"Assign him a role with a helmet," he said, turning to pat the assistant director on the shoulder. "Pull the visor down. Just don't show his face."
Having said that, he turned and left briskly without any hesitation, heading straight into the soundstage.
Only the assistant director, a middleman watching from afar, and over a dozen extras remained at the door. The extras looked at Don Quixote's retreating figure and the helpless assistant director, then glanced at Ryan Reed, who was standing frozen in place. The schadenfreude in their eyes quickly morphed into jealousy.
"How do you know Don Quixote, Ryan?" one of the extras asked.
"Is he... is he very famous?" Ryan asked, walking up to the assistant director, looking completely overwhelmed.
"We really don't have any scenes requiring helmets today," the assistant director said awkwardly, his brows knitted together in a tight frown. "Don't you think it would be weird for a militia member to wear a guard's helmet?"
