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69: The Fury
publish date:
2026-09-22 22:16:11
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(BL) Transmigrated as the Alpha's Cannon Fodder. 86: The review
"Masterpiece," Liang said. "Eleven outlets used the word before nine in the morning." He set the tablet on the kitchen counter and stepped back as though it might go off. Outside the windows the estate was gray with early rain. Zhan stood at the stove in yesterday's shirt, attempting eggs, and did not turn around. "Eleven," he said. "Twelve. A thirteenth is deciding." "That is a lot of masterpieces." "It is the correct amount," Huo Yan said from the doorway. He had a cup in his hand and the look of a man who had already read everything twice. "A masterpiece is not rare in headlines. It is rare in memory." "That is a very Huo Yan answer," Zhan said. "Thank you." "It was not a compliment." "I took it as one." He crossed to the counter and tapped the tablet awake. "Read the second paragraph of the first one." "I am cooking." "You are burning," Huo Yan said. "Give me the spatula." Zhan surrendered the spatula. He picked up the tablet and read. The film is a thriller about betr
(BL) Transmigrated as the Alpha's Cannon Fodder. 85: The Premiere
"Hold still," the stylist said. "You keep breathing." "I need to breathe," Zhan said. "Breathe smaller." Zhan stood in the middle of the estate's dressing room with his arms slightly out from his sides like a man being measured for something permanent. The jacket was midnight black, cut so precisely that it seemed to have been poured onto him. The shirt underneath was the color of old ivory. The shoes had cost, he had been told, more than the entire contents of his apartment in the other life. He had made the mistake of asking the number. He had not asked again. Wen Ru leaned in the doorway with a glass of something pink. "He looks like a person who owns a yacht." "I do not own a yacht," Zhan said. "You look like you might be persuaded to buy one." "That is not comforting." "It was not meant to be." She sipped. "It was meant to be accurate." Chen Bo appeared behind her in a suit that fit him as though he had been wearing it for years. He had, Zhan realized, been wearing suits
(BL) Transmigrated as the Alpha's Cannon Fodder. 84: New Enemy
"He bought the Hartwell option," Liang said. Huo Yan did not look up from the cut he was reviewing. "Which Hartwell option." "The adaptation. The one you developed for two years before the production started." Liang set a folder on the editing bay desk. "It lapsed in March. Your team let it lapse because the studio deal required exclusivity. Someone picked it up eleven days later." "Who." "A production entity called Meridian Row. Registered fourteen months ago. Three employees on paper." Zhan, sitting in the corner chair with a script he had stopped reading, watched Huo Yan's hand pause on the mouse. Barely. A half second. "What else," Huo Yan said. "The Okafor novel. The Ravenscroft script. The documentary rights you were circling last winter." Liang opened the folder. "Seven projects. All lapsed or soft-held. All acquired by the same entity within five months." "Legal," Huo Yan said. "Entirely. Every filing is clean." "Who is behind Meridian Row." "The registration lists a
(BL) Transmigrated as the Alpha's Cannon Fodder. 83: Chen Bo's Decision
"There's a way back," Chen Bo said. He said it standing in the doorway of the small sitting room, not coming in, with the particular stillness of someone who had been carrying a sentence for hours and had finally set it down where another person could see it. It was seven in the morning. The estate was quiet. The interview had been out for six days and the press was still circling it, and Zhan had been sitting with a cold cup of tea and a stack of fan mail Liang had sorted into piles, reading none of it. He put the tea down. "Back," he said. "To where I came from." Chen Bo stepped in and closed the door. "I did not go looking for it. It found me." "Sit," Zhan said. Chen Bo sat. He did not lean back. He sat on the edge of the chair with his hands on his knees, the posture of a man who had spent three years being careful with his own body and had not yet unlearned it. "Last night," he said. "Around two. I was in my room. Nothing dramatic, no sound, no light. I was reading."
(BL) Transmigrated as the Alpha's Cannon Fodder. 82: The Interview
"What do I say about the old Zhan," Zhan said. Huo Yan looked up from the table where they had been sitting for two hours with a legal pad between them, a pot of tea gone cold, and the interview request printed out and annotated in three colors. "What do you want to say about him." "I do not know what I am allowed to say." "You are allowed to say anything that is true." "That is the problem," Zhan said. "I can only say the parts of the truth that sound like a person recovering from a hard year. Not the parts that sound like a person who arrived from somewhere else." "Then say the first kind," Huo Yan said. "Carefully. Shen Qi will hear the shape of the second kind underneath it. She is that good. She will not print what she cannot prove, and she will not push on what you decline to give her. But she will know you are declining." "That is not reassuring." "It is accurate," Huo Yan said. "Reassurance is for people who do not have to sit across from her." Zhan pulled the l
(BL) Transmigrated as the Alpha's Cannon Fodder. 81: The Film Is Real
"They're calling it the surprise of the year," Liang said. He set the tablet on the kitchen counter between Zhan and Huo Yan with the specific neutrality of a man delivering information he had already processed and filed. Three days into post-production and the estate had settled into a different rhythm. No call sheets at dawn. No crew moving through the corridors. Just the editing bay running at all hours and the press running at all hours and the two of them in the middle of it, eating breakfast like people who had not been the subject of every entertainment desk in the country since Friday. Zhan looked at the screen. A headline. Then another. Then a third, scrolling past faster than he could read. "What is the surprise," he said. "You," Liang said. "Me." "The headline writers are not subtle." Liang tapped the screen. "The Tabloid Omega Who Stole The Film. From Scandal To Standout. The Zhan Nobody Saw Coming." Huo Yan reached over and took the tablet. Read for a momen
(BL) Transmigrated as the Alpha's Cannon Fodder. 4:The Gilded Cage
The words on the single sheet of paper felt like they were crawling off the page and burrowing into my skin. "In all matters professional and private." It wasn't a contract; it was a receipt. I was now the property of Huo Yan, and the terms were non-negotiable. My hand, the traitorous limb, was st
(BL) Transmigrated as the Alpha's Cannon Fodder. 3:The Devil's Contract
He didn't drag me. That was the terrifying part. His grip on my wrist was firm, but he walked with a calm, unhurried pace, as if we were simply taking a stroll. It was the confidence of a man who knew his prey wasn't going to run. Mostly because I couldn't. My legs were moving, but my brain was sti
(BL) Transmigrated as the Alpha's Cannon Fodder. 2: The Predator's Interest
His finger on my chin was a brand. It was a question and a threat all at once, and my brain, the poor, overworked thing, was having a complete system shutdown. I was supposed to be groveling, pathetic, forgettable. I was not supposed to be intriguing. This was a critical script error. "They told
(BL) Transmigrated as the Alpha's Cannon Fodder. 1: I Woke Up as the Idiot
The last thing I remember with any sort of pathetic clarity is the taste of cheap ramen and the blinding glare of a truck's high beams. Classic, right? A real gourmet-meets-grim-reaper special. In my defense, I was multitasking. As a struggling actor whose biggest role to date was "Background Custo
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