Vin Diesel was furious, utterly furious. He could see the disdain, contempt, and scorn in those eyes. The condescending scrutiny and appraisal seemed to penetrate his skin, mocking his disheveled state and insignificance with no restraint. Shame surged from his feet to his head, nearly causing him to lose control.
His gaze was fixed on the man before him, and the flames of anger began to burn fiercely. His hands clenched into fists, his muscles brimming with explosive power. His body trembled slightly as though he was on the verge of charging forward at any moment, pounding the other into a pulp. His breath felt like a thread, teetering on the edge of life and death. This was true torment!
The smile at the corner of Hobbs' mouth gradually faded away. All expressions disappeared from his face, replaced by solemnity and dominance. His eyes turned sharp, his gaze piercing through Dominic like a sword, the swift transformation altering the rhythm of the atmosphere. The tightening of emotions caused the onlookers' breaths to unconsciously ease and even halt.
"You turn around and put your hands behind your back," Hobbs' voice remained unruffled, but the commanding tone in each word left no room for argument, descending like an overwhelming tide.
Dominic slowly turned around, one step, then another. Each step felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, as if he was accumulating his momentum, ready to strike the opponent head-on. His words almost squeezed through his clenched teeth, "I don't think so!"
Yet, unexpectedly, Hobbs took a big step forward, closing the distance between them to zero instantly. The imposing stance made Dominic's steps momentarily halt in surprise, his eyes betraying a glimpse of unanticipated panic. He clearly hadn't expected this. His eyes showed his real emotions, forcing him to tense every muscle and exert all his effort to prevent himself from losing balance. However, the pent-up fury soon erupted.
Before Dominic could utter another word, Hobbs' reprimand came crashing down like a torrential rain, "Your mistake is thinking you got a goddamn choice, boy."
Hobbs' footsteps didn't move, but his upper body slightly straightened. His dominant severity seemed to hit Dominic's head squarely, like a heavy blow. His gaze crushed down, as if scrutinizing fish on a chopping board. The absolute dominance froze the surrounding air solidly. The focus on Dominic was unwavering, not allowing any deviation. Even the slightest movement could crush him.
The whole scene fell into absolute silence.
Vin's mind was suddenly overwhelmed by a system malfunction. The boundaries between reality and illusion blurred entirely. He could even sense the smell of blood in the air, the cruelty and dominance of a knife's edge licking blood, pressing down mercilessly. It was an overwhelming hurricane that robbed him of his breath, leaving him stunned in place. He couldn't react; he couldn't even move a single finger. He was utterly immobilized, like a puppet with its spring removed.
Justin stood at the side, looking anxious.
The Vin before his eyes appeared normal—or at least that's what his eyes saw. Vin's muscles were taut, his hands clenched into fists, his gaze fixed on Paul. His poised stance was absolutely perfect. But Justin could smell the gunpowder in the air. The imminent tension and stiffness accelerated the heartbeat. Dimly, he sensed that Paul was gaining the upper hand, his rapidly rising dominance truly frightening. It made people instinctively hold their breath.
This is a great thing, a tremendous blessing.
In the first half, Hobbs was assertive and domineering, and then Dominic fought back without showing any weakness. The chemistry of their clash was the perfect scene that Justin had envisioned. This version of Hobbs couldn't be more perfect!
However, the atmosphere stiffened at this point, as if suddenly jammed.
According to the script's trajectory, Dominic was supposed to remind Hobbs powerfully that they were in Brazil, not the United States. Dominic had the home advantage here. Then, all the extras were supposed to raise their prop guns and surround the small group that Hobbs brought with him, instantly shifting the dynamics. Hobbs, even unwilling, would have to retreat.
Now, Vin seemed as if he had lost consciousness, completely frozen in place. Forget about delivering his lines, he didn't even show the slightest reaction. It was as if... as if he had been overwhelmed by Paul's overwhelming dominance, completely stuck in a state of shock.
Deep within Justin, a sense of foreboding crept in: "Could it be... Could it be that Vin lost in this dominance battle?"
Impossible! Justin immediately dismissed this absurd thought. Vin was not only a producer but also the absolute protagonist. Not to mention his absolute confidence in himself, even when facing Dwayne, Vin wouldn't easily back down, despite the substantial difference in their physiques. And this was just against Paul, let alone someone like Dwayne. In terms of physical confrontations, Vin was supremely confident.
So, in a battle of dominance, did Vin lose? Impossible!
Then, what exactly was happening before him?
Hobbs loomed over Dominic with a condescending gaze. His deep eyes sparkled with a glint of mockery and disdain, as if he were looking at a fallen clown. There was no movement at the corners of his mouth, yet he seemed to carry a barely discernible smile. His contemptuous and scornful expression revealed itself inadvertently. His overwhelmingly dominant aura had taken control of the entire scene, as if Dominic was an ant caught in a giant's palm, futile in any effort or struggle.
Justin thought it was his own misconception, yet his rational mind was telling him it was the truth. Everything was happening right now. His gaze fell on Vin, one second, two seconds, three seconds... Vin remained silent, completely motionless. It was as if he couldn't even muster the slightest struggle, thoroughly frozen in place.
Yes, frozen.
In this dominance battle, not only had Vin lost, but he also had no room for any sophistry. He was utterly overwhelmed.
"Cut!" Realizing this, Justin had to interrupt the filming. His crisp shout shattered the enchanting chemistry on set, and the suffocating air showed a faint crack, allowing cool oxygen to flow once more.
Anger, blazing fury, rising to the heavens, unstoppable anger, reaching its zenith, a towering rage!
Vin felt his blood boiling throughout his body. Shame, indescribable shame! He had just... just frozen in place, completely suppressed. He couldn't even move a finger. In his entire acting career, when had he ever suffered such humiliation? And to think it was in a physical confrontation!
He clenched his fists, finally realizing that his fists had been clenched the entire time. Muscles stretched to their limit, releasing copious amounts of lactic acid. He could now feel the exhaustion and soreness creeping in. With a fierce scowl, he swung his fists, wanting to deliver a powerful blow to Paul. He didn't care about on-set harmony or parachutes at this moment. He just wanted to vent his frustration and give Paul a lesson he wouldn't forget!
However, before his fists could swing, his muscles began to twitch. The prolonged tension abruptly collapsed, leaving his muscles somewhat numb. Forget about exerting force, maintaining his stance was immensely difficult. He actually stumbled half a step backward.
Not forward, but backward.
If he had moved forward, he would have crashed right into Paul's embrace... Thank goodness, he had moved backward. But he had moved backward! He wanted to teach Paul a lesson and ended up tripping over himself, retreating half a step. God, he could just slit his throat and commit suicide right now, completely exit Hollywood. Such unbearable shame would forever haunt him, like a shadow.
The sound of "Cut" echoed in his ears, yet Paul showed no intention of letting up. His gaze followed Vin, his entire body on alert. He was like an agile and elegant panther, prepared to counterstrike at any moment. Unexpectedly, Vin raised his hand, then stumbled back a half step, catching Paul off guard. He didn't anticipate this development, which was quite... comical.
Paul strongly suspected whether Vin had intentionally displayed such a sorry state to ease the tension on set. However, Paul thought the possibility was minuscule. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. With a soft chuckle, he didn't say much and turned to leave.
"Paul!" Suddenly, urgent shouts echoed behind him.
Numerous speculations flashed through Paul's mind, as did countless strategies. Though his rational mind judged swiftly, he reflexively turned around, not retreating but stepping forward half a step. Just as he expected, Vin charged towards him. However, Vin had once again miscalculated Paul's reaction. He had to brake abruptly; otherwise, they would be too close, and his punch wouldn't be effective.
But unexpectedly, that abrupt brake halted his entire momentum.
Paul surged forward half a step, like a tiger descending a hill. With a cold smile, he uttered, "Next scene." The implicit message was clear: you were absolutely terrible in the previous scene, so perform better in the next.
This sharp taunt was delivered amidst a powerful aura. Vin's center of gravity hadn't even stabilized, yet he faced Paul's relentless advance. Vin felt as if Paul were a towering giant, his overwhelming momentum completely suppressing him. Not to mention counterattacking, he struggled to even support his body and prevent himself from falling. He exerted every ounce of strength.
Seeing the cold disdain in Paul's eyes, Vin's rage froze instantly, just like encountering a Siberian gust of wind head-on, crystallizing into ice. He stood there, frozen, like a trembling cub hiding in a cave, fearful and uneasy. He couldn't muster any response, only watched as Paul turned and left. Paul's straight, imposing figure was like a blade piercing through the sky, sharp and piercing.
Vin's knees buckled, causing him to stumble backward half a step once again, narrowly avoiding the ignominy of crashing to the ground. Such a pitiable sight.