Dominate the Super Bowl-Chapter 1533 - 1532: No Escape

Saterian looked at the staff, utterly shocked, hardly believing his ears: Go see for himself? What did "you go see for yourself" mean? What kind of shirking responsibility was this, didn’t he need to know the situation? That’s why he was asking, hoping to be prepared.

So, this is it?

Already fuming over the scheduling by the marketing department, Saterian’s anger surged uncontrollably, and profanity was on the tip of his tongue. In the next second, the elevator doors opened, and his throat was instantly choked, rendering him unable to believe his eyes. Every thought in his mind vanished instantly.

In shock—

A great multitude of people, densely packed, stretching endlessly.

The first-floor lobby of the Film Palace was jam-packed, shoulder to shoulder, the bustling crowd filling the entire view as if it might explode at any moment.

Five hundred people? A thousand? Three thousand?

No, numbers had lost their meaning. Everywhere he looked was just people, making him feel insignificant, like a drop in the ocean.

Awe washed over, a rolling heat wave crashing through with an unstoppable force, leaving his chest heavy, all sounds disappearing in his throat.

Hesitantly stepping out of the elevator, he then saw the whirlwind in the atrium of the Film Palace, where the air, usually cold and refreshing, became hot and dry, swirling up in circles, pulling his gaze along, making his scalp tingle—

Above, levels two, three, and four, rising up, jam-packed like sparrows, with people curiously craning their necks to look down.

Overcrowded, there seemed to be no empty space wherever he looked. The in and out of carbon dioxide instantly brought summer to the atrium of the Film Palace.

Saterian couldn’t recall when the Berlin Film Festival had ever been this lively. During his tenure, it seemed like it had never happened.

No wonder. No wonder the staff couldn’t describe it because words couldn’t capture the grandeur here—not even one percent.

There was no other way but to witness it firsthand with one’s own eyes.

Unimaginable, Li Wei’s appearance could create such a ripple, such a frenzy!

Involuntarily, Saterian’s heart started surging too; after all, who could refuse a carnival? He didn’t even realize it himself—no irritability, no anxiety—as he briskly stepped toward the crowd.

Saterian was not the only one shocked; Li Wei was too.

His surprise appearance at the press conference had ended, and Li Wei genuinely did not want to steal the limelight from the crew, so he was planning to slip away early.

Of course, part of the reason was that he didn’t want to be engulfed by the circle of journalists, playing the leading role in the pack of wolves. But just like Cinderella faced the problem of returning to normalcy after midnight when the magic wore off, once the journalists caught on, he would be exposed.

Li Wei had no desire to leave behind a glass slipper like Cinderella, allowing those ravenous guys to track him down, so he had to leave early.

Among the clamor and surges, only a small portion of journalists noticed Li Wei turning away.

The problem was, Li Wei was so calm and composed, it looked like he was just heading to the restroom or changing press venues—

Keep in mind, journalists were extremely busy during the film festival, often rushing from one premiere to another, from one press conference to the next, with no time to catch their breath, not even to rest or sleep, operating on a fully packed ten-day schedule.

Thus, during press conferences, they often needed to rush to another event, sometimes even sprinting while holding their dinner sandwiches.

That’s how Li Wei appeared at that moment.

Low-key. Natural. Composed. Completely like an experienced journalist. Had he not been wreaking havoc on the Super Bowl stage not long ago, it would have made sense if he said he were a journalist then.

This left the on-site journalists torn between conflicting thoughts, unable to determine Li Wei’s intentions quickly and uncertain of how to respond.

Consequently, amid the tugging and hesitation, Li Wei had already quietly slipped away.

Li Wei’s demeanor was utterly calm and serene; when he met the gaze of some journalists, he even nodded kindly, just like greeting colleagues.

Such an open posture left the journalists baffled, unsure how to react, as they helplessly watched Li Wei open the small door to the press conference room—

Squeak.

Just as he pushed the door open, Li Wei saw a crowd of journalists crammed at the entrance, completely blocking the passage, all turning their heads to look at him simultaneously.

They looked at each other, face to face.

The scene fell into an inexplicable, brief stalemate, and Li Wei’s heart tightened: Not good.

In that split second, several choices flashed through Li Wei’s mind. He could retreat, close the door, and shut out the sea of people in front of him. But that would mean losing his cover, revealing his panic, much like James Bond without a disguise.

Meanwhile, he could choose to move forward, act as if he weren’t the journalist’s target, perfectly blend into the role, and merge with all the journalists.

Then, Li Wei demonstrated the reflexes of a professional athlete.

Smile. Nod. Greet.

Continuing to step forward, Li Wei even politely indicated, "Excuse me, please let me through."

Such a graceful demeanor, as if he had no idea who the journalists were actually after.

The small group of journalists at the front actually moved aside obediently, allowing Li Wei to move forward.

Li Wei, being a true master at deception, effortlessly fooled the journalists before him, even managed a large-scale hypnosis.

Unfortunately, the size of the crowd before him was so exaggerated, beyond control, and finally, someone in the back snapped out of it, seeing through Li Wei’s hypnotic maneuver.

"Professor!"

A shout, shattering the silence, was immediately followed by a burst of flashbulbs, like a dazzling silver waterfall crashing down from the skies above, surrounding Li Wei in an instant wave of heat.

Everything was so overwhelming, so forceful, that his hearing lost functionality. All sounds were swallowed up in an endless buzz filling the void, his vision plunged into darkness instantaneously, with only countless speckles of light blinking in the boundless blackness.

The sound of shutters, flashbulbs, cheers, unleashed like a storm, engulfing the Film Palace in a tropical tempest, all sanity lost.

The night, at this moment, was pushed to its extreme. Waves of heat and frenzy fully erupted, boiling blood rushing to the heart in torrents, waves of energy exploding.

"Li Wei," "Professor," "Berlin," "Surprise," "Special," and other keywords crashed and collided together, with language breaking down, leaving just syllables lingering in the air, the immediate burst of energy even crashing through the press conference room doors.

Boom, boom, boom!

Then, the doors burst open, shouts, screams, and flashbulbs surging in.

Now, it’s perfect; Li Wei found himself in a 360-degree complete surround, escaping was impossible.