After wrapping up the shoot, Luke returned to his place.
His injuries weren't too serious—just a couple days of rest and he'd be more or less back on his feet. With this last scene done, his part in Jurassic Park 3 was officially finished.
The crew had saved this scene for last because it was the riskiest. They'd even shot a backup version beforehand just in case anything went wrong. After all, if the lead actor got badly injured and couldn't finish the film, the whole project could collapse.
Luckily, everything went smoothly. Luke nailed it, and he was proud of his performance. It gave him more confidence in his box office challenge.
Now came his favorite part—the attribute upgrade screen. Luke opened his stats panel:
[Name: Luke]
[Age: 18]
[Strength: 14]
[Agility: 15]
[Constitution: 14]
[Unspent Attribute Points: 3]
[Skills: Master-level Swordsmanship, Master-level Parkour, Master-level Throwing Knives]
From this shoot, he'd gained 3 points: 2 for completing a C-rank scene, plus 1 extra for his first on-set injury.
He decided to put them into Agility first. Since he'd already broken past one stat cap before, he could keep leveling Agility further.
[Agility: 15 → 16]
[Unspent Points: 3 → 1]
The moment he did, Luke felt his body react. His reflexes sharpened, his awareness heightened—he felt so quick that if a fly buzzed past his face, he could snatch it out of the air barehanded.
This was the essence of being a stunt performer: split-second reaction time.
He tried to raise Agility again, but—
[Not enough unspent attribute points. Each increase beyond 15 requires 2 points.]
"…Seriously?"
He only had 1 point left. Typical stingy system—never generous with the attributes.
Still, he didn't want to let that point sit idle. After tonight's scene, he'd realized Constitution was just as crucial. As a stunt actor, injuries were inevitable; the tougher his body, the less chance of lasting damage.
So he tossed his final point into Constitution.
[Constitution: 14 → 15]
[Unspent Points: 1 → 0]
Almost instantly, he felt the difference. His shoulder, which had been throbbing all night, felt much better—still sore, but not stiff anymore. He tested his arm and found he could move it freely.
"Man, with this kind of durability, I could probably hold my own in an MMA cage fight," he thought.
But before he could celebrate, the system threw up another message:
[Potential cap reached. Cannot increase this attribute further. Complete task: Establish an intimate relationship with any non-B-type girl. Reward: Breakthrough in potential cap.]
Luke froze.
…Non-B type?
So it really did mean blood types. That meant A, O, or AB. The system was basically spelling it out like a test question, digging a pit and daring him to jump in.
When it came to attributes, the system was stingy. But when it came to relationships? Generous. Suspiciously generous.
"This system is definitely not normal," Luke muttered. It was basically forcing him into social interaction through a mix of threats and bribes.
But "intimate relationship" was vague. How exactly was it defining intimacy?
Sibling bonds counted as intimate, didn't they? Parent-child? Teacher-student?
He shook his head quickly. "Nope. Nope. Don't go down that rabbit hole. Let's just see what happens."
For now, he was more curious about how his boosted stats affected his stunt success rate.
[Stunt Risk: D-level. Success rate: 99.9%.]
[Note: No more rewards for D-level stunts.]
"Damn it!"
Of course. The system never failed to block the easy route. Farming low-level stunts for free points? Nope, not happening.
That left only higher-difficulty challenges.
[Stunt Risk: C-level. Success rate: 77%.]
Not bad. His odds had gone up.
But then he wondered: what about beyond C-level?
In his mind, even Jackie Chan's craziest stunts barely scratched B-level difficulty. What would that look like?
The system answered immediately:
[Stunt Risk: B-level. Success rate: 20%.]
"…Twenty percent?"
That was brutal. Even his very first D-rank attempt had higher odds. With such a low base, grinding stats wouldn't be enough. He'd need new skills.
And to get those? Well, the system had made it pretty clear: interact with women.
"Back to square one," Luke sighed. "This thing's a trap I can't escape."
He decided not to overthink it and went to bed.
Just as he lay down, his phone started ringing.
Caller ID: Zhang Ziyu.
---
Hong Kong International Airport, VIP Lounge
Jackie Chen (a.k.a. Brother Chen Long) sat on a leather sofa, glancing at the arrival board.
He checked his Patek Philippe watch—it was already 11:30. The flight was running half an hour late.
A tall, elegant staff member approached, knelt slightly beside him, and said softly, "Mr. Chen, the flight you're waiting for is about to arrive. We'll bring your guest here in ten minutes."
"Thank you, I appreciate it."
"It's no trouble. It's our job."
She reached out her hand. He hesitated a moment, then gave it a polite shake. She smiled sweetly, even winked, then walked away.
When Chen opened his palm, he found a small note with a phone number written in pink ink.
He gave a helpless smile, crumpled it, and tossed it into the trash. He'd long since grown numb to these kinds of encounters.
At 46, his passion for romance had cooled. But his ambition for his career? Still burning as fiercely as ever.