Chapter 550 - 357: Comparing Whose Egg Is Bigger

Chapter 550: Chapter 357: Comparing Whose Egg Is Bigger

"What’s up?" Li Wei scratched the space between his shoulder armor and collar, gesturing toward the side door. "How about we walk and talk?"

Jason Miller nodded and fell into step beside him. He had been carefully crafting his words for days, but now, he suddenly had no idea where to begin.

"Mr. Li Wei," Jason said after a moment’s hesitation, "I know this might sound a bit sentimental, but I wanted to thank you in person."

Li Wei glanced over at him.

"Not just for giving me a job," Jason continued, "but for giving me a chance to restart my life. If you hadn’t knocked on my car window, I’d probably still be handing out resumes, or maybe working as a background extra on some reality show," he added, looking at the bustling extras around them.

"Hey! What’s wrong with being an extra?" A Black extra walking past heard him and glared in displeasure.

"Nothing, nothing at all," Jason hurriedly apologized.

The extra looked like he was about to keep pushing the issue, but then he spotted Li Wei, and his eyes instantly lit up.

"Oh my god! You’re Li Wei! King!" he stammered, overwhelmed with excitement. "Can you... no, can I get a picture with you?" He scrambled to pull out his phone as he spoke.

"Of course." Li Wei turned to accommodate the photo. "You’re going to be a big star. Keep it up."

"Thank you, thank you!" The extra excitedly snapped a few shots. "You’re my savior, man. During the Super Bowl finals, I bet 200 USD on you. I told myself if I lost, I’d pack up and go back to my hometown."

"Seeing you now," Li Wei smiled, "I assume you won a bit?"

"I won!" The extra happily pocketed his phone. "And I used that money to pay my rent." After taking the photo, he walked away, looking back repeatedly with every step.

"Of course, I wasn’t saying there’s anything wrong with being an extra," Jason Miller picked up where he left off. "It’s just that I have a family to support now, so I’m looking for a more stable life."

"I understand."

Li Wei stopped to help nail a fallen wooden strip back onto a scenery flat. Jason watched him, silently marveling. If his previous gratitude toward Li Wei was mostly about the money and the job, seeing the man’s attitude now added a layer of genuine respect. In his ten years in Hollywood, Jason had seen every kind of bizarre demand and heard of every twisted fetish. Yet Li Wei didn’t have a single trace of that Hollywood arrogance.

The two turned a corner and arrived at a row of temporary modular buildings behind the studio lots. Li Wei’s lounge was at the very end, the door labeled "Lead Actor — Li Wei."

Upon entering, Li Wei began to strip off his light militia armor. Jason stood at the door, watching as Li Wei unfastened his bracers with a loud CLACK CLACK, stripping off the metallic chest plate in mere seconds. He took off the entire suit of armor as easily as peeling off a t-shirt.

Jason Miller noticed this, his brow furrowing as he stared at the chest plate on the table. He hesitated for a moment before speaking up. "Mr. Li Wei, let me return this armor to the prop department for you. It’s on my way back anyway."

"Then I have to thank you." Li Wei smiled, pulling a bottle of ice water from the fridge.

Jason walked over to the table and picked up the chest plate with both hands. Taking advantage of the moment Li Wei turned his back, he weighed it in his hands. Sure enough, it was too light. Though he wasn’t a prop master, he had spent years on Hollywood sets and had seen every kind of prop imaginable. Normally, a legitimate reproduction of Middle Ages combat armor would never use such lightweight materials. Even if high-quality costumes didn’t use solid metal plates, they would still incorporate wooden boards or sheet metal cladding. This was done to give the costume a sense of weight, making it look much more realistic when worn by an actor.

He weighed the chest plate in his hands again; it probably weighed less than 1.5 kilograms.

It would be understandable for a small production to use such cheap substitutes—when money was tight, you saved wherever possible. But this was different. Li Wei’s arrival had directly boosted the investment by an additional 100 million. In props and costumes alone, the budget sheet Patrick had shown him earlier had increased by 8 million USD.

Eight million USD for props like this?

Jason turned it over to inspect it further but kept quiet. It was possible that this was leftover stock from before the budget adjustment, not yet replaced. After all, it had already been purchased, and acquiring new inventory took time; they couldn’t instantly replace everything the moment the new budget dropped.

But if that wasn’t the case...

Jason carefully stacked the armor and scooped it up in his arms. "I’ll go return this," he said. "Get some rest, Mr. Li Wei."

"Thanks for the trouble. I’m just waiting for Irene to come help me take off my makeup." Li Wei sat on the sofa, pointing at his face.

Jason closed the door and carried the armor past the modular buildings back toward the prop room. The prop room was bustling. Staff members were sifting through a massive warehouse space, organizing equipment for the next scene. Jason handed the armor to one of the prop assistants. He didn’t linger, turning and heading straight for Patrick’s temporary office.

Patrick was sitting behind his desk, an open notebook and a glowing laptop in front of him. Jason gave a quick KNOCK KNOCK on the door before walking in.

Seeing Jason enter, Patrick hastily sat up straight, his fingers quickly tapping a few keys on his keyboard. "Holy shit, Jason. Don’t you know how to knock before coming in?" he demanded.

"I did knock." Jason walked up to him. "You just didn’t hear it."

Shouting blasted from Patrick’s computer speakers, followed by a commentator screaming, "GOOOAL!!!"

Patrick sat in silence for a few seconds before muting the computer. Jason ignored it. He pulled up a chair and sat across from Patrick.

"How much do you know about the purchasing progress for the props and costumes?" Jason asked, staring him down.

"The numbers on the books have all been verified. The expenses match the budget sheet, and there’s nothing unusual with the costumes."

Jason shook his head. "I’m not talking about the books. Have you looked a layer deeper? Between the purchase manifests and the actual deliveries, have you cross-referenced them item by item?"

Patrick paused, answering cautiously, "A line-by-line reconciliation would require coordination with the prop department."

That meant no, Jason noted to himself. It was a standard stalling tactic. Patrick was getting paid to do a job, but he didn’t want to put in any real effort; he was just coasting. And that was exactly why Jason Miller was here.

"Then could you do me a favor?" Jason Miller asked. "Run the prop department’s purchase manifest for this month for me. Specifically the physical purchases for armor and weapons. I need you to verify them against the actual deliveries."

Patrick stared at Jason for a couple of seconds before suddenly bursting into a scoffing laugh. "Jason, I get where you’re coming from," he said, "but this is Hollywood, not Wall Street."

He pointed at himself. "We aren’t a company prepping for an IPO or seeking financing, and we aren’t one of the Big Four accounting firms doing a massive inventory audit. Quality control for props isn’t in our job description," he concluded. "As long as the books balance out, I’ve fulfilled my contract."

"Fuck you," Jason thought, staring at Patrick for two long seconds. He knew perfectly well that Patrick looked down on him and resented him as his so-called direct superior. To Patrick, Jason was just a layman who couldn’t even distinguish between above-the-line and below-the-line expenses—so what right did he have to boss him around?

"Fine," Jason said. "I’ll investigate it myself. Export a detailed breakdown of all the prop department’s purchase orders from this month and send it to me."

Patrick froze, clearly not expecting Jason to take the matter into his own hands. "Give me a minute," he said. "I’ll send it to you before I get off work."

"Send it to me within half an hour," Jason said, "or else your company is going to hear about how you watch the Europe Cup on company time."

Patrick’s brow furrowed tightly. He glared at Jason without saying a word. Jason’s first instinct was to look away; he wasn’t used to managing people and subconsciously wanted to avoid conflict. But a split second later, he caught himself and glared right back at Patrick. Sometimes, this was just a game of who had the bigger balls.

A few seconds later, Patrick’s expression wavered. "Fine," he spat.

Five minutes later, Jason was sitting in his car, his laptop resting on his thighs. The screen displayed the purchase manifest Patrick had sent over. Jason went through it meticulously, line by line, until he reached the armor category. He didn’t completely understand the financial numbers yet, but he understood company names.

The old batch of lightweight prop armor had been purchased prior to the budget adjustment. The supplier was a well-established, local prop house in Burbank. There was nothing wrong with this, Jason thought.

However, right below the old batch was a brand-new purchase order. Thirty-six sets of full-sized, metallic-textured armor, totaling a staggering 470,000 USD. Yet Jason had never even heard of the supplier’s name.

His brow furrowed immediately. Logically, all the major prop suppliers in Los Angeles were well-known entities. Companies like Pacific Ocean Prop Factory, ISS, EHP... Anyone who had been in Hollywood for a few years was familiar with these names. Massive blockbusters like *Batman* and *Game of Thrones*, or even small-scale B-movies like the ones his wife, Megan, shot to pad out copyright libraries for film markets—they were all supplied by these same companies. Prop making was an inherently niche industry.

But Jason had never heard of this new vendor. He opened a browser and searched the name. All he found was a bare-bones website, and the company had only been established three months ago.

A company founded three months ago could directly score an order from Del Toro, Netflix, and Li Wei? Moreover, the pricing was excessively high—at least three times more expensive than their previous purchases.

Jason shut his laptop and thought carefully for a moment. The new armor hadn’t arrived yet. According to the expected delivery date on the purchase order, it would take about three more days.

He made up his mind. On the day the shipment arrived, he would personally oversee the inspection. He wanted to see exactly what kind of goods this unheard-of prop supplier was providing. If the merchandise checked out, he was just being paranoid. But if it didn’t...

Wasn’t that exactly what Li Wei had hired him to do?

He glanced out the car window. The skyline above the Burbank studio lots had already been dyed a bloody red by the setting sun.