091 Madness Before Destruction?

Since its establishment, TC Entertainment had done little apart from producing a single movie that had yet to be released. In Hollywood, companies like this were a dime a dozen. TC Entertainment’s only three employees all worked in film production: Helena, the script supervisor; Singer, the lighting technician; and Curry, the cameraman. So, rather than calling TC Entertainment an entertainment company, it would be more accurate to say it was a shell company for film production.

To Li Danio, this was far from sufficient.

Inside the somewhat shabby office of the general manager at TC Entertainment, Li Danio began planning the company’s path forward.

“Boss, do you have a new film project in mind?” Helena was actually quite satisfied with her current job—not only was she idle most days, but her paycheck always arrived on time.

“I do, but movie production can wait.” Li Danio, although possessing a trove of classic films on his portable hard drive, couldn’t simply release them as they were. He needed first to turn the films he had queued into scripts, even detailed shot-by-shot scripts, then find directors and actors to shoot them anew.

“We’ll start with singers and records.”

Compared to the hassle of remaking movies, finding an artist to reinterpret already finished classic songs was far simpler.

“Singers and records?” Helena struggled to accept Li Danio’s whimsical ideas. Although the company had carried the entertainment label even before his acquisition, it had always been a pure film outfit—at most, they’d signed a few freelance models for still photography.

“No problem, boss. Whatever you say, we’ll do. But currently, our company doesn’t have anyone who understands music.”

More manpower—Li Danio dreaded hearing that word. He had so many resources at his disposal, but lacked enough hands to turn them all into wealth.

“Help me contact a headhunting firm. Salary isn’t an issue, but I want the best talents in the industry,” Li Danio said. “I need people who can help me build a complete music company. Also, tell them I need someone experienced in television production.”

“Understood. I’ll get on it right away.” Helena didn’t protest that she was merely a script supervisor and not his assistant. That’s how work was: until she had the ability to make her boss take notice, she wouldn’t bring up rights and obligations with him.

Li Danio scratched his head; his mind was overwhelmed with ideas, leaving him feeling spread thin.

“Your Majesty, there’s a news story about you. Would you like to see it?” Castro, seeing Li Danio had finished assigning tasks, approached with a tablet.

“News? Is there ever a day without news about me?” Li Danio chuckled. He wasn’t bragging—it was true. Since “The Lord of the Rings” became a sensation and he used its copyright income as collateral to purchase the Auckland Islands for the new Tuvalu, he’d been making headlines daily. It was either another sales record for “The Lord of the Rings,” introductions to Tuvalu, or features on the Auckland Islands. There were even netizens speculating about the construction of the new Tuvalu—would its places and cities be named after locations from the novel?

“This one... is different. I think you should take a look,” Castro said awkwardly.

“Oh?” Noticing Castro’s unusual expression, Li Danio took the tablet.

“Madness Before Oblivion? The Lord of the Rings Author Claims He’ll Earn One Hundred Billion Dollars in Five Years”

It was the headline of a famous portal. Li Danio was stunned as soon as he saw it—which designer had such a loose tongue? Besides, though he’d considered the possibility, he’d never stated it so explicitly.

“The name Tarek is surely familiar to everyone now. As the author of what may be the best-selling novel in history, ‘The Lord of the Rings,’ calling Tarek a household name is no exaggeration. The book has brought him a fortune of two billion dollars, making him one of the wealthiest individuals in the world.”

“Beyond wealth, Tarek possesses power—something even more intoxicating than money. As the king of a monarchy, Tarek wields absolute authority over Tuvalu. In civilized society, such power is rare; even the President of the United States must worry about whether his orders will be challenged by lawmakers and the public, but Tarek need not fear opposition from his people.”

“Moreover, Tarek’s character proved his greatness when he used his ‘The Lord of the Rings’ copyright revenues to secure a loan and purchase the Auckland Islands, ensuring the people of Tuvalu would never again worry about their country being swallowed by the sea.”

“What does it mean when an absolute monarch shares his personal wealth with his subjects? It’s worth noting that Tarek earned his place at one of the world’s most prestigious universities—Harvard—and achieved excellent grades in his freshman year. Though he has taken a leave of absence to manage his country, we can surely believe Harvard is proud of him.”

“Most crucially, Tarek is only twenty-two years old. If you search for his photos, you’ll find he’s quite handsome, with a fine physique. If there were a poll for the man most women worldwide would want to marry in 2012, Tarek would undoubtedly rank in the top ten.”

Li Danio frowned at the flattery, knowing well the media’s tricks: they build you up only to tear you down later.

“Perhaps Tarek is too perfect, so even God can’t stand it. According to a designer from a renowned firm, Tarek terrified all the designers present at a meeting about the new Tuvalu’s design. Because every designer thought Tarek had gone mad.”

“Reportedly, at the meeting, Tarek declared that the construction budget for the new Tuvalu would reach the unimaginable figure of one hundred billion dollars, to be completed within five years. According to available data, Tuvalu’s GDP is only about ten million dollars, and annual fiscal expenditures already exceed revenue. So where will this hundred billion come from—in just five years? Perhaps, if Tarek writes fifty books as successful as ‘The Lord of the Rings’ in five years, he could raise the money for the new Tuvalu.”

The report listed every requirement Li Danio had mentioned at the meeting, then critiqued each one.

“For the airport alone, Tarek’s budget is two billion dollars—an airport of this scale could handle at least eighty thousand passengers daily, while Tuvalu’s population is only eleven thousand. Even if its tourism industry booms as Tarek claims, surpassing the Maldives, such a massive airport would be useless. After all, the Maldives only receives about a million tourists annually...”

The article concluded: “Maybe ‘The Lord of the Rings’ was too profitable, inflating Tarek’s confidence to the point of madness. And after this madness, the new Tuvalu will inevitably fall into crisis again. Let us pray for the people of Tuvalu—that their king awakens from his daydream soon.”

“Should I contact the platform and ask them to take down this article?” Castro asked, seeing Li Danio set the tablet aside.

“Take it down? Why bother? I’d prefer they leave it pinned to the top, so I can gradually slap them in the face.”

Far from being upset by the report, Li Danio was secretly pleased with its early praise. As for the criticism, he truly didn’t care. As long as he lived, the new Tuvalu would become what he envisioned—perhaps even the most powerful country in the world, bar none.

If he couldn’t handle a bit of written criticism, how could he withstand the world’s onslaught when, someday, he used technology from the cinematic universe to outclass every other nation?

If he died in the movie world, then it mattered even less—dead men don’t care what others say.

Still, it wasn’t in Li Danio’s nature to take criticism lying down.

He took out his phone, logged into his EyeBook account, and prepared to respond to the article.