No Love Trash: Interworld Heroine

Chapter 9: Dark Web Foreshadowing

Kaelin had just removed Lillian’s makeup when the system’s cold, emotionless electronic voice rang in her mind:

[Task Monitoring: Target Ethan Carter—negative publicity spread at 30%; relevant social media discussion volume: 1.2M; core negative tags have not reached threshold. Task not yet completed.]

Her fingers unconsciously swiped across her phone, pulling up the encrypted folder hidden in the cloud. There were no specific receipts or amounts, only a long timeline of records: tuition payments from the original owner to Ethan during college, rent after he signed with an agency, tailor-made suits for his first film festival, countless daily expenses—every transaction carefully stored. Kaelin scanned them with a calm, detached gaze, as if reviewing some irrelevant data.

She had seen through Ethan long ago. From the start, he’d pursued the original owner for just two things: her looks and her boundless generosity. He enjoyed being taken care of, spent her money as if it were his right, and never truly valued her. His arrogance made him believe he deserved to be worshiped, and that the original owner’s sacrifices were just stepping stones on his road to success. Once he gained recognition from an indie film, he immediately distanced himself from her, flaunted a new rising actress on streaming platforms, and even pretended to be single on talk shows—erasing the original owner completely.

“Hey, Kaelin, want to hit Hollywood Highland for a drink? Celebrate wrap day,” knocked the second male lead, cheerful and friendly.

Kaelin shook her head, already switching to the backend of an anonymous forum: “No, got some things to handle.” She was hunting for something buried deep in the gray corners of the internet.

Meanwhile, in a luxury Beverly Hills apartment, Ethan was raging at his agent Mara. The screen in front of him flashed trending tags—“Ethan Carter Throws a Tantrum” and “Blaze of Fury Deserves a Better Lead”—already hitting the top twenty. Even mainstream media were reposting clips of him refusing to shoot in the rain.

“We need an apology press conference immediately,” Mara’s voice trembled with urgency. “Some fans may still sympathize that you were under pressure, but if we delay, brands will start pulling endorsements!”

Ethan tugged at his tie, eyes burning with frustration. He had never been criticized like this before. Seeing a stream of paused endorsement notices, he clenched his teeth and conceded: “Fine. Tomorrow afternoon, at Universal Studios press center.”

Through the dark web, Kaelin’s tech hacker sent an encrypted email at noon the next day. Attached was a complete record of chats between Ethan and his private paparazzi spanning three months—from deliberately arranging a dinner with the original owner, specifying tricky angles for photos, to instructing the paparazzi to fabricate rumors that Kaelin used improper means to get a role. Every line dripped with naked malice:

“Get a low-angle shot so she looks like she’s leaning toward me—make it seem like she’s initiating.”

“The copy should imply she’s just riding my coattails. That’s what the audience eats up.”

“Money’s in your account. Make sure her reputation is ruined.”

Kaelin exported the chat as a PDF, added generalized proof of all the years the original owner had supported Ethan financially, and uploaded everything to her anonymous cloud drive. She didn’t release it immediately but opened her streaming software, quietly waiting for Ethan’s apology press conference to begin.

At 2 PM, the livestream started. Ethan, in a tailored suit, wore a carefully measured expression of guilt, bowing deeply: “I admit my recent behavior was unprofessional and disappointed the crew and fans.” He downplayed his refusal to shoot, blaming “illness” and hinting at “malicious edits by competitors,” finishing with a smooth, heartfelt line: “I will prove myself with future works and not let anyone down.”

Comments poured in: “Give him a chance, everyone makes mistakes”… “Maybe he really was targeted, feel bad for him.” The negative buzz slightly subsided.

Kaelin watched it all, fingers lightly tapping the keyboard. She scheduled the release of her cloud drive link to several major entertainment media outlets and influential bloggers, timing it one hour after the press conference—the peak moment of attention.

Done, she shut down her computer and stepped onto the balcony. Los Angeles sunlight poured over her, Hollywood sign clear in the distance. The system voice chimed in again:

[Negative publicity monitoring: current 32%. Expected significant increase after new evidence release.]

A faint, controlled smile tugged at Kaelin’s lips. Ethan thought a fake apology could smooth everything over. He didn’t know the “gift” she had prepared for him was enough to utterly destroy him in the entertainment industry. The warmth and sacrifices he had once taken for granted, the sincerity he had trampled, would all be repaid in the harshest way possible—and this was only the beginning of his reckoning.