Chapter 105 – Difficult to distinguish between true and false
The shooting of ‘Buried’ went extremely smoothly, to the point where one might say it exceeded expectations.
The entire burden of the production rested on Renly’s shoulders. All other tasks were minimized to the extreme, and the progress of the production depended entirely on the quality of Renly’s acting. If he was in a bad state, continuously making mistakes in a scene, a single shot could take hours, thereby ruining the entire day’s work. However, if his state was excellent, only a few simple takes would suffice, and sometimes even bring surprises. Shooting five to six scenes a day would then pose no problem at all.
Fortunately, Renly was in an excellent state, one might even say he was on fire.
In less than five days, the shooting progress had already surpassed two-thirds, far exceeding expectations. The filming is estimated to wrap up in the next two to four days. Even for an independent film with a small budget and scope, that is truly incredible.
Everything felt too real, especially the pain coming from his head and arms, which was becoming increasingly evident. He raised his hand and saw it covered in blood. His phone was vibrating incessantly in his hand, memories flooding back in an instant.
Just now, a bomb had been dropped, shattering the lid of the coffin, and sand poured down like torrential rain. His phone lost signal, and his call was forcibly interrupted. In this desperate situation, his survival instinct erupted with unbelievable strength. He tried to plug the crack with his shirt to stop the sand from pouring in further, but the wood eventually broke. The sand continued to trickle down, leaving him with less and less time. If he doesn’t get out soon, he won’t have another chance.
Yes, he didn’t have much time left.
Seeing the vibrating phone in his hand, a ray of hope suddenly ignited. The phone that had just lost signal finally rang again. He had to let the outside world know that something unexpected had happened to him, and the rescue speed needed to be accelerated. This was his only hope.
“Is this Paul Conroy?” The voice on the other end of the phone was calm and slow, each word enunciated deliberately so clearly it was almost unbearable. He had to interrupt the voice directly, “Yes, yes, I’m Paul. Who are you?” He had to adjust his shirt more tightly because the sand kept falling, and the situation seemed to be getting worse.
“Paul, this is Alan Davenport.” The voice on the other end of the phone still pronounced each word clearly, making people impatient. “I’m the HR manager at CRT Company.”
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