The Return of the Cannon Fodder Trillion Heiress - Chapter 550

Chapter 550: Chapter 550 Hera’s Turn
As Hera stepped inside, she immediately noticed the atmosphere—everyone was deep in conversation, as if a decision had already been made.

She couldn’t help but recall the faces of the candidates outside; they looked utterly defeated, resigned to the fact that a newcomer had outshone them.

Even those who had been vocal just moments ago, complaining and venting their frustrations, had fallen silent.

It was clear to all that Director Nick had shown little interest in anyone after Alice’s impressive performance.

Alice had left a lasting impression, and it seemed almost certain that she would land the female lead role, a fact that was now undeniable to everyone in the room.

Hera slowly made her way toward the small stage, her steps measured and deliberate.

As she did, she caught a fleeting glimpse of Xavier, his intense gaze fixed on her like that of a hawk, as if he were memorizing every movement, every nuance of her presence.

“Scene 26 to 27!” Director Nick said absentmindedly, his eyes flicking over to Hera’s clean and innocent face.

For a moment, he was caught off guard by her appearance. His gaze shifted to the printed profile resting in front of him, and he scanned it briefly.

Hera was different from Alice. Both shared an innocent aura, but while Alice exuded a fiery intensity, Hera radiated an elegance and grace that seemed to belong to a different world.

It was a stark contrast to the image of the heroine he had envisioned for the film.

A wave of confusion crossed his mind—what was someone like her even doing at the audition?

It seemed impossible that she could embody the role, let alone portray the fiery, cold, and indifferent character he had in mind.

At least Alice had that fiery intensity, a quality that somewhat aligned with the action-packed, fierce nature of the heroine—far closer to what the role demanded along with the cold, indifferent demeanor that was ingrained in the character’s very essence.

However, as Director Nick glanced down at Hera’s profile and saw the words “Phantom, Race’s Champion, personally invited by Director Nick,” his entire body stiffened.

He looked up at Hera, his gaze sharpening.

The others, still preoccupied with discussing Alice, didn’t seem to notice his shift in attention.

While their voices weren’t loud, they weren’t exactly subtle either, and their conversation drifted to Hera’s ears.

Hearing the conversations around him, Director Nick expected Hera to become disheartened like the other candidates.

He remembered how she looked when she was driving the other day—so different from the woman standing before him now.

If not for her refined temperament and her almost ethereal features, he might have easily dismissed her, just like the others.

He was already leaning towards Alice, but now, something about Hera piqued his interest. However, he wasn’t given much time to dwell on it.

Hera’s innocent and elegant aura shifted the moment she heard the Director’s instructions.

Her expression changed instantly, but unlike Alice, who had a partner to assist her, no one stepped onto the stage to help Hera.

Instead, Xavier rose from his seat, capturing the attention of everyone in the room.

All eyes followed him as he moved.

By this time, Hera had already bent down, her posture slumped with confusion.

She looked dazed—more puzzled and angry than fearful—her emotions clear as she struggled to understand what was happening.

After all, she had just supposedly witnessed people close to her being killed and torn apart in front of her.

Hera stared at her clean hands, as though they were stained with the blood of those lost.

A cold, seething anger simmered beneath her skin, as if the flashbacks of the gruesome events were playing relentlessly in her mind.

Xavier, now on stage, seamlessly slipped into his role.

His expression became one of exhaustion, as though he had been running nonstop until they reached a point where they could momentarily rest.

The entire room fell silent, captivated by the raw intensity of Xavier and Hera’s performance.

The atmosphere shifted, as if the audience had been transported into the scene itself.

They could almost see the protagonists, drenched in sweat and blood, their eyes flickering with a range of emotions.

Without a single word exchanged, the room was filled with unspoken feelings—tension, grief, and desperation.

Hera’s once-innocent expression began to crack, and in that moment, her naive view of the world seemed to slowly crumble.

It was in the subtle shift of her gaze, the slight tremor of her movements, that the audience could feel the transformation of her character.

Every small action spoke volumes.

Despite Xavier’s impeccable skill, Hera held her own.

She wasn’t overshadowed. Instead, there was an undeniable harmony between them, a silent chemistry that enhanced their portrayal of the scene.

The acting was so raw, so real, that the room seemed to vibrate with emotion.

As the scene unfolded, a wave of excitement, sorrow, and pain washed over the viewers, each feeling a shiver down their spine as they connected with the intense, palpable emotions of the two protagonists.

The room was so absorbed in their performance that no one could pinpoint when the acting had stopped.

Slowly, Hera and Xavier’s expressions returned to normal.

Hera’s once cold, indifferent eyes shifted, transforming into sparkling orbs—bright and intense, like stars descending to earth.

Her gaze radiated warmth, and with a gentle smile, she bowed to the room.

A small bead of sweat formed on her forehead, a subtle reminder of the intensity of the scene.

In that instant, the heroine of the movie faded away, replaced by Hera, the actress herself.

The shift in her demeanor was so striking that it snapped everyone out of their reverie, leaving them momentarily stunned.

The rawness of her transformation had been so seamless that the line between character and performer had blurred, leaving a lasting impression on everyone in the room.

Hera had perfectly embodied the role of the heroine, so much so that it felt as though the very character the Director had envisioned had truly come to life.

For a moment, it was as if the heroine herself had descended into the room, standing before them, breathing, and living.

The transformation was so complete that it was hard to distinguish where the character ended and Hera began.

“Yes! That’s it! She’s my heroine!!” Director Nick exclaimed, leaping from his seat so abruptly that his chair toppled behind him.

The sudden movement startled everyone, but it was quickly followed by a burst of applause.

No one objected when the Director announced that Hera would be chosen for the role.

It was clear to everyone in the room that there was something distinct in Hera’s performance—a subtle yet undeniable difference in how she brought the character to life.

It was the kind of depth and authenticity that set her apart from Alice, making the choice an obvious one.

Hera had embodied the heroine so perfectly that even the screenwriter couldn’t hold back her emotions.

She clapped her hands, her smile wide, and a few tears welled up in the corners of her eyes.

Earlier, when Alice performed, the screenwriter had nodded in approval, but something had felt lacking in Alice’s portrayal—she hadn’t quite captured the depth of the heroine’s emotions.

However, as soon as Hera took the stage, everything clicked into place.

The way she conveyed the character’s emotions resonated deeply with the screenwriter, making her feel a stronger connection to the heroine than she ever had before.