Midnight, following the commencement of the party at Silkdoor Hotel, Studebaker left the banquet hall under the adoring reception of the crowd.
Studebaker was a renowned Hollywood director. Ever since his first debut when he was twenty-five years old, he had directed more than forty movies so far. Two of his movies had exceeded 700 million U.S. dollars at the box office and entered the ranks of the top 100 in Hollywood history. He was a man with insurmountable talent.
This year, he was just forty-five years old and was in the prime of his career.
Some time ago, his latest script he received had just been finalized and handed over to the film crew.
However, Studebaker was not particularly satisfied with the script.
It was evident that there was too much pointless filler in the script. Many entertainment values were lost for the sake of so-called scientific and logical film settings. This had always been an unreasonable factor of commercial blockbuster chasing after box office success.
After all, most audiences came to the theaters to pursue a form of audiovisual banquet instead of seeking logical reasoning.
Unfortunately, this script was given to him by the Edwards family and they had specifically requested him to direct it.
Even though this chaebol had always kept a low profile, it was common knowledge among the film industry that they held the reins to at least one-fifth of Hollywood.
Studebaker had no grounds for refusal when faced with such a degree of capitalist control.
Since he could not make drastic changes to the script, Studebaker had to resort to concentrating his efforts on the character writing and development.
Under the odd circumstances, Studebaker decided to make the villains of the story extremely powerful. To emphasize the mysterious aspect, he did not provide much clarification of the identity of the villain even toward the end of the movie as to provide an ambiguous ending —
Did the protagonist manage to pass the drug to the board of directors in the end? Did he succeed or did he fail?
Nobody knew.
Of course, this was a very bold way to narrate a story. Any slip-ups and it would face major criticisms from various critic sites. On the contrary, if executed well, it could very well swing the reception the other way.
For now, his only hope was that the film would have a box office of more than 200 million following its release.
Studebaker silently prayed for it to work out. If it did not achieve 200 million and the Edwards family suffered losses, not only would his future be compromised, but his reputation would also surely take a major hit as well.
Studebaker kept these worries to himself and kept up his supreme level of confidence on the outside. As the party ended, Studebaker left the Silkdoor hotel as the star of the night.
After finding his car in the parking lot, Studebaker gave it a rough estimation. He had only drunk two cans of beer more than two hours ago, the blood alcohol index in his body should not exceed 0.05.
In North America, driving with a BAC reading of less than 0.05 was not deemed illegal.
Since Studebaker was only forty-five years old and still had plenty of time to make a decent life for himself, he was not going to let a bit of alcohol ruin what would be a great life.
After ensuring that his condition should not affect his ability to drive, Studebaker entered his car cautiously. Before he even had time to start the engine, he felt a strange chilling sensation coming from behind him.
It was as if somebody was sitting in the backseat…
Studebaker looked back subconsciously and saw that there was nobody seated in the backseat.
Was it all in his head?
Studebaker made a slight frown. It seemed like it would be wiser to drink less in the future.
As Studebaker began to drive, he still could not shake off the feeling that there was somebody in the backseat. He had no choice but to use the car stereo to drown it out. Punk rock 80’s music immediately came from the stereo systems.
Studebaker sang along to the songs while he drove back home.
When the car left the city and entered the remote suburban area, Studebaker felt another chilling bite up his spine. He could not help but glance into the rearview mirror. What he saw sent shivers across his body!
Without even realizing it, a stranger had appeared in the backseat of his car and was staring back at him!
“Screech!”
Studebaker instinctively stomped on the brakes. The car tires screeched violently before the car came to a halt in the middle of the road!
Was he seeing things because he drank too much? Or was it…
Studebaker clutched the steering wheel with all the strength he could muster, drops of cold sweat dripped down his forehead. He tried his best to suppress his fear and slowly turned toward the backseat…
“Mr. Studebaker, it’s me.”
Before he even had time to verify if it was all in his head, the person in the backseat suddenly spoke.
The man spoke with an accent unique to people from the Mainland, “Our boss would like to meet you.”
“Mi- Mister Cheng Cao?”
It was only then when Studebaker saw that the man in the backseat was the film producer!
“Mr. Cheng Cao, why are you in my car?”
Studebaker had a wary look on his face. Before he could even click the alarm trigger button, he felt a numbness in the back of his neck. The other person seemed to have injected him with some substance!
Studebaker’s heart sank. As he was about to resist, he felt a wave of drowsiness come to him like enormous, billowing waves. Before he had time to trigger the alarm, he had completely lost consciousness.
Inside a dimly-lit abandoned warehouse somewhere around the suburbs of Los Angeles.
Chen Chen sat in the warehouse, toying with a pendant hung around his neck. After a short while, he saw an unfamiliar car parked outside the warehouse.
The door opened. Chen Chen saw Cheng Cao marching toward him with large strides. He was carrying an unconscious man on his shoulders.
“Boss, this is the director of our movie, Mr. Studebaker.”
After setting the man down on a chair, Cheng Cao s copped out a pail of water and splashed it on the man’s forehead.
Upon experiencing a sudden stimulus, the unconscious man awoke abruptly and slowly opened his eyes.
When Cheng Cao saw that the man was awake, he turned around and left the warehouse to stand guard outside in case anyone tried to approach the place.
Chen Chen silently stared at the other person. He had seen this man several times online. This man was relatively popular and was among the ranks of the first-line directors in Hollywood.
As Studebaker woke up, his sight gradually readjusted and regained focus. He first looked around him before showing a dazed look.
“Who.. Are you guys? I, where am I?”
“Mr. Studebaker, accept my sincerest apologies that we have to meet like this. Allow me to introduce myself.”
Chen Chen spoke lightly, carrying a unique hoarse tone when he spoke, “My name is Chen Chen, I’m an owner of a certain company and also an investor of the movie you’re making.”
“Investor?” Studebaker wanted to get up but could not muster the strength to do so. He clutched at his head and asked in a low voice, “What do you want? I’ve already finished filming the movie as you requested. What’s wrong with my body…”
“Mr. Studebaker, we harbor no ill intentions. You’re only under the effect of a bit of tranquilizer, you’ll recover in a few hours.”
As Chen Chen spoke, he exited the dark spot of the warehouse and went to a shabby-looking desk where he clicked a button.
In an instant, there was a burst of ethereal-sounding music playing.
Under the dim lighting, Studebaker saw a tape recorder and a box of cigarettes placed on the table.
“Cigarette, Mr. Studebaker?”
Chen Chen took two cigarettes from the box and handed one to Studebaker. Studebaker initially wanted to refuse but decided against it as to not offend the other party.
Chen Chen lit his cigarette before raising the lighter in front of Studebaker.
“Mr. Studebaker, please look over here…”
“Click!”
A brilliant sprout of flame arose following the clear and sharp spark produced by the roller rubbing against the flint.
Under the atmosphere set by the ethereal music, Studebaker felt as if the other party blew a puff of smoke on his face.
“Mr. Studebaker. I’m going to count to one, you’ll then recall the first day of the film shooting…”
Studebaker felt as if someone was whispering into his ears but he could no longer hear anything at the present moment. His eyes were captured by a daze yet again. He felt like the sprout of flame was the only thing left which occupied the heavens above and the earth below…