The Return of the Cannon Fodder Trillion Heiress - Chapter 552

Chapter 552: Chapter 552 Why Would I Fear?
He chuckled, his mind already buzzing with the possibilities that Hera’s talent brought to the project.

His earlier thoughts about Alice’s performance had faded, replaced with an eager anticipation for the film’s success.

So thrilled by the potential, it felt as though his entire body was trembling with energy.

“Now that it’s settled, please bring your manager, or if it’s more convenient, you can come to the office tomorrow to sign the contract with us,” Director Nick said, his tone professional yet warm.

“We’ll discuss compensation and other details, and if you have any concerns, we can negotiate them then.”

He treated Hera with the same respect he would give to any seasoned actor like Xavier or the others.

Her immense talent deserved it.

In part, this was his way of making up for the rushed invitation, ensuring she knew her worth and signaling that he hoped to work with her again on future projects.

The favor Director Nick was showing Hera was a clear indication of how impressed he was with her, a form of acknowledgment that would soon serve as her golden ticket to becoming a highly sought-after talent in the entertainment industry.

This gesture would open doors for her, positioning her as someone directors would vie to cast in their films, rather than waiting for opportunities to come to her.

Hearing the Director’s words, Xavier nodded in quiet approval.

He could tell how genuine Director Nick’s interest in Hera was, and he silently observed, ready to step in if needed to help negotiate on her behalf.

Typically, such discussions would wait until the contract signing the following day, but Director Nick was so pleased with Hera’s performance that he spoke candidly, without any reservations.

Hera, too, was taken aback by the Director Nick’s openness.

She hadn’t expected such a warm reception, and as his words sank in, a swell of pride and happiness filled her heart.

Being acknowledged by a renowned director in the industry made her feel that her talent had been truly recognized.

It fueled her determination to work even harder and prove herself worthy of the opportunities ahead.

She flashed a radiant smile that took everyone by surprise, as if their hearts had been captured by the beauty before them.

For a moment, the room seemed to stand still, enchanted by her presence.

Xavier instinctively stepped forward, a possessive urge rising within him, but just as quickly, he hesitated and retreated to his original spot.

He knew that Hera was destined for greater heights, and her journey would take her to a stage where countless others would admire and love her.

More than his own possessiveness, he longed to see her shine like a star, to be by her side as she reached for her dreams, eager to witness her success firsthand.

After a brief, stunned silence, everyone finally broke into smiles, joining Hera in her moment of triumph.

Laughter and excited chatter filled the room as they eagerly discussed the heroine and how she managed to craft such a compelling character background.

They marveled at the depth with which she portrayed the character’s emotions at key moments.

The screenwriter, who had also written the original script, watched Hera with a look of admiration, her eyes wide with excitement, as if she were a fan witnessing a rising star.

Hera paused for a moment, a thoughtful expression on her face, before she spoke. “I imagined myself in her position,” she began, her voice steady.

“When you’re young and naïve, you look at the world with hope, believing in a better future—one where you’re surrounded by family, friends, and colleagues. Those people are your world.”

“But when something as horrifying as a zombie apocalypse happens out of nowhere, the first thing I’d feel is confusion—just trying to understand why this is happening. And then, instead of fear, I think I’d feel anger.”

“The people I love, the ones closest to me, they start dying right before my eyes, and I don’t even understand why it’s happening. Before I even get a chance to make sense of it, they’re gone. Don’t you think that’s unfair?”

Her words hung in the air, raw and honest, revealing the depth of her understanding of the character’s pain.

Hera’s gaze grew more intense as she continued, her words cutting through the air with a raw emotion that seemed to resonate with everyone in the room.

“And fear? Why would I fear, when I’m the last one left in a world without the people I loved, the ones I’d hoped to spend my life with? No, at that moment, I wouldn’t fear.”

“Instead, I would condemn the world for what it had become. I’d want to eradicate every single thing that took my family from me.”

“But beyond that… my loved ones died to give me a chance to live. And so, instead of giving in to despair, I would grit my teeth, embrace the cold indifference, and survive. I would show them—show my family—that their sacrifice wasn’t in vain. Even if I couldn’t take down every zombie, I would find a way to carve my own path, to keep moving forward.”

As Hera spoke, the screenwriter’s eyes widened with realization.

Hera had perfectly captured the very emotions she had poured into the script—emotions she hadn’t even known how to express herself until now.

In her early days of writing, she had been bitter and angry at the world, feeling overlooked and dismissed.

She didn’t want to write just another typical romance; she yearned to create a story about battle-hardened, wounded characters—like wolves coming together, licking their wounds and fighting side by side, growing stronger with each battle.

It was her way of expressing what she herself had felt: the struggle, the need to be seen, to fight for her own place in the world.

Hearing Hera voice those very sentiments, the screenwriter’s chest tightened with emotion.

It was as if Hera had unlocked a part of her soul.

She wanted to cry, remembering the pain of fighting alone, only to have her struggles ignored by those around her.

But now, seeing Hera embody those feelings with such authenticity, she couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude.

Hera had understood her completely, channeling every bit of that raw emotion into the character she had created.

The other candidates all portrayed their heroines as fearful—afraid of the world they now found themselves in, terrified of being alone in a reality that had become unrecognizable.

Their characters were driven by the constant dread of dying, the fear of betrayal, the uncertainty of survival.

But Hera’s portrayal was different. It wasn’t about fear; it was about resilience, about anger, and the will to survive for something greater than just life itself.

That was the missing element, the one thing that had always felt absent in the other performances.

Now, the screenwriter understood why she had never been fully satisfied with their portrayals.

It wasn’t just about fear—it was about the fight to reclaim purpose, to make the pain of survival mean something.

As the realization dawned on her, the screenwriter’s eyes filled with tears, her emotions overwhelming her.

She nodded vigorously, her eyes rimmed red with unshed tears, feeling a deep connection to Hera.

She had created this heroine as a reflection of her own struggles, her own longing to be seen, to have her voice heard.