Renly stared fixedly at Vin, his deep brown eyes unblinking, radiating resolute and sharp brilliance, much like a hawk, piercing toward Vin without flinching.
Ridicule.
Within those eyes, Vin discerned the mockery and sarcasm, as if ridiculing his weakness, his hesitation, and his cowardice. Even while at an absolute disadvantage, those eyes still emitted an aura of immense strength. They were relentless, fearless, and indomitable. This reminded Vin once again of that nightmare, the nightmare of the parking lot scene. Standing before Renly, he seemed like a shivering clown, a ludicrous and ridiculous clown.
Shame surged from the soles of his feet to his forehead, engulfing him. Impulse burnt away his rationality, and the iron wrench came crashing down.
"Ah!" Gal involuntarily gasped, clutching her mouth tightly, fearing her scream would break free from its confines. She wanted to shut her eyes, turn her head away, but every muscle in her body had stiffened. Even her eyeballs couldn't move; she could only gaze unblinkingly, her dry eyes growing moist. Fear and panic caused her to bite down on her lower lip, yet it was futile.
Paul was flabbergasted, utterly so. He had completely forgotten about the ongoing filming. Both he and Jordana were still within the camera's frame. He stood dumbfounded, watching the two before him, observing Vin's bloodshot eyes spiraling out of control, watching the iron wrench plummet like thunder. This unforeseen accident was so impactful that it caused Paul's brain to crash. He even forgot to intervene and defuse the crisis.
In the blink of an eye, a "clang" resonated. In the hushed studio, the sound reverberated. Sparks of metal hitting concrete flew, emitting a faint smell of sulfur. The pungent scent made hearts momentarily cease beating.
Justin swallowed a mouthful of saliva, only to find his mouth exceedingly dry. His throat was burning, and even his eyeballs had stiffened. Renly was unharmed. Renly was unharmed. Renly hadn't been turned into a smashed watermelon, his brain matter and blood splattered everywhere. Renly was unharmed. Renly was alright.
Upon realizing this, Justin's knees gave way, and he sank onto the director's chair. However, he couldn't find his balance and toppled over, sitting on the ground. Blood and his heart had both stopped working. Even his soul had frozen. Intense post-traumatic fear surged forth, almost like he had circled death's edge, returning from hell to heaven.
Renly was unharmed.
This was Justin's sole thought now. He could finally feel his heartbeat again within his chest.
Renly's expression remained unchanged. The wound on his cheekbone split once more. This time, it wasn't just a graze. It looked truly gruesome. The blood seemed to have dried up, imparting an iron-blooded and sinister air to his handsome face. Despite it all, the profound eyes remained locked onto Vin's, and that bloodthirsty aura gradually spread. Even in the face of imminent death, there was no wavering.
Vin felt a chilling terror. Shame had vanished. A terror engulfed him, causing his blood to plummet to freezing point. His muscles stiffened to the point of immobility. There was no fear, no wavering, not even panic. That reckless madness of facing death head-on sent shivers down the spine. In the final moment, his grip weakened.
The wrench veered off course, or perhaps it was from the moment he swung downwards, he hadn't aimed for Renly's head. He was afraid. He was afraid of his hands being stained with blood, afraid of those eyes that were hauntingly familiar. In this face-to-face, iron-blooded clash, he became the one who retreated.
And so, the wrench struck the ground beside, releasing all the anger, shame, and timidity in one full blow. The impact created a shallow pit in the ground, and the recoil made his palms tingle. Yet, none of this mattered anymore because within Renly's eyes, he didn't catch a glimpse of the victorious exhilaration; there was only tranquility. That tranquility seemed to mock his timidity and feebleness.
Lunatic, Renly was a lunatic.
Vin used his hands to support his body as he quickly crawled backward, increasing the distance between him and Renly. Deep-seated terror manifested in his eyes. "Jesus Christ," he involuntarily murmured. Intense fear pulled at his ankles, dragging him down. He just wanted to get away, far away from that lunatic.
He could deal with a tough guy, a coward, even a woman. But he didn't want to deal with a lunatic. No one wanted to deal with a lunatic.
Renly could vividly sense the exhilaration of dancing on death's edge, the thrill, the fear, the panic. Sweat oozed from his palms and the soles of his feet. But the adrenaline that surged ceaselessly gave him a taste of real exhilaration – the exhilaration of conquering, of challenging, and of freedom.
It reminded him of his moments of bare-handed rock climbing. Balancing between heaven and hell, traversing between life and nature, the precarious steel cables swaying. A slight negligence could lead to shattered bones. Every muscle in his body was stretched to its limit. His focus was laser-sharp, drowning out the clamor of the world, leaving only himself, the heartbeat, the rustling wind, and the sunlight.
In that moment of success, joy erupted like a volcano.
Just now, he felt that emotion once again. In a daze, he sensed Hobbs' toughness, and he felt the excitement and intensity. He even sensed the boundary between actor and character completely dissolve. Everything became blurry yet crystal clear, with only freedom – absolute freedom. The sensation was like leaping from a two-thousand-foot height, the feeling of free fall, the wind piercing through every corner of his body.
In that moment, he felt alive. Truly alive. Even if he brushed against the Grim Reaper.
Hormones seemed to blend into his bloodstream, coursing through him rapidly. Adrenaline fireworks bloomed incessantly. His state reached an unprecedented peak. Not only was he unafraid, but he also wanted to experience it again. He decided that during his vacation, he would learn martial arts, not the ornamental kind, but the real, unadulterated kind.
Slowly straightening his body, Renly gazed at Vin before him, his lips curling into a faint smile. "A pleasant collaboration."
If it hadn't been for Vin's loss of control, Renly wouldn't have been able to push himself to his limits. It's no wonder they say that a skilled actor in a scene partner makes for a perfect performance.
Throughout the previous shots, Renly hadn't truly grasped this. Who would've thought that in an action movie, he, Renly, would experience this sensation for the first time, acting alongside the completely unskilled Vin Diesel?
Nevertheless, this time it was merely a physical confrontation. Next time, he wanted to test the limits of the exhilaration brought by acting.
Upon hearing Renly's words, Vin felt as if he had encountered a ghost. Before his brain could react, he retreated hastily, practically fleeing. His back finally met the wall, and only then did he stop. But by now, Vin had ceased to care about this. He only wanted to distance himself from Renly, to get far away.
Renly, on the other hand, paid no heed to Vin's reaction. He stood up, clapping his hands to rid them of dust. Then he surveyed the silent set where everyone seemed frozen like mannequins, utterly motionless. Renly didn't quite understand the situation, his gaze sweeping around. He then cleared his throat gently. "I didn't hear the sound of "Cut". So... should we do another take?"
Another take?
"...No, no," Justin sputtered, sinking to the ground, repeatedly waving his hands. "Absolutely not. I thought it was great. That last take was really good. Truly excellent. If you don't believe me, just look at the playback. It's fantastic, perfect! No need for another take, absolutely not. One take is enough, more than enough."
Lunatic, a complete lunatic.
This was Vin's only thought. From now on, he just wanted to stay as far away from that lunatic as possible. If the lunatic wanted to commit suicide, so be it. He didn't want to get involved. A wonderful life awaited him, piles of earnings, heaps of beautiful women. A true lunatic.
Nathan finally snapped back to reality, walking briskly over and scrutinizing Renly up and down. "Do you need to wash your face? It's covered in blood." Nathan said calmly, "And your clothes, they're stained with blood too. For continuity's sake, should you change into a new set? Oh, right, you should sit down and rest a bit. Rest, the shoot isn't over, not over yet."
It was only at this point that Nathan's brain finally caught up with the events. He realized what had just occurred. In that critical moment, Renly had nearly died right in front of him. Fear, relief, panic, joy erupted all at once. Then Nathan broke down completely. Tears couldn't be restrained, rolling down in big drops.
Nathan raised his hands, attempting to wipe away the tears, but his fingers trembled incessantly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." He shouldn't have lost his composure like this. He was just an assistant, an observer. He shouldn't have been this emotionally unstable. Yet, all his words were trapped in his throat, unable to escape. He kept apologizing, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
Watching Nathan on the brink of a breakdown, Renly chuckled softly, finding it more amusing the longer he looked. Then he took a handkerchief from Nathan's hand and handed it back to him. "I think you need it more than I do."
"I'm sorry." It seemed Nathan only knew this phrase. His brain couldn't function properly. He wiped his disheveled cheeks with effort, forcing himself to pause. This wasn't about him now; Renly was the one that mattered most. "You... hiccup." His words were interrupted by a hiccup, and Nathan clenched his teeth, forcing himself to calm down, directing all his attention back to Renly. "What do you need? *Hiccup*. I mean, hot water? Ice? Coffee? Candy? Or something else? Or do you need rest? Do you need a good rest?"
"A cigarette. Please give me a cigarette."