I was the feared female bandit, making everyone tremble in their boots.

But after being in the entertainment circle, I guzzled three bowls of liquor, seized the top stars, and hoisted up the rising actresses as I carried them back to my room.

The director froze, and the internet exploded as I faced the live camera.

The Best Actor's expression towards me became increasingly odd.

He looked so much like my husband!

"Amelia, I'm telling you one last time—this is your final chance! Acknowledge receipt, acknowledge receipt!" Celeste Jameson, my agent, called for the hundredth time before the shoot for the variety show began.

"Celeste, I got it, I got it—both my ears are tuned in!" I snapped back. The entertainment industry was full of such chatterboxes.

I thought, So what if there are tons of haters? Let them come—I'll take them all on with my bare hands until they bow down and surrender.

Celeste sighed heavily, a look of determined calm on her face. "This time, the payment is higher than any project you've taken before."

My eyes lit up. "Great!"

Who would turn down money?

With enough cash, even this bandit chief would grace the variety show stage.

As the time for the shoot approached, a sweet-faced girl with twin ponytails came trotting over. She greeted me with a smile that could melt hearts.

"Hi there, I'm Freya Wilson. Just call me Freya. You must be Amelia Flores, right?"

Freya, the rising star, was soft-spoken and as cute as a button—like a little bunny.

She nodded at me, and in the brief moment she looked down, I noticed her observing my stance. I quickly corrected my stance from my usual boss-like posture.

"Ha, Freya, you're adorable," I said, genuinely charmed. I couldn't help but think how nice it would be to have her as my 'captive wife' back at the stronghold.

As soon as we finished greeting each other, a car pulled up in the distance.

The third guest had arrived: Sean Rowe, the all-around idol from the entertainment industry. His youthful, distinct style was evident, and he had earned the nickname Show Man.

But with his handsome face, he could pull it off.

As he stepped out of the car, another black vehicle rolled up behind him.

Out stepped Harry Federer, the Best Actor.

Officially listed at 6 feet 2 inches but looking more like 6 feet 3 inches, Harry had a striking, almost ethereal demeanor.

Dressed in a simple white shirt, he revealed just a hint of his toned physique underneath.

His face, with its chiseled features, seemed oddly familiar, though I couldn't quite place where I'd seen him before.

I was so lost in thought that I didn't notice Freya approaching me.

She handed me a tissue. "Amelia, here. Wipe your drool," she said with a gentle laugh.

I snapped my mouth shut, embarrassed. "Oops..."

The sight of so many attractive faces was overwhelming.

With all these stunning men and women, one day, I'll carry them all back to my stronghold!

Originally, I was the fierce leader of Ironclad Bastion.

Before my transmigration, I had just found a frail young boy on the mountaintop. He wasn't much to look at, but he had a decent face—clean and delicate.

I took him back to the organization and nursed him with precious herbs.

The women in the organization suggested, "Boss, you need a husband, don't you?"

So I grabbed my big sword and stormed into the boy's room.

"Will you marry me?"

The guys in the organization laughed hysterically, telling me to put the sword away.

The boy simply smiled and said, "Yes."

I didn't expect him to agree so quickly!

For days, whenever the guys brought gifts, I sent them to his room as gifts.

As our wedding day drew near, I drank too much and fell asleep.

We didn't even get to consummate the marriage.

When I woke up, I found myself transported into a novel about the entertainment industry.

I'd been stuck in this entertainment world for over two weeks now, and I was finally getting used to the life of a female celebrity.

The original owner of this body wasn't too shabby in terms of looks—smooth and delicate skin with an attractive face.

However, her personality was another story. She had a knack for stirring up scandals to boost her popularity, and it had backfired spectacularly.

Now, she was teetering on the edge of being blacklisted.

In a desperate move, my agent had pulled out all the stops and thrown every resource into landing this body a spot on a variety show.

The plan was simple: make a splash, no matter what it took.

As soon as I heard that, I was fired up.

Making a splash? Now, that's something I can get behind!

I knew exactly what I needed to do.

Time to turn up the heat and shake things up—because I understand how to make an impact!

The variety show was set halfway up a mountain, far from the city.

Besides the crew and the innkeeper, it was just the four of us.

On our first day, there weren't any tasks lined up—just some casual chit-chat.

Sean, ever the social butterfly, was the center of attention.

He was like a walking energy drink, always buzzing with activity.

His bright personality and vibrant energy were impossible to miss.

Feeling the awkward tension among us, Sean quickly suggested that we all hang out and play some games together.

As he spoke, he shed his jacket, revealing a tank top that showcased his bulging biceps. Sean knew exactly what the audience wanted to see.

Freya's eyes lit up, and she moved a little closer to him. I, on the other hand, scrutinized Harry. He was sitting across from me, unusually quiet and calm. It was a bit eerie.

Inside, I was fuming. Come on, Harry, step up your game! Sean's showing off his biceps; shouldn't you be flaunting your abs or something?

I couldn't help but glance at his midsection.

He looked pretty lean, but who knew if he had the goods.

He better not be as weak as my previous husband, who couldn't carry a box of groceries.

Just as I was lost in thought, Freya nudged my arm. "Amelia."

"Hmm?"

Freya, with a soft voice, said, "They're about to do an arm wrestling match. We should join in."

"Arm wrestling? I'm in!" I said, excited. Isn't making a big splash what this is all about? Time to show off the strength of our Ironclad Bastion.

Freya gave me a knowing look. Arm wrestling was the perfect opportunity for Sean to really strut his stuff.

Sean vs. Crew Member A. Sean won.

Sean vs. Crew Member B. Sean won again.

I rolled up my sleeves and plopped down in front of Sean before the next match could start. Sean frowned slightly. "Amelia, I don't usually arm wrestle with women."

I extended my hand confidently. "Then don't treat me like one."

Sean raised an eyebrow but reluctantly extended his hand. He applied about thirty percent of his strength. I matched him easily.

Sean's eyes widened with surprise.

He cranked up the pressure a bit. I remained unfazed, holding my ground.

"Amelia, are you..."

He bit his tongue, clearly struggling with his pride.

"I told you not to treat me like a girl."

Sean, determined, put all his strength into it, but my hand stayed as steady as a rock.

Sean's resistance started to falter.

With a decisive push, I slammed his hand onto the table.

The room went silent.

"Damn..." Someone muttered a curse from the crowd.

I released his hand, and he shook it out, forcing a smile on his face.

"You're really strong."

Seeing his face twisted in frustration, I suddenly felt a pang of guilt. "Should I, uh, go a bit easier next time?"

Sean was speechless.

Before the awkwardness could settle, the crew quickly stepped in to save the situation. "Everyone must be tired from arm wrestling. Let's switch to another activity!"

Sean's hand suddenly felt fine again. "Sounds good!"

As he spoke, he shot me a look that said he was itching for a rematch. His confidence was admirable, though it sometimes bordered on arrogance.

The original plan was to play Truth or Dare, with penalties involving drinking if one chickened out. The rules were a bit unclear to me, so I suggested, "How about this: the person the bottle points to has to drink. Simple and straightforward!"

The director, Logan Todd, hesitated. "Won't that..."

But Sean had already brought over a case of booze. "I'm in!"

Logan looked around for support. "Freya, you up for it?"

Sean, ever the gentleman, added, "Maybe the ladies should skip the drinking."

Freya suddenly raised her hand. "I'll drink!"

She flashed me a grin, and I grinned back.

Freya looked pretty badass, reminding me of the second-in-command back in Ironclad Bastion.

This was shaping up to be fun. Get them all tipsy, and I'd carry them back one by one!

Let the games begin.

With a mischievous grin, I filled their glasses one by one.

"Remember the rules: whoever the bottle lands on has to drink. If you can't handle it, you lose!"

With that, I made my way over to Harry and gave him a playful whistle.

"Best Actor, care to join us?"

Harry gave me a fleeting glance, his face expressionless, as if he was indifferent to everything happening around him.

Feeling a bit deflated, I joined Sean and the others.

"Take it easy on the drinks," I thought I heard someone behind me say.

Some voices from the production crew started to rise.

"What kind of event is this? Are we risking getting the show canceled for promoting excessive drinking?"

"We're a reputable show. Make sure this segment gets cut out!"

"But what about the live broadcast?"

"Whatever."

I decided to ignore it. I could pretend I didn't hear them.

After several rounds of the game, Freya was already a bit tipsy.

Although Harry wasn't participating, he ended up drinking a bit under Sean's coaxing. His tolerance was low; after just a few drinks, his face flushed a noticeable red.

I squinted at him, captivated by the sight. The mix of alcohol and beauty was almost intoxicating in itself.

My fingers traced lightly down his nose, then gently touched his impossibly long lashes.

His lashes fluttered, and he opened his sleepy eyes, catching me in the act.

"Uh."

Harry blinked slowly, his beautiful eyes locked onto mine.

He leaned in closer—one foot, half a foot...

Surrounded by his sweet scent of orange perfume, I unconsciously held my breath.

Just as I was about to close my eyes, I felt a weight on my shoulder. Harry had nestled into my neck, his hair tickling me.

I let out a relieved sigh and looked down at Harry, who had fallen asleep.

The shy Best Actor looked so charming that it was hard to resist.

"Hey, come on! Don't let the drinks go to waste!"

"This cup, this cup, this one's all yours!"

With a beautiful man in my arms, I almost forgot about Sean.

He was already slurring his words, still trying to out-drink me.

However, I had a reputation for holding my liquor in the organization. I could handle a few barrels of strong liquor without breaking a sweat.

Could someone like Sean really get me drunk?

It was already eleven at night.

Finally, Sean passed out while pouring more drinks, slumped against the unconscious Harry.

With the crew having gone back to their rooms, I checked on Freya, Harry, and Sean.

No response, just a mix of mumbling voices.

I decided to carry them to my room instead of barging into theirs late at night.

What could my intentions be?

Oh, nothing sinister—just a desire for a few more "wives" in my quarters.

I placed Freya gently on the bed and left Sean and Harry on the nearby couch.

Squatting down to examine Harry, I noted his delicate features, so meticulously crafted, and noticed he bore a resemblance to my husband, whom I barely knew.

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of you all!"

Just as I was about to start cleaning them up, a voice came from behind me.

"Take good care of us? What does that mean?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Whoa!"

Turning around, I saw Freya standing there, completely sober, with the same commanding stance I had had before.

A shiver of recognition ran through me.

"Black clouds press down on the city, threatening to crush it."

"The wind blows the grass, revealing the cattle and sheep!"

My fingers trembled with excitement.

"You... you're..."

Freya pulled me into a tight embrace. "Boss, I'm the Second in Command!"

"Second in Command? How did you end up here too?"