our first catch of the day!"

Margaret bent down, grabbed one of the rabbit's hind legs to pick it up, glanced at the utterly smashed head, and shook her head lightly. She came over to Murphy, "Can I have the rabbit?"

The smell of blood was somewhat pungent. Seeing Carey pinch her nose, Murphy casually waved his hand, "It's yours, Maggie."

"Thank you." Margaret smiled sweetly, then turned to her hunting dog, "Bob, you've got lunch."

Saying this, she threw the rabbit down in front of the dog, and Bob immediately pounced on it.

To avoid further upsetting Carey, Murphy quickly stood between her and the dog and moved away a bit.

Twenty feet away, they looked back to see Margaret standing by, just watching the dog tear and eat the bloody rabbit meat.

Perhaps due to the training of farm life, the girl was quite brave and wild.

After a while, Carey gradually recovered, and upon Murphy's inquiry, she nodded lightly, and the hunting continued.

The four of them, maintaining some distance, walked towards the sparse woods, with Murphy and David Robey's heavy boots crunching on the dry, yellow leaves, making a series of slight crackling sounds.

"Shush!"

A few thousand feet ahead, David Robey stopped, leaning behind a eucalyptus tree, signaling to Murphy with a finger. Murphy too hid behind another eucalyptus, as Carey and Margaret lightened their steps.

The rustling sound of hooves crushing leaves suddenly rose, getting closer. Murphy peeked through the gaps in the woods, barely making out some animals trotting.

Australia has no native large carnivores, making deer-like creatures almost free from natural threats.

"Is it the same group from before?" Murphy whispered.

David Robey shook his head, "Should be another group."

As soon as he finished speaking, Murphy took down his rifle, quickly loaded it, looking for the right position to aim at the slowing deer.

David Robey, leaning against the eucalyptus, kept an eye on the area, raised his rifle aiming there after the deer completely stopped.

Taking a big step to another eucalyptus, Murphy leaned against the trunk, rifle raised, ready to shoot at any moment.

About twenty adult deer appeared in his sight, familiar with the woods, nimbly moving around in search of food.

"Fire!" David Robey shouted, firing the trigger first.

Then, Murphy and Carey fired two shots, emptying their rifle chambers.

"Bob!"

Margaret whistled again, and the hunting dog dashed out, the deer scattered by the gunfire. Among the trees, one could see a deer falling to the ground.

"I hit it! I hit it!" Carey exclaimed excitedly, almost jumping, "I really hit it!"

"Good shot!" David Robey gave her a thumbs up.

Margaret glanced sideways, "Lucky shot."

Carey laughed joyfully, but she wouldn't tell anyone that she aimed at a doe but hit a buck instead.

Just as she thought to follow Margaret to check the prey, Murphy pulled her back, "Let's wait here."

Murphy didn't want her to see the gruesome sight again. Carey hesitated but stopped.

"I'll go get the car to the edge of the woods," David Robey said, turning back towards the path they came from.

Standing with Carey, Murphy didn't go to see the prey. Only Margaret followed Bob, standing in front of a pair of vaguely visible antlers, idly kicking the deer's head.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the roar of the off-road pickup's engine echoed back to the farm, accompanied by the excited barking of the dog and a faint smell of blood, indicating a fruitful hunt.

Darkness engulfed the light, and in the clear night sky, adorned with speckled stars, a large bonfire blazed in front of the farmhouse, illuminating half the sky.

A large grill and temporary stove were set up by the fire, where the farm's chefs and helpers prepared delicious food from the afternoon's hunt, including grilled meat, potato stewed deer meat, rabbit soup, and other dishes, served to Murphy and the others.

"Cheers."

Murphy and David Robey clinked glasses, taking a big gulp of beer, discussing some movie topics while Carey, sitting next to Margaret, whispered continuously.

"You're eating our crops!" Margaret, wielding a small knife, cursed as she shaved meat off a roasted rabbit leg, "I'll eat you all up! Every last one!"

Carey, holding a skewer, ate elegantly, "Maggie, rabbits are overrunning this place. How many can you eat?"

Margaret fiercely stabbed the rabbit leg with her knife, turning to ask, "What can we do?"

Australia's rabbit plague is world-renowned, with no good solution.

"Isn't there a good solution?" Carey pondered, coming up with an unreliable idea, "Can't we poison them all?"

Margaret rolled her eyes, "And the cattle, sheep, and horses on the farm? Poison them too?"

Carey smiled sheepishly, Margaret added, "Besides, the state government wouldn't allow it."

She invited boldly, "Carey, you can come hunting here every year. We'll kill these damn rabbits together."

"Sure!" Carey, still young, replied, "I like it here too, not as hot as Los Angeles during the day."

Murphy overheard and said to Margaret, "Maggie, Carey and I will come here for vacation next year."

Margaret pouted, "I invited Carey, not you."

Ignoring Murphy, she told Carey, "I'll teach you horseback riding tomorrow."

After four days on David Robey's farm, Murphy and Carey left to continue their vacation in Australia, visiting Brisbane and the Gold Coast before heading south to Sydney.

While Murphy relaxed on vacation, Bill Roscius in Los Angeles was incredibly busy.

Although he had many clients, since "Saw's" box office success, Bill prioritized Murphy, ensuring all related tasks were handled promptly.

Besides the financial return, he saw in Murphy a path to climb the entertainment agency's hierarchy.

This path no longer seemed long and distant but appeared within reach, almost tangible.

Early today, Bill rushed to the company for the weekly meeting. Unlike other agencies, CAA's meetings started earlier, at 7:30 AM, allowing them to conclude before nine and not disrupt the agents' work.

Though there's a hierarchy among agents, and a truly flat management is idealistic, during meetings, all agents, whether newcomers or seasoned like Bill, had the opportunity to speak. If their suggestions were sensible, they could reach the ears of the management.

Just after seven, Bill pushed open the conference room door, entering a room full of people from the film agency department, already bustling with discussions and information exchange.

Bill found an empty seat in the fifth row near the aisle, sitting down.

"How come you just arrived, Bill?" a colleague turned to him.

"Slept late last night," Bill took a water bottle from the conference table, opening it to drink, "Overslept this morning."

A female agent in the front row turned to Bill, enviously commenting, "Bill's not like us anymore, now a busy man!"

The others agreed, "Bill is indeed busy."

"Mike, Grace," Bill set down the bottle, shaking his head, "Stop teasing, I've been nearly worn out lately."

Grace, not hiding her envy, "I wish I could be as busy as you, but I don't have the opportunity."

Not just Hollywood directors and actors need opportunities, but agents like them need them too.

Hearing the word "opportunity," Mike's expression darkened, having once had a chance but failed to seize it like Bill Roscius did.

He was one of the first to notice Murphy Stanton.

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