Late at night, Studebaker left the banquet hall amidst the compliments of the crowd as the party at the Silicondo Hotel came to an end.
Studebaker was a well-known Hollywood director. Ever since he entered the industry at the age of twenty-five, he had shot a total of forty movies to date. Two of them had grossed more than seven hundred million dollars at the box office and entered the top one hundred in Hollywood history.
He was only forty-five years old this year and was at the peak of his career.
Some time ago, his new script had just been completed and had been handed over to the producers.
However, Studebaker was not satisfied with the script.
Obviously, there were too many meaningless elements in the script. Many of the settings were used to highlight the so-called scientific and logical nature of the plot, but at the expense of entertainment value. This was very unreasonable in a commercial blockbuster that pursued the box office.
After all, the audience came to the theater to pursue an audiovisual feast, not to look for logic.
Unfortunately, this script was given to him by the Edwards family, who had specifically requested that he be the one to film it.
Although this plutocrat kept a low profile, everyone in the industry knew that they controlled at least one-fifth of Hollywood.
In the face of this level of capital, Studebaker had no room to refuse.
Therefore, under the circumstances where he could not change the general plot, Studebaker could only work on the characterization of the characters.
Left with no other choice, Studebaker finally decided to make the villains extremely powerful. In order to highlight the mysteriousness, he did not even explain who the villains were until the end. Instead, he gave an open ending...
Did the protagonist finally pass the drug to the board of directors? Did he succeed, or did he fail?
Nobody knew.
Obviously, this kind of filming was extremely daring. If it was not done well, it would be criticized by the major rating websites and be worthless. However, if it was successful, there was some hope of a comeback.
Now, he could only hope that the movie could earn more than two hundred million dollars at the box office after it was released.
Studebaker secretly prayed that if it did not reach two hundred million dollars, the Edwards family would lose money. Not only would his future be in danger, but his reputation would also be greatly diminished.
However, he could only keep these worries to himself. On the surface, Studebaker still maintained an extremely high level of confidence. As the party ended, Studebaker left the Silicondo Hotel, surrounded by the masses.
After finding his car in the parking lot, Studebaker made a rough estimation. He had only drunk two cans of beer and two hours had passed. His current blood alcohol level should not exceed 0.05.
It was not illegal to drive in North America when the BAC was less than 0.05.
After all, he was only forty-five years old. He still had a lot of time to work hard and live his life. Studebaker did not want to ruin his bright future because of a little alcohol.
After confirming that his condition would not affect his driving, Studebaker cautiously got into the car. However, before he could start the engine, he suddenly felt an inexplicable chill behind him.
It was as if someone was sitting on the seat behind him …
Studebaker instinctively turned around, only to find that it was empty behind him. There was no one in his backseat.
Was it an illusion?
Studebaker furrowed his brows. It seemed like he would have to drink less in the future.
As the car started to move slowly, the illusion that there was someone in the backseat lingered. Studebaker had no choice but to turn on the car stereo. Instantly, a punk rock song from the eighties began to play.
Studebaker hummed along to the music as he drove home.
When the car drove out of the city and into the deserted suburbs, Studebaker suddenly felt a chill again. He could not help but look at the rearview mirror and suddenly shuddered!
Unbeknownst to him, a stranger was sitting in his backseat, staring straight at him!
Screech!
Studebaker instinctively stepped on the brakes. The entire car screeched to a halt in the middle of the road!
Was it an illusion caused by too much alcohol? Or …
Studebaker gripped the steering wheel tightly. Cold sweat trickled down his forehead. He suppressed the fear in his heart and slowly turned to look at the backseat...
"Mr. Studebaker, it's me."
However, before he could confirm whether all this was an illusion or not, the person in the backseat suddenly spoke.
The man spoke with a Chinese accent. "Our boss wants to see you."
"Mr., Mr. Cheng Cao?"
At this point, Studebaker finally saw clearly that the man in the backseat was Producer Fang!
"Mr. Cheng Cao, why are you in my car?"
Studebaker looked wary. However, before he could press the alarm button, he suddenly felt a numbness at the back of his neck. The other party seemed to have injected him with something!
Studebaker's heart sank. Just as he was about to resist, a sudden wave of drowsiness washed over him like a flash flood. He did not even have time to press the alarm button before he completely lost consciousness.
...
Los Angeles suburbs. Inside a dimly lit, abandoned warehouse.
Chen Chen sat in the warehouse, fiddling with a pendant around his neck. Not long after, he saw an unfamiliar car stop outside the warehouse.
The car door opened and Cheng Cao strode in. He was carrying an unconscious man on his shoulder.
"Boss, this is Mr. Studebaker, the director of our movie."
Cheng Cao placed the man on a chair, then scooped out a basin of water and poured it directly on the man's forehead.
Stimulated by this, the unconscious man could not help but shiver and slowly opened his eyes.
Seeing that the man had awakened, Cheng Cao turned around and walked out of the warehouse. He stood guard outside to prevent anyone from approaching.
Chen Chen silently watched the man. He had seen this man several times on the Internet. He was quite well-known and could be considered a director close to the top of Hollywood.
At this time, as he woke up, Studebaker's eyes gradually regained focus. He first looked around, then revealed a blank expression.
"Who... Who are you? Where, where am I? "
"Mr. Studebaker, I'm sorry to meet you in this manner. Allow me to introduce myself."
Chen Chen spoke lightly, his voice had a unique hoarseness to it. "My name is Chen Chen. I'm the owner of a company and also the investor of the movie you're filming."
"Investor?" Studebaker wanted to stand up but felt weak all over. He could only hold his head and whisper, "What do you want? I've finished filming the movie according to your request. What's going on with my body..."
"Mr. Studebaker, we mean you no harm. You're just under the influence of a little tranquilizer. You'll recover in a few hours."
With that, Chen Chen walked out of the shadows of the warehouse, walked to the dilapidated desk, and gently pressed a button.
At once, ethereal music flowed out.
In the dim light, Studebaker saw that there was a tape recorder and a pack of cigarettes on the desk.
"Do you smoke, Mr. Studebaker?"
Chen Chen took out two cigarettes from the pack and handed one to Studebaker. Studebaker wanted to refuse at first but was afraid that Chen Chen would get angry, so he accepted it.
Chen Chen lit the cigarette first and then held the lighter in front of Studebaker.
"Mr. Studebaker, please look here..."
"Click!"
Along with the crisp sound of rolling wheels rubbing against flint, a gorgeous flame slowly rose.
In the ethereal music, Studebaker felt as if Chen Chen had blown a puff of smoke on his face.
"Mr. Studebaker, I'll count to one and you'll return to the day you filmed the movie..."
It seemed as if someone was whispering something in his ear but at this time, Studebaker could no longer hear it. His eyes fell into a daze again as if there was only that gorgeous flame left in the entire world...
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