Blackstone Code-Chapter 406: Helping Others Is the Source of Joy

Lynch was the preferred target of many young girls seeking fame. First, he was young enough that girls with at least some sense of propriety wouldn’t feel disgusted when getting intimate.

It really could be revolting—those… hairy, unshaven chins scraping against a young girl’s skin could give her goosebumps and even make her nauseous.

But Lynch was different. He was handsome—handsome enough to be the leading man in an idol drama.

Moreover, he was wealthy and influential in high society. Many people would fight tooth and nail just to get a glimpse into that world. Some could spend their whole lives trying and still never make it in. But if they had even a brief connection with Lynch, they’d gain instant access.

He embodied nearly every fantasy a woman might have about the perfect lover. Add to that his humor and the anecdotes people heard about him, and it wasn’t surprising that many girls didn’t mind a romantic encounter with him.

Even if it was just a fling, not something lasting, it was enough to significantly raise a girl’s market value.

This was a harsh, realistic world where everyone had a price. Sometimes, even a second-hand item could be worth more than something brand new—especially if it had once belonged to Lynch.

Some people clung to their values and aged with them, their worth diminishing over time. Others dared to change. Their value might not increase, but at least it wouldn’t plummet so quickly.

On a bustling street under the blazing sun, two people seemed frozen in time amid the flowing traffic and crowded sidewalks.

Lynch looked at the girl. She gripped the brim of her sun hat and stared back at him. She knew she should be grateful, but for some reason, she just couldn’t stop herself from feeling furious.

“Can you be my boyfriend… just for a while?” she finally blurted out, completely abandoning her usual restraint.

It wasn’t even a particularly bold thing to say. Compared to girls who blatantly offered themselves, a simple request for a relationship was hardly outrageous. Still, she felt stifled.

In her past interactions with men—be it hormone-ridden boys her age, older middle-aged guys, or men her parents’ age—she had always held the upper hand.

Only in front of Lynch did her looks, figure, personality, and every other advantage seem to lose their effectiveness.

She glared at him angrily. Lynch nodded slightly. “It would be an honor…”

“Penney!” she snapped in frustration.

“It would be an honor, Miss Penney!” Lynch laughed heartily, his mood as sunny as the day.

Meanwhile, not far away in a hotel, the girl’s agent was anxiously pacing. The film’s production company had invested $450,000, with over half of it going to actors and crew. Only a little over $100,000 remained for actual filming.

Still, it was considered a big-budget production.

In an era with no CGI or post-production effects—just some basic props and practical effects—most of the budget went to location rentals, props, and the most expensive item: film stock.

Such stripped-down shoots, especially for plot-driven films with minimal props, placed immense pressure on the actors. Audiences focused entirely on the cast, and even the slightest mistake would be spotted and criticized by sharp-eyed reviewers.

But if the acting held up, both the film and its cast would be embraced by audiences and the market alike.

Every top-tier actor had clawed their way to the top. It might sound exaggerated, but it wasn’t far from the truth. In those days, with little to offer viewers beyond the story and performances, actors had to be exceptional.

This created a unique phenomenon: top-tier actors not only had stellar acting skills but also loyal fan bases and immense box office pull.

As capital poured into the film industry, this phenomenon only became more extreme.

Writers were everywhere. Directors could be hired with enough money. But good actors? They were rare.

Producers were willing to wave around blank checks, searching the globe for the right talent. Some A-list actors even had more power on set than directors, second only to the financiers. �

This film’s male lead had starred in Last Blood 1, Last Blood 2, Last Blood 3, and other macho action flicks. He was a generational icon, one of the most successful action stars in the Federation: Sloan.

Hiring Sloan had taken up half of the film’s total budget, which is why they chose to film in York State.

The producers hoped to get some government subsidies. If they ran short on funds during post-production, they wouldn’t need to reapply for a budget extension.

Penney’s agency had cashed in several favors to secure her the female lead role—her biggest breakthrough in the industry so far.

This was her first time leading a major production. As long as she avoided major criticism, she could earn a foothold in the second-tier market for future female leads, a huge step for her career.

The only downside? Sloan.

Not just Penney, but her agent and agency were also dealing with Sloan for the first time. Their knowledge of him had been limited to his roles and media coverage.

Only after meeting him in person did they realize how ridiculous he really was.

He was scared of bugs, mice, and injuries. He supposedly almost cried after injuring his knee on a custom prop recently.

On top of that, he was a lecher. At 51 years old, he actually suggested faking a romantic scandal with 18-year-old Penney—a flirtatious, provocative kind of scandal.

Everyone in the industry knew how these things worked. A scandal was often a pretense for certain benefits, like securing a role. Agencies sometimes offered their talents for brief flings, all for strategic gain.

But those situations were consensual—not pressured—and certainly not with someone three times the girl’s age.

Lustful, cowardly, effeminate—those were the impressions people had of this so-called action hero.

Just now, Sloan had ignored all opposition and told Penney’s agent he had called in some friendly reporters to catch staged intimate moments between him and the girl, near the rooftop pool.

He wanted the agent to tell her to wear something sexy so they could flirt for the paparazzi.

When the girl found out, she ran off and hadn’t returned.

The agent had reported the situation to the company, but they had no solution. They weren’t the producers—just a talent agency with no top-tier stars.

They had some connections, but compared to Sloan, with his massive fanbase and box office power, they were nothing.

The agency’s final instruction was to cooperate—just act, and avoid confrontation unless absolutely necessary. Also, protect herself.

Now, the reporters were already swaggering upstairs, and the girl was still missing. If Sloan got angry—this lustful, dramatic old man—who knew what he might do?

If he decided to blacklist Penney, all her years of hard work could be wasted. Given his fame and market pull, no production company would risk offending him over a relatively unknown young actress.

“I never should’ve taken this job!” the agent cursed through gritted teeth, overwhelmed with regret. Who could have predicted such a stark difference between Sloan’s image and reality?

“If worst comes to worst… maybe I should go instead?” She pinched her waist thoughtfully. It wasn’t exactly curvy, but at least it was straight and tidy. That counted for something, didn’t it?

Just as she was debating whether to face Sloan in nothing but a bikini or just throw on a T-shirt and be done with it, the girl came back.

She rushed over as if about to say something, but then the agent noticed her hand—clasped tightly in someone else’s.

Seeing who it belonged to, the agent suddenly let out a breath of relief. For a brief moment, she thought that if someone had to take advantage of the girl, it might as well be Lynch. At least he was good-looking.

“Let me introduce my boyfriend…” the girl said cheerfully, raising her brows and winking at her agent.

The agent couldn’t help but laugh and cry at once, but she quickly composed herself and gave a slight bow. “Mr. Lynch, thank you for your help…”

She knew very well that Penney must have somehow convinced Lynch to pretend to be her boyfriend. Even though she believed the girl was exceptional, becoming Lynch’s real girlfriend was still far beyond reach.

The higher the status, the stricter the expectations for women.

Among all the wealthy wives in the Federation, not one came from the entertainment industry.

Besides, if Lynch had truly been interested in Penney, he would’ve made a move during their earlier encounters—why wait until now?

In the end, Mr. Lynch was simply a kind and decent man. Willing to understand the girl’s situation and help her through it—truly admirable.