The few who appreciated

Andrea's heart suddenly filled with a ridiculous sense of amusement, as if the man dialing "911" for help in the movie was simply a wrong choice. The forever calm operator seemed to be listening to a farce, not helping at all, but instead wasting the man's precious time and depleting the limited oxygen in the coffin. A person was about to be killed, while the people around remained indifferent because they didn't know each other. The previous scenes gave the old man such a feeling.

Although he knew it wasn't the operator's fault, he couldn't suppress the anger in his heart. He even thought that if he encountered such an operator, he would give her a good scolding. But all of this had no effect on the man in the movie who wanted to survive.

The man lay despondently in the coffin, barely audible breathing. He began to release the lighter that had been held in his left hand.

The light disappeared, and the screen turned dark. Was the man going to meet his death? The old man couldn't help but worry. Yes, how else could he save himself? Even "911" was of no help. It was despairing.

After extinguishing the lighter again, Paul didn't give up but calmly pondered a solution. After reorganizing his thoughts, he ignited the lighter again and started making a phone call.

He first called his wife, Linda. Unfortunately, Linda didn't answer the phone. The man then dialed "411" directory assistance, hoping to find the FBI's phone number. However, the operator persistently demanded that Paul specify a specific state and city. Impatiently, he casually said, "Chicago." The call was then transferred to the FBI in Chicago, and he began explaining the situation...

...

Lyman had already watched the movie he filmed completely. From the moment someone stopped, he moved to the side and watched the audience intently.

He counted. From the beginning, the old man came, followed by three young girls. It took 50 seconds in between. After that, more people joined one after another. There were already 17 viewers now, and in the meantime, not a single person left. It meant that the attrition rate after the movie started was zero.

His gaze scanned back and forth and found another suspicious person: 7 seconds ago, this pedestrian passed by, saw the gathering of people, and with a curious mentality, stopped to take a look from the roadside, about 5 meters away. Then, he approached a little, but still maintained a posture ready to leave at any moment. After more than ten seconds, he took a few more steps forward. After another ten seconds or so, his body was completely facing the screen, and he walked all the way into the group of people watching for free, and then stood straight to watch. The number of viewers increased from 17 to 18. New viewers, aside from the ones ushered in by René and Thomas, also had this kind of situation happening.

Of course, not all pedestrians would stop and watch: most of them took a glance and left directly, without any sign of being attracted. Some stopped and watched for a while, but they would leave within a few minutes, muttering "What a waste" under their breath. But overall, as long as someone truly joined the audience, not a single person chose to leave, and the ratio of those who stayed to those who joined was roughly 12 to 1.

And just as Lyman was scanning the potential audience, this small group seemed like a magnet, tirelessly emitting a magnetic force, selecting individuals with common traits from the passersby and drawing them in.

18, 20, 25, 33, 47...

In just half an hour, the number of people had increased to 52. It took 50 minutes to go from one person to 17, but it only took 30 minutes to go from 17 to 52. What did this indicate? It showed that the growth rate was accelerating.

Lyman, with nothing better to do, kept tallying, with absolute precision to the first decimal place. And the number of viewers continued to increase.

The space he chose was quite large, but with over fifty people of different heights and sizes converging here, and with space needed for projection equipment, the screen, and the distance between the screen and the audience, it started to feel somewhat crowded. After those pedestrians who stopped to watch again didn't show any interest, they approached with smaller steps because they were already standing by the roadside.

"Hey, Leon, what are you doing here?"

"Just passing by, it's quite interesting. Come and take a look."

"Weren't we supposed to go to the exhibition hall to see "And Your Mother Too"? It's already 10:30, and it's about to start. Let's hurry up and go."

"No... no... no, I've reached the most interesting part. Let me finish watching this movie first."

"This man is so unlucky. How could those idiotic American politicians save him?"

"Dad, let's go. I want to eat ice cream."

"With all the chaos in Afghanistan, it's obvious that the Americans are playing tricks behind the scenes. Those kidnappers won't let Paul go. I'm telling you, his family is the most pitiful. They're still under threat. The United States won't provide protection as promised."

...

As the crowd grew, it became impossible to maintain the previous quiet atmosphere. During the pauses in the slowing pace of the film, viewers constantly started discussing and expressing their opinions about the movie. The noise and commotion attracted even more attention from passersby.

Humans all over the world, regardless of skin color, have the mentality of watching a spectacle. It's an element rooted deep in their genes. Every time something happens somewhere, you can be sure a large crowd will gather. Now that it's so lively here, it's certainly generating momentum for the movie.

Before long, Thomas and René also returned to Lyman's side. They had obviously noticed the lively scene and understood that there was no need for them to put on a smiling face. "How is it? How many people are there?" René asked excitedly.

"There are too many people coming from behind. I can't count, but there must be at least seventy or more," Lyman gave his most conservative estimate.

"There are quite a lot of people." Thomas couldn't help but exclaim as he gazed at the audience in front of him, fully absorbed in watching the film.

If this was a funeral for their work "Buried", Lyman accepted it. Even if it would enter the offline market and fade into obscurity, it was still worth it! At least it had been recognized by people, he thought.

As time passed, the film also entered its final phase.

After Paul once again rejected the kidnappers' proposal to record a video, he slowly turned over and lay down in the coffin, his eyes filled with despair. 911 had rejected him, the FBI doubted him, and his parent company had fired him over the phone, citing his recent harassment of a female employee within the company. According to company regulations, he would lose his job. To make matters more absurd, the only people who showed any concern for him were the thugs themselves. They called one after another, threatening him and proclaiming that they would kill his entire family if he didn't record the video.

At this moment, he felt like an ant, his life being toyed with by others, and the cost he paid was for the Washington authorities. It was their greed and lies that brought him to this current situation.

"Creak, creak..." The small coffin seemed unable to bear the weight of the soil above, and it began to make noise. Paul was startled and looked at the gradually distorting wooden lid. His eyes were profound, filled with fear mixed with a hint of relief.

He dialed the phone number at home again, but this time it wasn't his wife, it was his mother who was suffering from Alzheimer's in a nursing home. In her memory, Paul was still a child. She chattered about irrelevant trivial matters, repeatedly saying the same things, which drove Paul to the brink of collapse.

Even though tears rolled down his cheeks, he clenched his lips tightly to prevent himself from making any sound. His mother was also starting to forget him. He was abandoned in this barren place, waiting silently for death, but he still didn't want to worry his mother.

A corner of the coffin board collapsed, and sand poured down like a waterfall. The man quickly hung up the phone and tried to block the hole with his jacket and the clothes on his body, but it seemed to have little effect as the sand kept pouring in. At this rate, it wouldn't take much longer for Paul to be truly buried alive.

In this moment of crisis, his phone vibrated again. The man seized it like a lifeline and answered the call. On the other end of the line were the kidnappers. They revealed the detailed address of the man's family and once again threatened him to record the video. This time, Paul agreed. He couldn't guarantee that the US government would ensure the safety of his family. Besides, he was already dying and didn't care anymore.

After hanging up the phone, the man opened his phone again and recorded a video as his will, leaving everything to his wife Linda and his daughter.

"I love you, Linda, Sally," he said at the end of the video.

These words would be his final trace in this world.

The sand trickled down sparsely, gradually burying him. Paul's thoughts began to wander, and in the end, only his daughter's laughter echoed in his muddled mind.

The movie ended.

The viewers who had finished watching tidied up their emotionally pierced hearts. Some of them hadn't yet emerged from their emotions, with dried tear streaks on their cheeks. They stood still, revealing a fragile sense of confusion.

The continuous tear-jerking climax had not let Lyman down; it successfully shocked the entire audience.

A slightly lighter background music started playing, and on the screen, the credits began to roll:

Director: Lyman Lattes.

Writers: René Garcia, Lyman Lattes.

Starring: Heath Ledger as Paul.

Cinematography: Clément Sabot.

...

Continuity: Thomas Lhote.

Production Assistant: René Garcia.

These viewers seemed to be stuck in place, foolishly watching the entire segment of the cast and crew credits without leaving. Finally, it was the same old man from the beginning who first regained his senses and began to applaud.

"Pah, pah..."