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Cassius had no time to worry about what Warner thought. The wave of public opinion had already pushed his stats hard.
Cultural Influence +30. Cultural Influence +14. Cultural Influence +29.
The Reputation-Building bar sat at 96 percent. One more push and he would level up.
He grabbed his bags and flew straight to England. To keep costs down and cash in on British tax breaks, Guardians of the Galaxy would shoot mostly in the UK instead of those overpriced American studios.
The crew had taken over a converted warehouse outside London. That was home for the next six months.
Training started at five the next morning. The head coach was a former Royal Marine with a shaved head and a body carved from stone. He never smiled. His program was brutal: four hours a day of running, weighted drills, core work, and explosive circuits. Even after the Fast franchise and Hunger Games training, Cassius felt the burn.
Meals were locked down. Boiled chicken, brown rice, broccoli measured to the gram. At least the broccoli was fresh.
"You're not playing some gym pretty boy," the coach growled. "Star-Lord is a street rat who survived on alien scrap heaps. Your muscles have to actually work."
Cassius didn't argue. He just trained.
Every day the sweat soaked the floor. The system kept dropping orbs.
Endurance +8. Muscle Control +5.
His body adapted fast.
Mornings were physical. Afternoons were weapons and movement. A quiet British instructor taught him the elemental guns. The goal wasn't perfect aim. It was fast draws, spinning shots, rolls, and flashy poses that looked cool even if they were tactically stupid.
"Remember, Peter Quill isn't a sniper," the instructor said. "He's a show-off thief. His shooting has to feel like performance art."
Cassius got it. It was the same trick he used with Han Lee's coin flips on 2 Broke Girls. Style over precision.
Dance training came next. A choreographer drilled him on the opening scene where Star-Lord dances alone on a dead planet to "Come and Get Your Love." The moves needed that loose, cocky, slightly dorky 80s disco energy.
"Feel the music like a kid who just found his mom's old Walkman," the choreographer said. "Not a pro. A dork who thinks he's smooth."
Cassius practiced in front of the mirror until the moves started feeling natural. He added his own little flourishes. The choreographer gave him a thumbs-up.
Team fight training happened at a London martial-arts gym. That was where he finally met his co-stars in full makeup tests. Zoe Saldana and Dave Bautista.
Zoe nodded once and said "Hi." Her eyes stayed cool. The system read her favorability at 50. Polite but distant.
Dave was the opposite. The giant former wrestler grinned like a kid and crushed Cassius's hand in a handshake.
"Cass! Finally meeting you in person. I'm Dave. Playing Drax, the brainless one."
He was loud, honest, and immediately treated Cassius like family. Favorability jumped to 60.
They trained together every afternoon. Dave used his wrestling background to give Drax big, powerful swings. Sometimes he hit too hard and the fight coordinator had to yell at him to pull back. Dave just scratched his head and apologized, then did it again the next round.
Between sessions Dave kept pulling Cassius aside.
"Cass, when Drax punches, should I add a roar? Like 'Aaaah!'"
Cassius laughed. "Only if you want the audience to think you're about to run him over with a car."
Groot's voice was still undecided. James Gunn wandered in one afternoon looking stressed.
"We need someone with a distinctive voice for Groot. One line, but it has to carry emotion and be memorable. Budget's tight."
Cassius thought of Vin Diesel's deep, rumbling voice. He stepped outside, called Vin, and pitched the idea straight.
"Vin, they need a voice for Groot. One line, but it repeats with different tones. I told them your voice would give the character instant recognition. Plus it's great cross-promotion for Fast 6. We can work out a royalty deal on the voice rights instead of a big upfront fee."
Vin was quiet for a second, then laughed.
"You want me to voice a tree? Alright. Send me the scenes and set up a call with Gunn and Marvel. Low fee is fine if we get backend on the voice clips for toys and games."
The call happened the next day. Vin locked in the role for a small fee plus a cut of any future Groot voice merchandise. Gunn was thrilled. The contrast of Vin's voice coming out of a tree was pure marketing gold.
Dave was the most excited.
"Vin Diesel? That 'I am Groot' is going to sound like he's about to run someone over. Perfect!"
Zoe gave Cassius a longer look than usual. Her favorability ticked up to 52.
Improvisation sessions started after that. Gunn set up fake bar scenes and forced them to stay in character.
"Trapped in a crappy space bar for six hours. Ship's broken. Only terrible drinks and bad Earth country music on the jukebox. Go."
Dave started. "This music makes me want to smash things. It sounds like a sick Nak beast howling."
Cassius leaned back, trying to look cool. "Relax, big guy. It's just old Earth tunes. My mom had something like this on tape."
Zoe crossed her arms. "Music opinions are pointless. We should calculate patrol cycles and plan an escape."
The scenes got looser and funnier every day. Dave's blunt honesty played perfectly against Cassius's cocky thief and Zoe's sharp assassin. Favorability kept climbing.
By the end of the week, Gunn was smiling wide.
"You three are starting to feel like a real crew. Keep it up."
Cassius checked his panel at night.
Role Conviction +23. The number was moving fast.
He was getting closer to Star-Lord every single day.