Chapter 431: The New Shareholders’ Meeting

Chapter 431: Chapter 431: The New Shareholders’ Meeting

The online public opinion surrounding Brokeback Mountain had officially gotten on track, fermenting perfectly according to the counter-hype path Irene Coppola had predetermined.

The subject matter that others scrambled to avoid was skillfully handled by her, transforming from a controversial art film into a critically acclaimed work discussed by the entire nation.

The reputation of this work even drove a significant increase in the general public’s acceptance of homosexuality compared to before.

This group was no longer seen as a virus that people desperately avoided, and many homosexual couples took to the internet to thank Director Ang Lee for his achievement.

Seeing that the situation had completely stabilised, Irene Coppola put the matter aside entirely, no longer investing any extra energy into it.

For her, the core purpose of this public opinion game was never about chasing box office numbers or generating hype. She had only one goal: to lay a solid foundation of reputation and steadily secure the qualification to compete for an Oscar.

As long as she could successfully secure nominations for the major Oscar awards in the end, all the preliminary planning would be considered a complete success. The rest of the traffic disputes and netizens’ quarrels were all insignificant.

Time quietly turned the page; the old year ended, and the new year arrived as scheduled.

The hustle and bustle of Hollywood’s lights and shadows continued to change ceaselessly, but for Irene Coppola, after the reputation of Brokeback Mountain had been established, the most critical and core highlight in the near future was the long-brewing Marvel chess game.

The annual Marvel shareholders’ meeting was held as scheduled.

And this meeting was destined to stir up a bloody storm that would sweep through the top echelons of Marvel.

It had been over a month since Chen Shiyu uncovered the top-secret inside information that Isaac Perlmutter had privately mortgaged Super Hero copyrights, taken out loans to play the stock market, and was deeply mired in a debt crisis.

During this month, Irene Coppola had silently organised the perfected, evidence-backed inside information and selectively shared it with several core major shareholders within Marvel who held real power and were capable of taking charge, all while hiding her own identity.

A full thirty-plus days of undercurrents and private fermentation had long since caused resentment to skyrocket and undercurrents to surge within Marvel’s upper management.

Now that the shareholders’ meeting had officially convened, it was time to test the results of the layout.

Irene Coppola, with a calm expression and composed steps, once again stepped into the top-tier conference room located on the top floor of the Marvel building.

Just as she pushed the door open and entered, she clearly sensed that the atmosphere in the venue today was completely different from the last time, practically worlds apart.

At the previous shareholders’ meeting, although Marvel’s financial situation was similarly bleak, with revenue continuing to be sluggish and project profitability weak, and the shareholders harboured dissatisfaction and complained incessantly, they had always maintained a surface level of peace and restraint.

Fundamentally, Marvel’s decline had existed for a long time, and it had been in an industry slump for years, so everyone was long accustomed to the company’s tepid state.

Even by relying on the external licensing of scattered Hero copyrights and film and television cooperation dividends, the company could still maintain meagre revenue each year to barely support operations. Although the shareholders had grievances, they were far from reaching the point of completely falling out and overthrowing the management.

But the conference room today was suffocatingly oppressive.

There was none of the relaxed atmosphere of small talk from the past, no soft murmurs of conversation; the entire space was silent and cold, the air seeming to have solidified and frozen.

Looking up, the vast majority of the shareholders present had ashen faces and dark expressions, their brows heavy with long-suppressed anger and fury. Everyone’s expression was incomparably grave, with surging storms hidden in the depths of their eyes, ready to erupt.

Most people knew clearly that today’s meeting was destined to thoroughly settle the management’s culpability and resolve the long-standing hidden dangers.

Irene Coppola understood everything in her heart, but she did not reveal a single flaw on her face.

She pretended to know nothing the entire time, her expression relaxed and indifferent. She sat down calmly in a seat by the window, even raising a hand to signal her accompanying assistant to slowly pour her a cup of warm black tea.

Her posture was leisurely and calm, as if she had only come to listen in on an ordinary annual meeting, appearing completely out of place with the tense and oppressive atmosphere around her.

Sitting in the adjacent seat next to her was a young, new-generation individual shareholder, Baker Charles.

Only in his early twenties, the shares in his hands were all inherited from his father’s generation. Like Irene Coppola, he belonged to the fresh force within the Marvel shareholder circle with shallow qualifications and having entered the game not long ago, drifting outside the core power struggle, and knowing nothing about the secret inside information of the company’s senior management.

Seeing Irene Coppola’s calm and composed appearance, Baker turned slightly, lowered his voice, and with a touch of youthful naivety and curiosity, took the initiative to strike up a conversation.

"Hi, Irene Coppola! I am Baker Charles. This is my first time attending a Marvel shareholders’ meeting." The young man’s eyes held a genuine, admiring smile, and his tone was light. "Come to think of it, I am actually a loyal fan of yours. I have watched Pirates of the Caribbean, which you directed, countless times. It is simply stunning!"

Irene Coppola turned her head slightly upon hearing this, a gentle and polite smile lifting the corners of her lips, and responded softly, "Hello, Baker. It is nice to meet you, and thank you for your appreciation and support."

After the simple pleasantries, Baker could not help but frown. He cautiously looked around the dead-silent and oppressive venue, lowered his voice again, and asked with confusion,

"Speaking of which, Irene Coppola, do you not think today’s atmosphere is particularly strange? It is too heavy and oppressive, completely different from the scenes my father described in previous years. It feels like everyone is in a terrible mood. What on earth happened?"

Irene Coppola continued to play dumb, her tone flat and natural, perfectly feigning ignorance: "It is indeed a bit oppressive. I suppose it is because the company’s annual revenue last year still fell short of expectations and continued to lose money, so everyone is inevitably dissatisfied."

This explanation was reasonable and perfectly aligned with the understanding of ordinary shareholders.

Baker did not have the slightest doubt after hearing this, nodded along, muttered "No wonder it is so serious" under his breath, then put away his curiosity, straightened his posture back to his seat, and completely set aside any thoughts of prying further.

Irene Coppola’s peripheral vision swept across the room, her gaze landing precisely on those few core shareholders who had received the inside information she had compiled in advance.

Unlike the ignorant new-generation small shareholders, these powerful big shots were currently all grim-faced and solemn, their brows filled with fury and disappointment.

After taking their seats, everyone remained silent throughout, occasionally exchanging glances and making veiled eye contact, silently conveying a unified attitude. A silent tacit understanding and confrontation quietly formed in the venue.

Irene Coppola’s layout had always been meticulous and comprehensive, planned step by step.

When distributing the inside information, she had precisely screened and treated them differently, targeting only a few core major shareholders who held real power, were capable of taking the lead, had the ability to shake up the situation, and were at odds with Isaac Perlmutter himself.

As for the remaining scattered small shareholders and the newcomers with weak influence, she kept the news completely hidden from them, leaving no leaks.

Those major shareholders did not reveal the news either, possibly fearing that if Isaac Perlmutter found out in advance, he would launch a counterattack.

She needed this information asymmetry, and she also needed this camouflage of her identity.

She deliberately hid herself among the crowd of uninformed small shareholders, transforming into an unthreatening, ignorant, and bystander third party, not choosing a side in advance, not revealing her ambition, and not triggering anyone’s wariness.

All she had to do was quietly wait for the Perlmutter Family and the veteran shareholders to completely tear off their masks and engage in a head-on melee.

When both sides were battered and the situation was chaotic, she would then quietly enter the game, firmly control the entire situation, and ultimately stand in an invincible position, reaping the rewards.

Time slowly ticked by, the participating shareholders all arrived, and the venue doors were completely closed.