The More Tragic I Act, the Stronger I Get — My Fans Beg Me to Stop Killing Off My Roles-Chapter 297: What did they face back then?

"He's going to use 'the real thing' on you."

Yan Zheng's voice was like cigarette ash, dry and heavy as it settled in the air.

Sun Zhou's face instantly drained of all color.

The atmosphere on the film set the next day was unusually tense.

In the center of the warehouse, a massive transparent water tank stood imposingly.

Inside, murky water floated with dead leaves and weeds, simulating the filthy river water of the border region.

On the long table beside it, apart from a stack of towels, there was also an inconspicuous plastic bucket.

The bucket was half-full of a liquid that emitted a pungent, spicy smell, making one's throat tighten just from smelling it.

Pepper water.

Everyone was silent, only the clanging of equipment made cold, sharp sounds.

Sun Zhou's lips trembled uncontrollably,

He gripped Jiang Ci's arm tightly, with great force.

"Brother, no, this will kill someone! I'll go talk to the producer! The contract doesn't say we have to film it like this!"

Jiang Ci stopped him.

He just calmly looked at that glass coffin.

He turned his face slightly, his tone as calm as if discussing the weather: "The real thing is easier to act with. Fake ones... still require imagination, too tiring."

He paused, his voice even softer, as if speaking to himself: "Besides, I want to know what 'they' faced back then."

Sun Zhou was stunned, staring blankly at Jiang Ci's profile. Wasn't this exactly the Ci-ge he admired, the one who championed realism?

In the end, he chose to remain silent.

Yan Zheng stood to the side, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke that blurred the heaviness on his face.

Filming preparations were complete.

Jiang Ci changed into his costume, a thin black tank top that made the bruises on his body appear even more ghastly.

Lei Zhong walked over, his face with its thick, hardened muscles showing no trace of humor. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

He leaned close to Jiang Ci, lowering his voice:

"Kid, I know my limits."

"If you can't take it, slap your thigh, I'll stop immediately."

Jiang Ci looked up and smiled at him. That smile, under the dim light, appeared remarkably composed.

"Uncle Lei, please don't go easy on me, or we'll have to do it again."

Lei Zhong looked at him, his Adam's apple bobbing violently. In the end, he said nothing, turning and walking towards the water tank.

Behind the monitor, Jiang Wen only said two words.

"Action."

Jiang Ci was held by two stuntmen, firmly pressed onto the chair in front of the water tank.

Lei Zhong personally stepped forward, grabbed a towel, and roughly covered Jiang Ci's face with it.

The next second, icy, murky water poured down.

The feeling of suffocation was like an invisible hand instantly choking his throat.

Water seeped through the towel, invading his nostrils and mouth. A burning, intense pain shot through his lungs.

Jiang Ci's body began to convulse instinctively, his limbs struggling frantically on the chair,

Gurgling sounds, choked off, came from his throat.

Behind the monitor, Jiang Wen leaned forward, the veins on the back of his hand gripping the walkie-talkie bulging.

Some people on the set had already turned away, unable to bear watching.

[Body of Steel] protected his organs, but it could not isolate the agony of near-death.

Relying on that inhuman will, Jiang Ci endured the long thirty seconds.

"Cut!"

Lei Zhong yanked the towel away.

Jiang Ci slid from the chair onto the ground, lying prone as he coughed violently, vomiting large mouthfuls of filthy water.

"Take one, good." Jiang Wen's voice came through the walkie-talkie, flat, cold, and hard.

Sun Zhou wanted to rush forward but was firmly held back by a set assistant.

Jiang Ci pushed against the slippery ground, swaying as he tried to stand, but Lei Zhong's large hand pressed down on his shoulder.

"Another take." Jiang Wen's voice sounded again. "Duration, doubled."

The set was deathly quiet.

Doubled? One minute?

The faces of several female clapper loaders had already lost all color, their hands tightly covering their mouths.

[Ding, detection of primary heartbreak emotional resonance.]

[Heartbreak Value +35.]

[Ding, detection of suppressed heartbreak emotion... Heartbreak Value +42.]

In Jiang Ci's mind, the system's notification sounds rang out on their own.

He pushed against the slippery ground, coughing until his lungs hurt, yet he still lifted his head,

Facing the direction of the monitor, he slowly raised a trembling finger, making an "OK" gesture.

Lei Zhong's hand began to tremble slightly.

He pressed Jiang Ci back onto the chair again and covered his face with the towel.

This time, the water flow was even more violent.

Time passed second by second.

Jiang Ci's struggles went from violent to gradually weakening.

In his world, only the roaring sound of water remained, and the pain of his lungs feeling like they were about to explode.

Thirty seconds.

Forty seconds.

"Director! The time is too long! It could kill someone!" The young assistant director finally couldn't hold back and shouted.

Jiang Wen ignored him completely.

Fifty seconds.

Lei Zhong felt the struggling force of the body under his hands rapidly disappearing.

His palms were drenched in cold sweat.

[Group extreme heartbreak alert! Heartbreak Value +58!]

[Strong empathetic heartbreak alert! Heartbreak Value +65!]

The alarms in his mind mixed with the real-world suffocation.

At the very last second, Lei Zhong suddenly released his hands.

He yanked the now motionless body from the chair.

Jiang Ci lay prone on the cold concrete floor, like a fish thrown ashore, dying,

His body twitched unconsciously, but he couldn't cough.

A few seconds later.

"Guh—"

He vomited a large amount of water, followed by heart-wrenching coughs,

His entire body curled into a ball, his face pale as a sheet of paper.

The entire set was silent.

Sun Zhou could no longer hold back, breaking free from those restraining him,

Scrambling over, using a towel to clumsily wipe Jiang Ci's face.

"Brother! Brother!"

Jiang Ci's consciousness was a chaotic blur. It took him a long time to slowly push himself up.

He lifted his head, his unfocused gaze passing over everyone, looking towards the figure behind the monitor.

He opened his mouth, his throat emitting a wheezing, airy sound,

Every word accompanied by choking coughs, yet stubbornly piecing together a complete sentence:

"Director... this take... is it... good?"

Jiang Wen sat behind the monitor, silent for a long time.

He stared at the playback, at the moment the young man was dragged out,

The despair and emptiness that erupted in those eyes, truly clawing back from the brink of death.

That kind of realism made even him, this tyrant of the set, feel a chill seeping from the marrow of his bones.

No one applauded on set.

Everyone just silently watched the figure wrapped in a huge towel by Sun Zhou, still trembling uncontrollably.

This silence was heavier than any applause.

That night after wrap, in the smoking area downstairs of the guesthouse.

Producer Old Zhang found Lei Zhong and offered him a cigarette.

Lei Zhong took it but fumbled several times before managing to light it.

He took a deep drag, the hand holding the cigarette still trembling uncontrollably.

Old Zhang looked at him and sighed: "Today, you had a tough time."

Lei Zhong didn't respond, just stared at the ember between his fingers, as if talking to himself.

"Old Zhang, that kid isn't right."

He paused, lifted his head, in those turbid eyes,

Fear and disbelief were intertwined, finally leaving only the horrified look one gives a monster.

"Just now, in the water, he was... enjoying it."

"He's a born lunatic."