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Chapter 602 - Chapter 602: The Devastated Jurassic Park

[Chapter 691: The Devastated Jurassic Park]

The arrival of new electronic products sparked a shopping frenzy in the U.S. There was a saying that went, "Good fortune never comes in pairs."

Well, William White was happy for but a couple of days. Bad news arrived from Jurassic Park in the Bahamas: the hurricane was severe, causing significant damage to the park's various facilities.

Hurricanes and tornadoes were unavoidable realities in the U.S., and William White hardly paid them much mind. Closing the park and dispersing the staff was all he had to do.

"Tanner, how bad is it? We have hurricanes every year; why is this one so severe?"

"Two people are seriously injured. If it weren't for prompt rescue efforts, this would have turned into a real mess."

"Ugh, has the hurricane stopped? The island's medical facilities seem inadequate."

"Uh, master, the hurricane is still raging. I don't know what's gotten into it; this has been going on for three days now, and it's still not over. Don't worry about the medical facilities; when those soldiers withdrew, they didn't take any of the facilities apart."

"Once the hurricane passes, get the airport cleared right away. People still need to return to the U.S. safely. Oh, and I have other arrangements to manage, so keep an eye on the hurricane's movements."

William White had many bases overseas, setting aside the chaos of the African continent for now.

The management of the Bahamas was supposed to be quite loose; as long as one didn't go too overboard, they could do pretty much whatever they wanted. With several islands under his control, in a way, William White was akin to a feudal lord.

Unfortunately, this damned place had hurricanes once or twice every year. The pink sandy beaches that one saw were, in reality, remnants of shells.

The sand was soft and posed no risk of cutting feet. When people played, they had a blast, but when the hurricane hit, it was a different story. If there were a god in this world, it was safe to say that this sea area had been cursed by the god of winds.

The combination of hurricanes and tornadoes wasn't particularly delightful. Just as William White pondered this, Hurricane Andrew had already begun wreaking havoc in Arizona.

"James, time is of the essence; once the hurricane stops, get your team over there."

"Sir, who's left on the island at this time?"

William White shook his head with a wry smile. "James, human life is more important. I love movies, but I'm not insane. Two guys are already injured; I hope those security cameras are still operational."

He and James Cameron both understood what those videotapes represented. When you shot a disaster movie, it wasn't like tornadoes just conveniently showed up.

"I got it, Mr. White; let's wish them luck. This damned hurricane has been going on for far too long; why is it not over yet?"

...

Speaking of misfortune, Bush Sr. had really hit hard times. With the massive pit in Los Angeles still needing to be addressed, now a hurricane was stepping into the mix. The current situation suggested that resolving this would take at least a hundred billion dollars.

People may not be superstitious and might not pray for something specific, they certainly believed in good luck.

The reason why William White's company had a high valuation was that many investors believed in his luck. Since Bush Sr. had such poor luck, it was better for them not to cast their votes for him.

Don't think this was a joke; the countdown to the election had already begun. Any little incident could swing the final outcome.

There was no dispute that U.S. military might was the best in the world. As for rescue capabilities -- well, that left much to be desired.

Damn it, when you guys were grabbing the land, did you ever consider that managing such a vast area was no simple task?

Donate some supplies? Well, rich Americans more often prayed to God than donated. Contributions were not as common as one might think. The primary responsibility lay with FEMA, and that could not be mistaken.

However, of course, if something happened back home, expressions of aid were essential. Generally speaking, church assistance would cover that -- end of story.

...

"Darling, are you planning to shoot a sequel?"

"Nastassja, why do you ask that? The Blade series is still unfinished, and besides, Spielberg isn't considering sequels either."

"So, are you saying you want James Cameron to take over?"

"That's something we'll see. You know how it is, Nastassja; there's no cure for the affliction of pretentiousness."

"Come on, the most pretentious one would have to be you, right?"

"Haha, it's different; profit is what I prioritize. What's the discussion today, Nastassja?"

The beautiful girl gave him a look; he certainly had come here to ask about scheduling. If possible, summer was the preferred time slot.

"Well, this film is rather niche; I won't be pouring too much money into the promotion. A high starting point isn't necessary for the franchise's beginning."

"What? You mean you're planning a Blade series?"

William White wore a mysterious smile. He meant to do much more than just a Blade series. In fact, he had plans to launch a vampire franchise. From Blade to Underworld; and if that wasn't enough, there was always the Twilight series. If he truly felt bored, there was even Fifty Shades of Grey, the ultimate killer app.

Don't think for a second that people were completely open-minded. Sure, some were, but most were still pretty dull.

Why had The Bridges of Madison County become a classic?

To put it bluntly, most folks lived pretty miserable lives. Without the guidance of the Bible, they likely wouldn't have handled marital duties very well.

There was no joking about that; what appeared in those films came directly from big cities. It was far from universal.

"Nastassja, I'm not just planning the Blade series; actually, I'm looking to craft a vampire franchise."

"Is that it? Underworld?" she said, picking up a script from William White's desk.

"How do you feel? Does it have a stunning vibe?"

"Leather skirt? You really do have a peculiar taste." Nastassja gave William White an amused look, as if to say he was at it again with the roleplay.

"What are you talking about? I'm the Virgin Mary of Environmental Protection. This is made of PU. In fact, I had them custom-make an outfit based on your measurements, so if you're not interested, I'll find someone else." He swallowed hard at that statement. Well, the way William White appeared now was more than a bit lascivious, and she just couldn't comprehend why he only acted this way during roleplay scenarios.

Nastassja didn't mind and became bold in front of William White.

"Darling, help me out; it seems a bit tight."

"Are you sure? Let me check; are your breasts growing? Oh my God, could this be my hard work paying off?"

The beautiful lady ignored him.

The fitting session took a considerable amount of time, and nearly two hours later, they finally completed the process.

"Perfect! The outer corners of your eyes should be lifted; this look requires cool elegance. Did you put on blush?"

"Hmph, that's the result of my extreme satisfaction. If you want elegance, you shouldn't have worked so hard."

"Didn't some guy just moments ago refuse to drop the subject? Oh boy, my lower back can't take it anymore."

With that obstacle cleared, the next step was, of course, to go over the script. Overall, Nastassja was still pretty satisfied, even though the expression on the coffee assistant's face had been a little off.

Of course, while the coffee tasted rich, it didn't counteract those peculiar scents.

But Nastassja didn't care. In Hollywood, who didn't know she was William White's girl?

*****

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