Luggage in hand, Wayne looked for his cabin aboard the Polaris.
The White Glove Association had spared no expense—or perhaps the wealthy client who commissioned the job simply had money to burn. The cruise ship was luxuriously appointed, every corner steeped in classical styling that couldn't help but remind Wayne of that opulent train.
Judging by its two-hundred-passenger capacity, the Polaris was only a small cruise ship, but in actual dimensions it approached that of a medium-sized vessel. By limiting passenger numbers with exorbitant prices, it dedicated far more space to serving its guests.
The ship boasted restaurants, bars, a cinema, and even private physicians. From the captain down to the deckhands, every member of the crew was a seasoned mariner.
While boarding, Wayne had chatted briefly with the ticket collector and learned that the Polaris wasn't fully booked. Aside from a few tourists traveling to Dragon Heart Island, nearly the entire ship had been chartered by a deep-pocketed film crew.
At the mention of the film crew, the ticket collector had grown exceptionally animated, gleefully telling Wayne that there was a surprise waiting on the voyage ahead: a big-name star was on board, and if Wayne got lucky, the crew might even invite him to make a cameo as an extra.
What was so fun about playing a nameless extra? Real men became directors.
Wayne shrugged. There was no chance he'd ever direct and act in this life; detecting and investigating was more his speed.
Following the room numbers down the red-carpeted corridor, he found that aside from the crew members on watch, there really weren't many guests on this deck.
Even when people did pass by, they were bustling crew members rushing back and forth, their feet barely touching the ground as they hauled large trunks into cabins.
"Probably the actresses' wardrobe. Directors love that sort of thing."
A few men dressed in black like bodyguards approached from the opposite direction. Wayne tugged down the brim of his hat and politely stepped aside to let them pass.
He didn't manage to avoid them.
As they brushed past each other, a mustachioed man among them deliberately bumped Wayne's shoulder before swaggering away, strutting with arrogant, reckless disregard.
"What atrocious manners!"
Wayne rolled his eyes. But as soon as the words left his mouth, he realized with a jolt that the scene felt eerily familiar.
It wasn't merely familiar—it was practically identical, especially that cocky little mustache. Wayne suddenly recalled: back on the train, that mustachioed man had taken part in the robbery from start to finish. He was one of the bandits!
"Well, well, well. Debriefing a failed venture to launch a startup? Done robbing trains and moved on to cruise ships, have we?"
Wayne didn't know whether to laugh or cry. On one hand, he mourned for the citizens of Londan—these bandits had escaped from prison and returned to their old trade, yet no one had noticed them acting so brazenly. On the other hand, he found the mustachioed man hilarious: after going through all the trouble of breaking out of prison, he had walked right back into Wayne's hands.
Wayne didn't make a move himself. Taking advantage of the fact that the cruise ship hadn't set sail yet, he sought out the crew member standing guard and reported that the mustachioed man and his cohort were suspicious characters—repeat-offender bandits.
The guests on this ship were either rich or noble. The wealthy didn't throw wild accusations around lightly, and even if they did, it had to be handled with utmost care. The crewman immediately reported up the chain of command.
Before the cruise ship set sail, Wayne watched as several men in black were escorted away by police officers.
He raised a hand, tipped his hat, and silently saw them off.
*A good deed done, tip the hat and go, hiding both merit and fame!*
***
Wayne found his cabin. It was spacious, complete with a parlor sofa, wardrobe, and private bathroom, as well as an enormous bed large enough to sleep four people across.
A bouquet of roses sat on the bed. By all appearances, it was a couples' suite.
"What a shame. I should've agreed to let Villy come along."
Wayne picked up the roses and arranged them in a vase. Veronica had riding lessons arranged by his dear old father-in-law, while Chris had academic research courses at the academy; neither could get away.
Villy, on the other hand, was the quintessential idle youth. Aside from serving as the poster girl at the gym, she had nothing whatsoever to do in her spare time.
Learning Wayne was going to Dragon Heart Island for a vacation, she had eagerly raised her hand to sign up—only to be physically silenced by Veronica.
When she woke up, she seemed to have lost that memory entirely, completely forgetting about Dragon Heart Island.
Wayne hadn't brought it up again to her face. He quite enjoyed hanging out with Villy; she had no guard up around him and spoke her mind freely. Back when she had been a gym bro, they had roughed around and jostled each other; now, she was just as ready to hug and cling.
Wayne remained utterly passive throughout, receiving plenty of fan service from his good buddy.
Unfortunately, this buddy's family elders were far too enthusiastic—and there was more than one of them. Pull any one of them out, and they were massive behemoths. After weighing his options, Wayne concluded that staying passive was perfectly fine.
Wayne set down his suitcase, lay back on the sofa, and began to meditate. Once the cruise ship got underway, it would follow a set route northward around Windsor, sailing for two days before veering northeast directly toward its destination, Dragon Heart Island.
There were plenty of entertainment facilities on board, and one could even watch the film crew shoot, but Wayne had no intention of joining the crowd. He closed his eyes to meditate, attempting to commune with Nature.
With the cruise ship out at sea, Wayne closed his eyes and immediately felt a deluge of water elements rushing toward him. The concentration of wind elements was extraordinarily high, while earth and fire were comparatively scarce.
Out of caution, and to avoid alerting any other mages who might be on board, Wayne refrained from brandishing his tentacles to gather up the homeless "fellow townsfolk." Instead, as usual, he tried to shoot the breeze with big brother Nature.
He had never given up on this modest ambition.
Grinding, in word and deed, was simple enough: all one had to do was endure the loneliness!
Wayne wasn't someone inherently capable of enduring loneliness, but he had goals, possessed self-awareness, and was willing to bear it.
A man couldn't just look at the present; if you didn't endure loneliness now, loneliness was all you'd have left in the future.
The dull, tedious communication carried on for a long time. Wayne opened his eyes wearily. Outside the window, night had fallen deep, a sky full of stars arching above a full moon, with flecks of white ripples bobbing on the water.
He got up, took a quick rinse in the bathroom, changed into trousers and a white dress shirt, and slicked his damp hair back into a pompadour.
This was the look Fra had styled for him; aside from bearing a slight resemblance to Mr. Landau, there was nothing wrong with it.
Wayne patted his cheeks and looked at himself in the mirror. "Dressed to the nines—quite handsome."
Draping his suit jacket over his shoulder, he followed the map in the corridor down to the ship's bar and ordered a glass of fruit juice, four sandwiches, and a few snacks.
*Coming to a bar and not drinking alcohol—what an odd customer!*
The bartender offered a polite smile. The customer was God the Father, after all, so he fulfilled all of Wayne's requests and reminded him of the restaurant's operating hours. All expenses were covered by the ticket; if Wayne wished, the dining staff could deliver food straight to his cabin.
Soft music drifted through the bar, and the lighting was pleasantly bright. Aside from Wayne, only a handful of guests sat in pairs.
All couples.
As the sole bachelor dog in the room, Wayne sped up his eating, scarfing down the sandwiches before moving on to the snacks.
The bartender offered a complimentary cocktail, but Wayne turned it down. Alcohol impaired judgment; fruit juice was just fine.
Just then, members of the film crew arrived. A bearded director wearing a hat directed the set dressing, and within a mere five minutes, they had assembled a temporary shooting area.
Having never seen a film set before, Wayne stayed out of curiosity to watch.
Before long, the leading actress made her entrance in a flowing white gown—wavy blonde curls, stunning crimson lips, and breathtaking charm.
Strictly speaking, her dress wasn't revealing—it could even be called modest. Yet her aura balanced sensuality and innocence with astonishing versatility. With that rich, alluring makeup, she turned utterly dazzling, exuding a sultry allure that seeped from her very bones.
Wayne's eyes went wide.
Familiar!
When he had first transmigrated here, his room had been plastered with posters of this very starlet.
Not just posters, but also a certain "spellcasting textbook." Its contents had been so aggressively critical and imaginative that Wayne had marveled at it: his predecessor shouldn't have been a detective—he should have become a novelist.
A century later, who was to say he wouldn't have been hailed as a literary titan?
Wayne had a vivid impression of this actress and remembered her name clearly: Lily Hayworth. She was primarily a singer who occasionally took on movie roles.
"A surprise indeed..."
Wayne raised his glass of juice with trembling hands. Perhaps it was his predecessor's muscle memory, but seeing his idol in the flesh made his hands itch to do something.
On the impromptu set, the director was walking Lily through the scene, but trouble soon arose.
The actor cast as the third male lead hadn't made it aboard. The crew had been frantic all day, and only when shooting was about to begin did they realize an actor was missing.
"Lost?"
"What do you mean, *lost*?"
"How do you lose the third male lead? Why didn't you leave your brains behind in Londan?! These scenes are crucial—they rely entirely on the third lead to highlight the heroine's inner strength! Where am I supposed to find someone now?!" The director went full hairdryer mode, roaring at his underlings.
Oho, an accident!
Wayne gleefully enjoyed the spectacle. After one surprise came an even bigger one. This trip was already well worth it—a total bargain.
Across the room, the leading lady, Lily, lowered her script and told the director to calm down. They were shooting a monster movie; even the second male lead was practically expendable, let alone the third lead with his handful of scenes. Any crew member could easily fill in.
The director found that reasonable. Pointing at his own broad face, he asked, "Lily, do you think I could play the third lead?"
Lily rolled her eyes and gave him no face whatsoever. "Wallace, the third lead is a handsome young man. Visually, he at least has to be pleasant on the eyes alongside the heroine. Your face would pull the audience right out of the movie."
Director Wallace silently mourned the missed opportunity. The third lead had a bed scene with the heroine, something he had been eagerly looking forward to.
Nothing for it. Tonight, he'd just have to discuss the script with the supporting actress instead.
Wallace picked out several presentable young men from the crew, but Lily rejected them one by one. Either they were too tall, too fat, or too bald—not a single one made the cut.
Wallace threw his hands up. "Then you tell me what to do. Our shooting schedule is tight, and we have to finish the scenes on the cruise ship."
Lily scanned the room. Ignoring several men puffing out their chests beside their girlfriends, she lifted a finger and pointed at the lone bachelor dog, Wayne.
"Him."
"Him?!"
Wallace turned to look. His looks were passable—maybe a tiny bit handsomer than himself—but ordinary people couldn't act. If he botched it, wouldn't that be a waste of time?
"If it doesn't go well, we can just do more takes tonight," Lily said briskly.
"Fine by me. As long as you don't mind getting pinned down..."
Wallace muttered sourly, then hurried over to Wayne's table and planted himself down next to him. "Wallace, director of the film *King Kong*. And who might you be, sir?"
"Wayne."
Wayne looked at the bearded director with astonishment. *King what? That giant gorilla swatting planes atop the Empire State Building?*
Holy crap, a cinema classic!
Wayne inwardly exclaimed what a bargain this was. This world had no Bald Eagle, and hence no Empire State Building; he wondered where the gorilla would swat planes. If it was the Eiffel Tower, he'd advise the director to hurry up—in a couple of years, the Franks wouldn't be the ones calling the shots on that tower anymore.
"Here's the situation, Mr. Wayne. Due to certain unforeseen circumstances, our production urgently needs a handsome actor for the third male lead. Would you be interested?"
"You have sharp eyes, Director!"
"Heh..."
Wallace looked at him with envy. "Don't be in such a rush to agree. The third lead has a passionate scene playing opposite Miss Lily Hayworth over there."
*All the more reason to rush and say yes!*
Feeling the envious, jealous, and spiteful glares from the men around them, Wayne took a sip of juice to steady his nerves. "Director Wallace, I don't know how to act, and I'm not an actor. For a role as important as the third lead, are you sure I can handle it?"
"Of course. In the script, the third lead is one of the heroine's suitors—handsome on the outside, but dark and sinister on the inside. After being rejected, he decides to force himself on her. You look like a natural fit."
Wallace's words were cutting. "Trust me, I'm very good at coaching young actors. When we shoot later, just hold back a little and you'll be playing yourself."
Wayne: ( ﾟдﾟ)
*You look like a director with that beard, so why are you talking such utter nonsense? Look at this face, this demeanor—I'm the picture of a righteous hero! How on earth would playing a lecher be 'playing myself'?*
*I'll give you one more chance to rephrase that, or tonight you're accidentally falling overboard.*
Wayne issued an internal cement-barrel warning, but Wallace was only getting more into his stride: "Actually, don't overthink it. It doesn't matter if you have zero acting skills. That's the great beauty Lily Hayworth! Your main scenes with her are in bed, plus the parlor and hallway. Faced with her, any normal man can do a great job playing a pervert."
*What you say makes so much sense, I can't even refute it!*
"If the crew is truly short on people, I suppose I can do it..."
Wayne agonized for a tiny 0.1 seconds, figuring that if he didn't take the role, it would only benefit the other men present—especially the director, who kept stroking his beard and was almost certainly contemplating shaving it off to step into the role himself.
*Ptui, shameless!*
His mind was full of vulgar filth, looking for every chance to take advantage of beauties. Not like Wayne: to uphold the butler's elegant teachings, protect a lady from being groped by lechers, and fulfill his predecessor's dream of sharing a bed with her, Wayne was sacrificing himself with tears in his eyes.
"Er, are there any kissing scenes?" Wayne asked, eager as he accepted the script.
"Don't get your hopes up. Lily has strict requirements; kissing scenes are filmed using forced perspective."
"..."
*What the heck? Lacking the dedication to sacrifice for art, with no self-cultivation as an actor whatsoever—completely unprofessional!*
Wayne flipped through the script. The first male lead was the giant gorilla; the second lead was a timid-looking cuckold; the third lead was a lecher; and everyone after that was an extra.
The third lead really didn't have much screentime. Aside from an initial heroic, upright appearance where he was dressed impeccably and acted like a gentleman, the rest of his scenes consisted of tearing the heroine's dress in every conceivable way, chasing her from the corridor straight into the bedroom, grappling the whole time until the second lead arrived to save the day.
In his final appearance, the third lead turned over a new leaf, courageously protecting the heroine—only to be stomped flat by the giant gorilla.
Indeed, King Kong was the villain in this film. There was no tragic, beautiful interspecies romance—only a giant monster with a hobby of collecting blonde figurines.
Wayne felt a twinge of regret over taking the script. For his silver screen debut, if the audience typecast him and permanently slapped the label of "pervert" onto him, how was he supposed to expand his acting range in the future?
Oh, wait—he wasn't going to act in the future anyway. No problem, then.
*Wuuuuumph—*
Suddenly, the cruise ship's horn blared violently, and a heavy, gloomy aura permeated the air.
Cries of alarm from the sailors echoed outside the bar. For some unknown reason, the cruise ship had ground to a sudden halt.
Wayne frowned, catching the scent of a dense darkness in the air. Following the crowd out onto the deck, he spotted a black sailing ship drifting slowly closer through the thick night.
*Creak!*
*Creeeak—*
The dilapidated, rotting hull was riddled with holes, its black sails swaying in the wind, pulling at the masts to emit an eerie, bloodcurdling creak...
Chapter 90