Hugo raised his right fist, ready to strike Anthony across the cheek, but Joseph acted first. He placed his right foot behind Anthony's legs and, using the strength of both hands, shoved Anthony hard in the chest. The force sent Anthony stumbling backward. Hugo, who had been holding Anthony's chest, didn't anticipate Joseph's combined push, and his left hand loosened. Anthony fell to the ground without resistance.
Hugo's right fist swung through the air, missing its target, causing his weight to tip slightly forward — a clear indication of just how much force he had put into that punch. But he had been a step too slow; Joseph had acted before him.
With a single arrow-like step, Joseph advanced and slammed his fist into Anthony's cheek. One punch, then another. The thuds of flesh meeting bone rang loud and heavy, the sound of violence so palpable it felt as though blood surged beneath the skin.
Each strike vented Joseph's rage. He wasn't the direct target, but Hugo was his friend, and Joseph had witnessed every ounce of Hugo's effort over the past year. Facing Anthony's slander, Joseph's anger burned even hotter than Hugo's. If Hugo were to give up now, if he were to falter, Joseph would not only be disappointed but heartbroken. He could not, under any circumstances, allow trash like Anthony to smear Hugo's name!
Punch after punch, each landing solidly. Joseph's larger frame and bigger fists intensified the impact, and he threw every blow with the strength of his whole body, driven by pure fury. Anthony's face quickly became a crimson map of bruises and blood.
All of this unfolded in a flash. By the time those around them reacted, Joseph and Anthony were locked in a brawl. Many women screamed and stepped back in fear.
Uma finally snapped fully awake. She tugged at Hugo, who was about to step forward, but she could feel the tension in his arms, the tight clench of his fists — he was a walking powder keg ready to explode. She realized things were about to spiral out of control. "Hugo! Stop Joseph! Stop him now!"
Hugo shot her a furious glare, making Uma flinch. But she understood immediately — this was Hugo's anger, not malice toward her. She braced herself and continued, "This is going too far! Enough is enough! If he ends up in the hospital, it will be your responsibility!"
Her words, though halting and fragmented, brought the last shred of reason back to Hugo. He realized that if Anthony truly got hurt, the blame would fall on Joseph and him. It had nothing to do with career disputes — fighting itself violated public order, potentially even the law. Joseph's punches, delivered with such force, could seriously injure someone. Hugo's rationality returned.
"Joe, calm down! Calm down!" Hugo shouted, grabbing Joseph and pulling him upright. But Joseph was like a raging bull; stopping him wasn't simple. "Joe! You're going to kill him!" Hugo yelled, clutching Joseph's waist and rolling to the side, finally separating Joseph and Anthony.
Hugo had no time to assess Anthony's injuries and had to hold Joseph, who struggled violently. "Joe! Stop! Stop! We're just teaching him a lesson! No more! He could die! He could actually die!"
"Shut that damn mouth!" Joseph roared, his eyes bloodshot, entirely consumed by his anger, far from his usual calm and composed self.
By now, people had surrounded the scene. Some dragged Anthony aside, while others restrained Hugo and Joseph. Hugo struggled to his feet, signaling to those nearby that he had regained control, and once he confirmed Joseph was safe, he turned to look at Anthony.
Anthony was a pitiful sight. Nose bleeding, skin torn at the corners of his eyes, blood in his mouth — his face was a brutal mask of pain. His chest heaved like bellows. The white shirt, stained with blood and dirt, made him resemble a soldier returning from a battlefield. Yet despite everything, he managed to sit up halfway and meet Hugo's probing gaze.
When Anthony saw Hugo staring, he smiled. Yes, he actually smiled — a grotesque, grim smile that stretched across his battered face. His eyes gleamed with cunning pride. Though his smile contorted his injuries, he quickly restored it and, moving his lips, said, "You lost."
Hugo felt a chill sweep down his spine. His rage began to subside, reason returned, and chaotic thoughts flooded his mind. He realized just how manipulative Anthony had been. From start to finish, Anthony had manufactured confrontation, deliberately provoking Hugo, violating his deepest boundaries. His camera, his steps, his gaze — every action was calculated to test Hugo's limits, slowly stoking his anger to the point of action.
But things had not gone according to Anthony's plan. Joseph intervened. He delivered the blows that Anthony had anticipated Hugo would strike. Yet the outcome remained the same: Anthony's plan succeeded only partially, because as Hugo's manager and friend, Joseph and Hugo operated almost as one.
And astonishingly, Anthony did not resist Joseph's punches. Was he unable to defend himself? Certainly not. Anyone in his position would instinctively block or attempt to retaliate. But Anthony did nothing. He didn't struggle — he took every punch, patiently waiting for someone to "rescue" him.
This was Anthony's scheme from beginning to end. He had intended to bait Hugo into striking him, to claim victory in his manipulative game. One could already imagine tomorrow's headline:
"Joseph Gibbs — Hugo's Agent Violently Assaults Reporter"
The ensuing media storm would be unpredictable and catastrophic.
Hugo suddenly recalled the reports he had read years ago when working as an extra, about the paparazzi in Hong Kong. They would go to any lengths to provoke celebrities — using cameras to press close and even collide with them, obstructing their paths, sometimes causing accidental injuries. They would even sift through artists' trash or sneak into their homes to spy on them. All of it aimed at one goal: to make the celebrity lash out. Colleagues nearby would quickly intervene to "control the damage," ensuring that the artist's strike made the news — "Celebrity assaults reporter!"
At the time, Hugo had scorned the paparazzi for their ruthless methods while mocking the celebrities for their lack of composure, falling into such obvious traps. But now, experiencing it firsthand, he realized how deceptively simple it seemed on paper — yet how difficult it was in reality. He had walked straight into the trap without hesitation, like prey long watched by a hunter, stepping precisely where the hunter wanted.
Still, thinking about Anthony's ruthlessness sent shivers down Hugo's spine. Joseph had struck with full force — each blow sharp enough to make anyone cringe just by witnessing it. Yet Anthony endured it all. What was even more terrifying was that after surviving the beating, Anthony had the leisure to congratulate himself, wearing a victorious smile aimed directly at Hugo. It was utterly chilling.
If Anthony could be so audacious, how many more traps awaited him in the future? Hugo felt, for the first time, the fearsome and ruthless reality of the entertainment industry. He was still far too inexperienced. Though he had struggled in the underground rock scene for ten years and had been in the workforce for a decade, he was only twenty-five, and he had been in the entertainment world for just a year. He was still too green, too naive.
Even now, having understood Anthony's scheme, Hugo reflected on Anthony's words. Yet he realized that he could not have kept his composure if the accusations of plagiarism had come again. It was a personal insult, a violation of his dignity. So perhaps, if this were repeated, the result would have been the same.
Maybe when Hugo turned thirty, or after a few more years navigating the entertainment industry and becoming accustomed to it, he would be able to face such slander with calm. By then, he would understand that groundless defamation never truly disappears; in fact, it grows alongside success. The best response is not confrontation, but a measured smile, an indifferent dismissal. Perhaps then, Hugo would grasp this truth but certainly not now.
Anthony looked at the frozen expression on Hugo's face and smiled again. That confidence, that ease, didn't belong to someone who had just been beaten; it belonged to a champion who had survived a heavyweight boxing match. Hugo felt an icy chill run through him.
Once his objective was achieved, Anthony tucked away the smile and lowered his gaze, skillfully playing the role of the injured party. He groaned and whimpered, signaling vulnerability while blaming Joseph and Hugo for wrongdoing. This performance reignited the anger still simmering in Hugo.
Hugo understood that tonight's defamation was only the beginning. What awaited him next was Anthony's unrelenting assault. Even more terrifying was that Hugo had no idea when it would end, as if a venomous snake lurked in the shadows, ready to strike at any moment. His fists clenched again, teeth grinding. No matter what, he would never retreat — never.
...
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