The news surrounding the Washington incident was still brewing, and discussions about Batman and the Justice League dominated public discourse.
Anton, however, had already put the matter behind him.
He was back to his regular work routine.
The operation of DC Entertainment remained steady. The only notable highlight was the conclusion of the first season of The Flash series.
Anton noticed on his system dashboard that The Flash fan count had climbed to 23 million.
While still far from the 50 million target, it demonstrated the significant impact a TV series could have.
With the first season wrapped up, preparations for the second season were underway.
At the same time, production for the Smallville series, a prequel to Superman story, was progressing smoothly, with the script finalized and filming begun.
Superman current fan count stood at 42 million.
The last time Anton checked, the number had been 37 million. Over roughly two months, it had grown by 5 million, a steady and expected increase.
Based on this trend, once the first season of Smallville concludes, Superman fan count should surpass 60 million.
Meanwhile, Anton hadn't forgotten about DC upcoming movie, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, which was about to enter production.
With Batman name now gaining massive recognition worldwide, leveraging his fame to boost Superman visibility was bound to yield excellent results.
Anton estimated that the movie alone could push Superman fan count past 80 million.
The remaining 20 million would require further promotional efforts—novels, comics, and animated features—to sustain and grow his fan base.
Anton projected this process would take about six months.
After pondering for a moment, he turned his attention to the fan counts of other heroes.
Aquaman: 5.24 million
Green Lantern: 6.71 million
Constantine: 10.13 million
Shazam: 8.14 million
The relatively low fan counts for Aquaman and Green Lantern didn't surprise Anton.
For these two heroes, neither Anton nor DC Entertainment had immediate plans for film or television adaptations.
Their fan bases relied solely on content like novels, animations, and comics from DC other departments.
Even so, surpassing 5 million fans was already a respectable achievement for intellectual property.
After all, fan counts didn't equate directly to name recognition. The latter was undoubtedly much higher.
If a hero had over 5 million fans, it meant that tens of millions—perhaps even several dozen million—knew of their existence.
Under the influence of popular DC heroes like Batman, Green Arrow, Wonder Woman, and Cyborg, it made sense for more people to start exploring DC broader universe.
Thus, Aquaman and Green Lantern reaching their current fan levels wasn't too surprising.
What did catch Anton off guard, however, was the significantly higher fan counts for Constantine and Shazam.
How had these two magical heroes surpassed Aquaman and Green Lantern, given they'd also been growing organically? Especially Constantine, whose fan count had already surpassed 10 million.
Constantine market value was only 30 million, yet his fan count had already reached over a third of that figure.
How had his numbers risen so quickly?
Perplexed, Anton picked up his phone and called his assistant.
"Betty, get me a detailed report on Constantine and Shazam—recent viewership stats, comments, fan activity, everything. I want the most precise numbers."
Being the boss had its perks.
Anton sat back in his office, sipping coffee and doing absolutely nothing while waiting. Two hours later, the report was delivered to his desk.
After reviewing it, Anton discovered that Constantine and Shazam had indeed started with lower numbers than Aquaman and Green Lantern.
However, following the release of the Wonder Woman movie, their metrics had surged dramatically, overtaking the other two heroes.
The final two pages of the report offered an analysis: the backstory of Wonder Woman resonated deeply with audiences who were intrigued by mythology and the magical world.
This group, after becoming captivated by Wonder Woman, naturally gravitated toward DC magical heroes, Constantine and Shazam, and quickly became devoted fans.
It made a certain kind of sense.
Although Wonder Woman shared the same universe as Batman and the others, her powers fundamentally stemmed from theology, making her distinct from heroes like Batman, whose abilities had logical or scientific explanations.
Even Superman strength could be rationalized through genetic science, but not Wonder Woman.
Similarly, Constantine and Shazam powers defied scientific logic altogether.
Yet, many people were drawn to this magical framework.
With Wonder Woman appearing in the real world, it also opened people minds to the idea that magic might genuinely exist in their world.
Perhaps theology truly was the ultimate destination.
"So, if magical heroes are gaining traction now, maybe it time to introduce one..."
After reading the report, Anton shifted his earlier stance. The concept of focusing on magical heroes started to seem promising.
Though their audience might not rival the core Justice League members, there was a distinct advantage to a smaller fanbase: loyalty.
A well-made movie featuring a magical hero could generate fan engagement and points on par with, or even exceeding, standard DC heroes.
Furthermore, magic also played a significant role in the Marvel Universe.
The Ancient One, the Sorcerer Supreme, safeguarded the multiverse and monitored Earth. A meeting with her was inevitable for Anton.
Anton couldn't help feeling uneasy about such a powerful figure.
It wasn't that he feared the Ancient One discovering his "golden finger" (system cheat), but rather her ability to perceive the past and future.
If she decided the threads of fate had diverged too far from their intended path and tried to forcibly realign the narrative, things could get very messy.
In Avengers: Endgame, the Hulk had nearly been denied the Time Stone—the Eye of Agamotto—by the Ancient One on the grounds that it would disrupt the timeline.
It took significant persuasion to win her agreement. This underscored her respect for the sanctity of destiny.
Anton couldn't quite gauge how she might view him.
By all accounts, his actions had already disrupted multiple threads of fate. He'd even pilfered one of the Hulk crucial plot points, diverting him from the MCU main narrative.
The Ancient One should have confronted him by now to put a stop to his meddling, yet she remained conspicuously absent.
The silence was unsettling.
Creating a magical hero, one ready for an encounter with the Ancient One, seemed like a prudent choice.
"Constantine… Shazam…"
Anton pondered for a long moment before pulling out his phone to call Jim, the company producer.
"Anton, what up?"
Jim was surprised to get a call from Anton.
Not long ago, Anton had told him he planned to take a break and wouldn't be diving into another project anytime soon.
Jim hadn't been surprised.
Given Anton wealth and family background, filmmaking was nothing more than a hobby.
Could movies ever be as lucrative as selling weapons?
Since then, Jim had been quietly working on other projects, rarely stopping by the office except to send the occasional report to prove he wasn't slacking.
Now that Anton was calling, was he about to conduct a spot check?
What Anton said next jolted Jim to attention.
"Jim, I want to make a movie," Anton said plainly.
"The usual deal—I'll handle the script. You just set up the production team."
"No problem! What do you want to shoot?"
Jim couldn't hide his excitement.
He hadn't expected Anton to bounce back with new ideas in less than a month.
Up until now, Jim had assumed Anton might have grown tired of filmmaking. He thought Anton might take a break for at least a year, maybe even five or ten.
Though Anton was already a world-famous director, the earnings from his movies didn't even come close to matching a single order from Wayne Enterprises.
"Constantine," Anton said calmly.