PDLP Chapter 33 Whoring for free
Chapter 33 Whoring for free
"Ernst, please let me go. You're a bit irritable today."
Seeing the man being choked, his face flushed red, but his eyes pleading for mercy, Ernst felt no pity whatsoever.
Is he short-tempered? Perhaps.
I finally made some money, and it's all gone just from walking the dog.
Uncle Benshan said it well: What is the saddest thing in a person's life? It's being alive but losing all your money.
In their collaboration with Eric, both parties agreed to jointly invest $2500 million.
One party invested US$1500 million, acquiring a 60% stake.
One side holds a 40% stake with a $1000 million investment.
Eric clearly didn't care much about the shares, and actually let Ernst choose.
This is Blackwater, a super-powerful company that at its peak could secure orders worth hundreds of billions of dollars from Washington every year.
So even though he was short of money and his wallet was practically empty, Ernst still had to grit his teeth and pull out the extra five million.
His original plan was to proceed step by step, first renting a venue and then focusing on police training in the United States.
Such a plan wouldn't cost much; five million US dollars would be more than enough.
But Eric disagreed. He insisted on replicating all the training programs he had in the Navy SEALs, which immediately drove up the equipment costs, essentially burning through dollars like paper.
Police officers are not special forces, and the enemies they face are not well-trained regular troops. In Ernst's view, there is no need to achieve such a perfect result in one step.
Eric persisted, explaining a great deal of knowledge that Ernst couldn't understand, so Ernst could only nod and say nothing.
Eric's initial plan was to invest $100 million to buy a huge piece of land and solve the problem once and for all.
The decision to change the lease to a rental, based on Ernst's persuasion, is already a significant concession.
Therefore, the money was emptied out once again before it even had a chance to be properly held onto.
This made Ernst somewhat irritable, or rather, excited about getting such a large stake in Blackwater.
At this moment, the woman beneath him suddenly showed up, giving him an outlet for his pent-up desires.
Famke Jansen, the Dutch-American actress from Hollywood, was still roughly pulled into the bedroom by Ernst and pinned to the bed, despite having just gotten married last year.
The fact that she came alone speaks volumes. If she hadn't been mentally prepared for this situation, she would have arranged a formal invitation at a different location, and brought her director husband or agent along.
The gift came from afar, and Ernst had no choice but to accept it.
"Ernst, please let me take off my high heels, please."
Ernst glanced at her sideways, showing no mercy whatsoever, and even gave himself a speed boost.
Famke Jansen came to visit this time because of "007".
The finished film of "The Man from Earth" has been released, and the internal screening held by MGM was very well received.
Everyone has high expectations for this low-budget film, predicting a minimum of $30 million in North American box office and no less than $50 million in global box office.
With a production cost of one million dollars and a box office return of fifty times, Ernst's first film after taking over MGM injected new vitality and hope into the company.
Ernst could only chuckle inwardly at the MGM management's flattery. Save that dry vocabulary; you'll be speechless with praise after the movie's release.
The film is well-made; its quality and the actors' performances are far superior to the original movie.
Although ticket prices varied due to different times of the year, Ernst felt that without a global box office of $1.5 million, the film was a complete failure.
Having impressed MGM's management, Ernst finalized the production of the next James Bond film.
The script has already been written. All that's needed is to assemble a behind-the-scenes team and recruit good actors before filming can begin. The filming date is set for the end of the year.
According to the original plan, Famke was not going to get the role of a Bond girl.
The next Bond film, Tomorrow Never Dies, is set in the East, and in order to open up the Eastern market, an Eastern Bond girl must be chosen.
Even if MGM had no intention of changing the script, Ernst would have stopped it.
As for Ernst getting something for free?
Is there something wrong?
So Ernst completely ignored the other party's pleas for mercy and became even more excited.
As for how to explain the marks on the other person's neck and body when they get home, that's not something Ernst should consider, or rather, it's not something he needs to consider at all.
That's the good thing about being a celebrity; you can easily find a work excuse to spend a few days in other cities.
Everyone knows what happened; if you don't say anything or ask, then nothing has happened.
At this moment, Famike felt weak all over, but he still had to clean up the mess himself.
After Ernst got up and walked towards the bathroom, he said in a very lewd manner, "Forget about '007,' this time the Bond girl has to be a Chinese actress."
Famke looked pained, but dared not let out the thousands of grievances and resentments in his heart.
As long as Ernst remains the head of MGM and the ruling class of Hollywood, these actresses have no choice but to endure it.
Go to court? The other party can afford to drag it out.
But your career prospects are about to be ruined.
Even though the other party did not offer any compensation, establishing a positive relationship is the best course of action.
Of course, if you can get some promises, maximizing your benefits would be the best option.
Famke closed his eyes, feeling helpless, but mostly exhausted.
When Ernst came out of the bathroom, the other person was already fast asleep.
He ignored her, put on his bathrobe, and went to the study, his face full of worry.
"1000 million US dollars is too little."
The $25 million advance payment hadn't even reached his account, leaving him with only $10 million, which made his heart pound.
"I'm short of money."
"Weren't you here to enjoy life? How did you end up a billionaire in debt?"
Ernst wondered why he couldn't travel to 1998.
If it were 98, would I still be worrying about this money? One World Cup would be enough.
It doesn't matter if you can't remember the score. Just bet on Brazil when you encounter Brazil in the knockout stage, bet on France when you encounter France, and then go all in on France to beat Brazil 3-0 in the final.
1996? I didn't watch the Olympics.
Ernst picked up the phone on the table, intending to ask Craig when Simon and Schuster's advance payment would arrive. Given Eric's impatient pace, he didn't have much time left.
It would be awkward if people kept chasing you for payment every few days.
As soon as the call connected, a powerful roar of "Orcs will never be slaves!" came through the receiver, somewhat similar to Famike's mournful cry at the crucial moment, piercing Ernst's eardrums.
This wasn't Craig's voice. The other person's environment was chaotic, accompanied by the clatter of keyboards and cheers.
"Hey, my boss, any new instructions?"
"What are you doing?"
"Playing games, I converted one of my rooms into a game room, with four computers and various game consoles. Nemo and the others are all here with me."
Ernst knew Nemo; he was Mary's son, and he looked to be about sixteen or seventeen years old.
In a sense, this is Craig spending time with his son.
However, such cozy moments had nothing to do with Ernst. He told the other party about the situation and urged him to contact the publisher immediately so that the advance payment could be received within a week.
After hanging up the phone, Ernst complained again, "As the boss, I'm racking my brains here, going bald from worrying about money, while you're slacking off like a lucky koi. You're having such an easy time as an agent, even playing games."
Slumped in his chair, staring intently at the ceiling, Ernst suddenly sat up, his eyes gleaming.
He slapped his thigh hard, wincing in pain but unable to hide his excitement. "Yeah, the game."
Isn't this a project that makes money quickly? For me, it's practically a walking money-printing machine.