Chapter 79: Concept Companies

Chapter 79: Chapter 79: Concept Companies

In truth, before he even walked through the door, he already knew about the disaster that was Battlefield Earth.

At that moment, he was deeply grateful that he had stayed away from the project and didn’t have to face the CEO’s anger. That distance let him stay calm as he faced Baird.

"Baird, as for Titan A.E., the situation is fairly clear.

All production work on the film, including the complex CGI rendering, was officially finished last week.

The voice acting was completed long ago, and the performances from Matt Damon, Bill Pullman, and Drew Barrymore are all excellent."

He paused for a second, watching Baird’s reaction, then continued. "Right now, the project is in the final wrap-up phase. We’re just waiting to schedule an internal executive screening to lock in the pre-release marketing plan.

In terms of process, everything is moving on schedule. There have been no unexpected issues that would cause delays."

As Baird listened, his tense shoulders seemed to relax a fraction, but the weight in his eyes didn’t lift completely.

He was quiet for a moment, then said in a low voice, "Schedule the internal screening as soon as possible. I want to see it myself. We can’t afford any more surprises."

"Understood," Adelaide said with a sharp nod. "I’ll set it up immediately."

When Irene got up for breakfast, she also saw the headlines tearing Battlefield Earth apart in every major newspaper.

Some even said that while it was unclear whether the film would win over audiences, it would definitely win over the Golden Raspberry Awards. At minimum, it would take Worst Picture, Worst Director, and Worst Actor.

Making a 70-million-dollar movie this bad was an achievement in itself. Roger Christian would probably be saying goodbye to Hollywood for good.

After a quick breakfast, Irene was driven to Silicon Valley to meet Chen Shiyu, who had been waiting for her.

Chen Shiyu now had the anxious, hopeful look of a founder. He had been pushing Irene to come see several internet startups he believed in, and Irene, unable to keep turning him down, finally agreed.

She came today planning to cool off her partner’s enthusiasm.

When they arrived at the first company, they found a chaotic corner of a shared office space. Forget offering Irene and Chen Shiyu water. There wasn’t even a place to stand.

The team was five young people in hoodies, and their idea was an "online pet social platform."

One of them, who seemed to be in charge, dug a stool out of a pile of cardboard boxes so Irene could sit.

"Can I ask what your company’s path to profit is?" Irene asked directly. She was here as an investor, not a charity. Her goal was to make money.

The founders looked at each other. It took a while before one of them answered, but the response was vague. He talked only about "growing the user base" and "building community value."

Irene took a deep breath, feeling her patience wear thin, and asked for their price.

For this prototype, their quote was one million dollars.

When the two of them left the cramped office, neither looked happy, and Chen Shiyu had a sinking feeling that today’s meetings would not go well.

They quickly contacted the second company. Luckily, it was in the same business park, just a few minutes away.

This one was slightly better. They at least had a private office. The company had a website prototype that looked functional, and their main project was personalized news feeds. It sounded more promising and seemed closer to what Chen Shiyu was looking for.

The founder spoke passionately about how their algorithm would change the world, but when Irene pushed for details on data sources, copyright issues, and marketing strategy, his answers were full of technical buzzwords and dodged the core business questions.

Irene asked for the price, just as bluntly as before.

Their asking price was seven million dollars, and they would only sell up to forty-nine percent of the shares.

When they left that company, Irene’s expression was beyond displeased. She was baffled. What gave these places, which barely qualified as workshops, the confidence to quote prices like that?

But she still went with Chen Shiyu to the last company.

She had thought the first company was bad enough, but the third one was in a league of its own. They didn’t even have a project name, just a basic interface and a hundred-page business plan full of wild projections. The actual product barely existed.

And for that empty shell of a plan, they asked for three million dollars.

She didn’t know what other investors thought, but right now she wanted to throw that business plan back in their faces. How did they dare?

Irene practically pushed the door open to leave. She didn’t even want to see the founders’ faces. There wouldn’t be any future meetings anyway.

When they sat down at a street-side cafe, Irene finally couldn’t hold back. She rubbed her temples and complained to Chen Shiyu,

"I understand wanting to move fast in the internet space, but these ’potential stocks’ you picked are honestly just junk."

She pointed toward the office building they had just left.

"A team with only ideas and a slide deck wants seven million dollars? And they won’t even sell a majority stake, just half the company? Do they think money grows on trees? We came here in good faith, and they treated us like fools who throw cash around."

Good grief, at that price, in a few years she could buy two Facebooks.

Her tone was full of disbelief, because she knew exactly how little that future social media empire was valued in its early days. It was nowhere near this absurd.

Chen Shiyu tried to explain. "Irene, this is just how Silicon Valley is right now. Capital is chasing concepts. There are plenty of investors looking at them, which means their tech must have something unique..."

"Tech? What tech? It’s all empty shells," Irene cut him off, her tone turning serious. "Did you notice? None of them have a clear view of where the internet is actually going.

Their plans are full of ’build a platform’ and ’create an ecosystem,’ but how will they do it? How will they handle competition? Who are their real customers? They can’t answer any of that.

They’re just gambling. They’re betting the next trend will blow up and make them rich, and if we invest, we’re betting they’ll win that gamble."

She looked at Chen Shiyu and said earnestly, "I don’t want to gamble blindly. I want projects with a clear path, or truly disruptive potential. Not these shell companies dressed up as internet startups that are really just selling us an expensive fantasy."

Chen Shiyu fell silent. His enthusiasm had been dampened by Irene’s calm, even cold analysis, but he also started to wonder if he had let the frenzy of Silicon Valley cloud his judgment.

Seeing Chen Shiyu’s discouraged expression, Irene softened her tone.

"Let’s keep looking, Shiyu. We need higher standards and we need to do our research first. Don’t bring these workshop-level teams to me again."