Chapter 1069: What Was Said and Different Methods

In late May, Barbara called Lance to say she would be coming to the New Golden City in a couple of days.

Wanli Pictures had released many films this year. Furthermore, the "box office revenue-sharing system," driven by the Lance family and Wanli Distribution Company, was rapidly replacing the old fixed-rate film buy-out system, leading more and more people to rely on Lance's distribution company.

Some individuals had already attempted to sue Wanli Film and Television Distribution Company for alleged monopoly. If not for a few other major production companies also promoting their own revenue-sharing models, they might actually have succeeded.

Many people had spotted the enormous profits here, like sharks sniffing blood, accelerating toward the opportunity from afar.

For every movie ticket sold for a film distributed by Wanli Film and Television Distribution Company, Lance received two cents in commission.

While two cents might not sound like much, a single film typically sold hundreds of thousands of tickets across the Federation. Movies that were reasonably well-made and had a passable story often sold several million tickets.

Extremely popular, successful films sold over ten million tickets.

Using five million tickets as a benchmark, this provided Wanli Distribution Company with a commission of $150,000.

Currently, the company released at least forty films a year. Even accounting for some lower-quality films, the total revenue from this sector alone was between $3 million and $4 million.

This was no small sum in this era.

Many listed companies had annual profits of similar size, and this was only one part of the entire Wanli Group.

Then there was the continuously expanding theater chain system, which carved out a massive share of the box office revenue, followed by the talent agencies, and the most crucial element in the film industry: the production companies.

Wanli Pictures produced about fifty films annually. They utilized their internal system, so those costs were not separately itemized.

Some were big-budget productions, and some were small-budget.

As people's incomes rose, more people were willing to buy tickets and enjoy a good time at the cinema with their families.

The flourishing film industry also attracted more public attention. Color films, which offered brighter colors, were already appearing and were about to be widely promoted.

The film industry was developing at an increasing speed, attracting more people to the field, and consequently, intensifying internal competition.

Barbara was one of the core leading actresses at Wanli Pictures. On one hand, she was Lance's wife's sister. On the other hand, she possessed excellent qualities in all aspects and had gained a significant number of fans and admirers on the big screen.

It was rumored that people occasionally drove convertible sports cars to the film company, waiting for Barbara to finish work. Unfortunately, there had been no news of any romance involving Barbara so far.

While this seemed unbelievable to people, it also felt somewhat natural.

How could such an exceptional woman fall into the "grave of marriage" so early?

Many people felt that if Barbara were to marry, she would leave the film industry. People did not want her to leave so soon; she should create more excellent works before departing, not now.

The period from June to August was the peak season for film releases during the Federal summer vacation, including many big-budget films.

Demand for entertainment increased during the summer break, and students, now free from school, were willing to try new things or watch films they knew little about.

Therefore, this was a massive market everyone competed for, and the period of most intense "slaughter."

Barbara was coming to the New Golden City at the end of the month to promote the upcoming film, My War—a patriotic war film in which Barbara played a nurse accompanying the troops.

Because Lance disliked romanticizing war, the war films produced by the company had a feeling completely different from those made by other film companies.

Other companies constantly magnified the love story between the male and female leads, masking the brutality of war.

Last year, a "Top Ten War Film Scenes" was judged, and the top-ranked scene was the moment the male lead, covered in blood and wounds after leaving the battlefield, saw the female lead and passionately kissed her.

The shot, which started zoomed in, slowly zoomed out as they kissed, creating a very unique feeling.

Some film critics called it the "Best Make-out Scene" of the year. The lead actors, both very famous, took first place in the ranking.

Wanli Pictures did not have a film selected last year because their movies tended to focus more on the brutal reality of war.

The directors brought back extensive, useful war footage from the battlefield, establishing a war material library.

When shooting war films, they would edit some of this genuine footage into the movie, which sometimes caused physical discomfort in some viewers.

Of course, the company publicly explained that these were all actors and props, which unexpectedly earned them the "Film Association's Best Prop Award" for the year—a pleasant surprise.

As for whether they made a profit, that was secondary; what mattered was accurately reproducing the cruelty of war, letting the film's artistic merit speak for itself.

Profit was handled through other channels.

Lance could secure subsidies from Congress for patriotic cultural promotion, plus local tax rebates. It wasn't wildly profitable, but it was certainly profitable.

The market was gradually starting to accept such films. People were tired of seeing male and female leads crawl out of trenches to embrace and kiss passionately on a battlefield where bullets flew. Instead, Wanli Pictures' brutal films were starting to become popular.

The company decided to increase promotional efforts, aiming for significant success in the summer film season, if not outstanding results.

Barbara heard Lance was in the New Golden City and proactively called him.

Lance did not refuse the request for him to host Barbara. He had many residences here; hosting Barbara, or even the entire film crew, was no issue.

The two days passed quickly. Lance picked up Barbara at the train station. The accompanying crew members saw Barbara leave with Lance and said nothing.

The producer initially wanted to stop them, but his assistant held him back. The assistant looked at him like he was an idiot. "That's Mr. Lance White. Do you want to lose your job?"

Lance was not only the Honorary Chairman of Wanli Pictures' board but also the Honorary Chairman of the Film Association. Although he rarely involved himself directly in these matters, his influence in the film industry was profound.

Furthermore, he had numerous enterprises under his control, ties to Congress, and was now reportedly a key advisor to a foreign nation, coordinating negotiations between the Federation and Rapa.

Not to mention the numerous inconvenient identities he held!

Stopping such a person was akin to seeking death.

The producer looked distressed. "Then what about tomorrow's promotion?"

His assistant could only look resigned. "That depends on whether Barbara can remember the event."

As for disturbing them?

Forget about it.

The producer conceded that his assistant was right. It was far wiser not to offend Lance than to ensure Barbara attended the promotional event.

Offending Lance could instantly ruin their future in this industry.

There was no need to jeopardize everything over a trivial matter.

Wanli Pictures was wonderful because anyone could pitch a project. Even the company's janitors, provided they had a complete plan, could apply for project funding.

No one wanted to lose such a good job.

Barbara sat in the car, tapping the thick glass window curiously. "Your car looks different from the ones in Golden Port City."

Lance nodded, introducing the vehicle. "This is an armored car."

Barbara suddenly remembered that the man next to her had many identities, some of which exposed him to constant risk.

"Does someone try to assassinate you?" she asked, truly curious.

Lance still nodded. "Yes, I am frequently targeted for assassination, more than once."

"But my luck is good enough to keep me alive. So, I chose an armored car. At least I can face trouble more calmly."

Barbara was fascinated by the car. "This must be very expensive."

"Around fifty thousand dollars ($50,000)."

She gasped lightly at the price. "You really spare no expense!"

Lance chuckled. It was only tens of thousands of dollars.

Just as they were chatting about the new movie, the motorcade suddenly slowed down. Lance paused his conversation with Barbara and looked ahead.

There was a congestion of cars ahead.

Turning left at the upcoming intersection led to Deterland Avenue. Congestion here was normal and usually cleared quickly; Lance could already see police cars.

"We might have to wait a moment," he said.

Barbara didn't object. She hoped to spend more time alone with Lance.

She scooted closer to him. "I know you've been here. Before I came, I called Patricia. Do you know what we talked about?"

Lance looked away from the window, asking curiously, "What did you talk about?"

Barbara's attention was briefly drawn to a pedestrian outside Lance's window whose expression was somewhat distorted. As an actress and a successful performing artist, she was acutely aware of the complexity of human expressions.

But she only glanced for a moment before returning her attention to Lance's face.

Cooper, the man outside, likely didn't know that just a second ago, he was less than five meters away from the "answer" he desperately sought.

But even if he knew, it wouldn't matter. He couldn't directly confront a major figure like Lance, nor could he demand any compensation from him.

This was a carefully orchestrated harvesting game, using greed as bait to lure in those whose avarice could never be satisfied, and then wiping them out.

The financial market was always this way. When a person constantly immersed themselves in stories of others getting rich quickly, they too would yearn to become the subject of such stories.

Even knowing the tremendous risk involved, they wouldn't easily give up. After all... what if?

Failure and success are always separated by a single step. Even in this terrible disaster, some successfully escaped, having liquidated their holdings halfway or near the peak, becoming new miracles on Deterland Avenue.

Miracles and disasters run side by side. People ultimately only see the living miracles, not the living disasters.

Cooper was running quickly toward the exchange. The disposal plan was due today. The egregious nature of the case was too severe; the Financial Management Committee and Congress were treating it seriously.

They had investigated the general situation with unimaginable speed, making today the "final chapter" of this game.

Cooper ran so fast he nearly lost his shoe. His panic, anticipation, anxiety, unease, and terror—the flood of emotions made him look like he was going through something horrific.

When he reached the entrance of the exchange, a large crowd had already gathered. He noticed a specific detail.

There were not only police officers but also agents wearing FBI uniforms. They were present too.

The power of the FBI was quietly expanding. Congress and the President both sought greater authority, and in the Federation, the judiciary was a concrete manifestation of power.

The FBI Director had requested a joint investigation, and considering the convenience he offered, the President had agreed.

Of course, these were all details Cooper neither knew nor needed to know. He arrived, gasping for breath, and looked up at the Financial Management Committee official standing on a raised platform.

"...The top executives and board members of Hope Mining have all fled the Federation. We are currently unaware of their whereabouts."

"We officially confirmed with the new Rapa government that Hope Mining acquired mines that had entirely exhausted their extraction value, purchased for a total price of no more than five hundred thousand Federal Sols ($500,000)."

"They falsified extraction records and bought ore from other mines, exploiting the information blackout and isolation during the Rapa civil war to create a knowledge gap."

"Furthermore, we have gathered evidence from multiple departments showing they used money to corrupt officials, enabling them to quickly gain approval for the public listing."

"The personnel involved in these violations have been suspended and face prosecution."

"We will continue to monitor the absconded funds and personnel. Any news will be immediately published in the Investor's Report and Finance Magazine."

"Based on our current asset valuation of Hope Mining, the actual assets belonging to the company amount to approximately $270,000."

"There are about 55 million shares outstanding. Our initial compensation plan dictates that for every two shares held, you will receive one cent ($0.01) in compensation."

"As we recover more funds later, the compensated amount will increase. We will continue to follow and track this case, so please retain your stock certificates..."

Cooper was drenched in sweat. Running was one reason, but the more significant reason was the compensation plan they offered.

Two shares for one cent?

F***!

His body trembled. Although he had anticipated this outcome a few days ago, the moment the reality descended, he couldn't control his heart racing, his gasping breath, the feeling that he was about to collapse!

He tightly clutched the envelope he was holding and heard only the shouting voices of the "victims" in his head. Numbly, he walked over to the registration area.

He wasn't a financial insider. He didn't realize that 99% of that money was unrecoverable.

The Financial Management Committee offered this disposal plan merely to control them with a vague hope: What if?

Just as they believed the stock might surge, what if they really caught the culprits and recovered the money?

Others were still "besieging" the Financial Management Committee officials, but Cooper was already at the registration table.

There weren't many people lining up here; those who were, like Cooper, were "outsiders."

He looked back. He had seen the stockbroker earlier, but in the blink of an eye, the man was gone.

He staggered forward with the line until he reached the desk. He presented his stock certificates. "I have twenty thousand three hundred fifty shares."

He then stated his name, home address, and phone number.

The staff registered his information, then signed a check for him. "This is your first installment of compensation."

He was now completely devoid of any expectation. He picked up the check and glanced at it, feeling dizzy. "One hundred seventeen dollars and five cents ($117.05)?"

The staff member offered a smiling, yet regretful, expression. "I'm afraid so, sir."

Cooper couldn't help but laugh bitterly. "What the hell am I supposed to do with this?"

The staff member, having likely encountered similar situations many times, said, "Sir, you can enjoy a good meal here, buy a ticket home, and start your life over."

"I believe that if you could earn this much money through your hard work before, you can do it again now!"

Cooper was distraught. His movements became slightly erratic, causing a nearby police officer to rest his hand on his holster.

This instantly sobered Cooper. "You're right. It's my fault."

He considered tearing up the check, but ultimately stuffed it into his pocket.

He still had many problems to solve, such as his bank credit notes, totaling perhaps one or two thousand dollars, or more?

He couldn't recall.

Just as he turned, his eyes full of confusion as he looked at this luxurious, decadent world, a sudden loud sound erupted near his ear, shaking the ground.

The noisy, shouting crowd suddenly fell silent, followed by even sharper screams.

Cooper touched the hot liquid on his face, then turned to look at the figure crumpled beneath a desk. The man's eyes had been forced out by the immense pressure, rolling onto the floor near Cooper's feet.

Although the man's features were completely collapsed, twisted, and deformed, Cooper still recognized him: it was his stockbroker.