"How on earth did you get into this?" Sean asked, startled when he saw the three screenwriters again three days later. They looked disheveled—greasy hair, bloodshot eyes, and dirty clothes, resembling homeless people on the streets.
"Did they not feed you or let you sleep? How did you all end up like this?"
The three of them stared blankly at Sean. No, the gangsters hadn't physically abused them, but they certainly gave off a menacing vibe.
Just imagine the pressure if you can't submit a decent script—how could you possibly sleep at night?
Sean clicked his tongue, taking the scripts from the three of them. Since he couldn't decipher the storyboard, he simply instructed them to write a narrative based on the scenes.
As the three screenwriters anxiously watched Sean review their work, they felt more nervous than they did on their first dates.
The scripts weren't long, and Sean managed to read through all three in just over half an hour.
Sitting there with a furrowed brow, he fell into deep thought. He wasn't sure whether the stories were good or not—he wasn't a professional, after all. The scripts seemed sound enough; many similar films had found success.
Glancing at the three of them, Sean waved his hand. "Go rest for a bit. We'll talk later."
One of them hesitantly replied, "I can't sleep!"
Sean chuckled, "Relax! I was just messing with you. Those gangsters won't actually throw you into the sea. If they try, I'll be sure to get revenge!"
"What good is revenge?" they thought, though they felt some tension ease as exhaustion washed over them.
The next day, they returned looking noticeably better. They reviewed other scripts and identified the exciting elements, particularly the planning stages of the robbers from earlier drafts. Although Sean initially intended to merely highlight the 'necessary process for scientific robbery,' he realized it could also be profitable.
After the three of them revised the script thoroughly, Sean brought in old Mike, a retired police officer, and Armstrong, an intelligence expert, to provide professional insight on the inconsistencies in the robbery investigation sequences.
"Don't focus on artistry; strive for authenticity!" Sean emphasized.
After guiding them through some less thrilling parts, like the gunfights, it took a week before the entire script was finalized.
According to the screenwriters, the script was solid; the next steps depended on finding a director and a production company.
However, Sean believed they should focus first on acquiring a film company and a financial partner before seeking a director.
Breaking into Hollywood had always been part of Sean's plan, and he had no intention of leaving once he got in!
As for why he aimed to acquire an existing company instead of starting fresh, it was often more cost-effective. The acquisition price might not be as high as one would think.
For this, he relied on Lamb Wiley.
To be honest, Sean had never realized how aggressive American accountants could be! Accountants are typically very ethical, strictly adhering to financial principles.
As a partner at the New York branch of Price Waterhouse Certified Public Accountants, Lamb had the resources to assist clients, including acquiring struggling Hollywood companies on the brink of bankruptcy.
In Puhua's view, helping clients sell off their failing assets was just good business, and it didn't violate any regulations.
Holding a thick stack of company profiles, Sean aimed to select the least wasteful option among these failing enterprises.
Each company had potential, having produced some successful projects in the past. So why were they facing bankruptcy now?
Lamb examined the documents and said, "The last two films this company invested in lost money. They're poorly managed. This one is similar, but if you take over and make adjustments, it might still work."
"What about this one? It's valued at over $800,000, yet the selling price is only $400,000. What's going on?" Sean asked.
After reviewing the situation, Lamb shook his head and said, "I don't recommend choosing this one. It's a shell company, and the boss is a complete jerk. He's in serious trouble."
"Oh really?" Sean perked up, intrigued. He often believed that if someone couldn't even manage to do bad things well, they probably weren't capable of doing good things either. "What kind of trouble are we talking about?"
Lamb explained, "This company is essentially a front for money laundering. The source of their funds isn't clean, and their accounts are a mess. Plus, the owner is a con artist, having partnered with others to swindle numerous investors. His operations are chaotic, often hosting parties for clients and engaging in various illicit activities."
"That sounds par for the course in Hollywood," Sean remarked. "But what's the latest on this guy?"
Lamb smiled. "Well, he's been particularly unlucky lately. According to company news, one of his clients is being investigated by the police, which could have repercussions for his business. He recently set up an account with the company, and to avoid trouble, he's looking to transfer ownership. The incoming owner will inherit the mess."
"And what kind of client are we talking about?" Sean asked.
"I'm not sure, but the money originated from New Mexico."
"A drug dealer?" Sean smirked. "That sounds promising."
Lamb shrugged, uncertain.
Sean tapped the document thoughtfully, then looked up. "We need to meet this shady character, Norris Dennis."
"I excel at cleaning up messes!" he added confidently.
Two days later, in Los Angeles.
At around 3 a.m., Jonas held a note in one hand, checking it against the house number while signaling to the empty space beside him.
Suddenly, a row of gleaming white teeth appeared in the darkness, revealing a tall figure clad in black—Old Hei.
Old Hei pulled out a set of tools and knelt to work on the door lock. After a few moments, there was a soft 'click.' It turned out Old Hei was quite skilled.
He grasped the doorknob tightly, gently pushing the door open as Jonas strode inside.
The villa was two stories tall, with the master bedroom located upstairs. The two made their way directly to the master bedroom.
As the door swung open, they spotted clothes strewn across the floor. On the bed, an overweight man snored loudly, a long-haired woman lying beside him.
"Damn, he looks like he's had a good time!" Jonas remarked.
Stepping closer to the bed, Jonas aimed a gun directly into the fat man's open mouth.
The man jolted awake, gasping for air. Just as he was about to sit up, he realized what was happening and froze, muffled sounds escaping his lips.
The commotion stirred the woman next to him, but she was quickly silenced by a hand reaching out from the darkness.
"Get dressed and come with me, Mr. Norris Dennis," Jonas said coldly, keeping his gun trained on him.
Norris Dennis was panting heavily, drenched in fear. In the dead of night, having a gun pointed at him was enough to terrify anyone.
As he threw off the covers, Jonas stepped back, glancing at Old Hei, who was ready for whatever came next.
"Brother, just give me a moment; I need to rob you!" Old Hei quipped.
An hour passed...