Hong Kong films: From street thugs to Hong Kong financial tycoons

Chapter 122 The Final Falconry: The Hollywood Godfather's Humble Pilgrimage

On the 27th day of the twelfth lunar month, there are only three days left until the Spring Festival film season on the first day of the Lunar New Year.

The sea breeze in Hong Kong is slightly chilly in winter, and people on the streets are hurrying to buy New Year's goods. But beneath this traditional New Year's atmosphere, there is an undercurrent of feverish enthusiasm that makes one's scalp tingle.

Mong Kok, Golden Dragon Arcade.

"Tick-tock".

"Tick-tock".

In the very center of the hall, on the pure black arcade machine screen of "Primordial Chaos: King of Fighters," a blood-red countdown was relentlessly ticking.

[72 hours and 15 minutes until the gods descend.]

Fat B sat behind the cashier, holding a thermos to warm his hands. His eyes were bloodshot from staying up all night, making him look like a rabbit.

During this period, he felt like he wasn't running an arcade, but rather a cult internment center.

The yellow warning line surrounding the black arcade machine had long been squeezed out of shape.

Hundreds of young people stared intently at the screen, even though there was only a countdown, and even though the ten-second self-check scene featuring Erlang Shen only played once a day. They were rooted to the floor, refusing to budge.

Take half a step.

"Brother B, give me another bowl of instant noodles, and two sausages with it!"

A blond-haired thug with dark circles under his eyes slammed a handful of loose change on the cash register and shouted without turning his head, as if afraid that someone else would snatch his good spot in the blink of an eye.

"You idiot, you've been standing guard here for three days and three nights, don't you need to go home for the New Year?"

Fatty B tore open the instant noodle packaging while cursing irritably.

"Going home my ass! All I can think about right now is that Half-Step Crushing Fist move. If the game starts at midnight on New Year's Day and I'm not the first one to touch that joystick, I'll never sleep a wink for the rest of my life!"

The blond-haired man rubbed his face hard, his eyes filled with madness.

This is the terrifying aspect of Lin Yao's "Eagle-Trapping" tactic: without overwhelming GG or hiring people to hand out flyers on the street, he simply places a monster ahead of its time in front of you, lets you take a look, and then fiercely covers it up.

What you can't have always stirs your heart. After slowly building up to this point, the appetites of tens of millions of players worldwide have been stretched to the point of bursting like a pressure cooker by Lin Yao, just waiting for the countdown to reach zero before finally exploding.

Meanwhile, outside the headquarters of Yiu Shing Technology in Tai Po Industrial Estate, New Territories.

Two unassuming black sedans slowly pulled up to the side of the road, and the doors opened.

Hollywood sci-fi godfather and legendary director Steven stepped out of the car, surrounded by a group of bodyguards and assistants.

This film mogul, who once commanded respect in Los Angeles and was followed by red carpets and countless flashes of light wherever he went, now stood on a secluded curb in Tai Po District, Hong Kong, shivering in the winter sea breeze.

There was no red carpet, no flowers, and not even a senior executive to greet them. At the entrance of Yaosheng Technology, there were only two security guards in black with riot dogs, staring at them expressionlessly.

"Boss, this is an insult!"

Steven's assistant lowered his voice angrily.

"We flew all the way from the United States, and that Lin Yao didn't even show his face. Who does he think he is, God?" Steven didn't speak. He raised his head and looked up at the huge industrial park in front of him.

Directly in front of him was the legendary top-secret factory area, number zero.

Even from hundreds of meters away, Steven could still hear the deafening low-frequency roar of the 100,000 supercomputing nodes operating simultaneously.

Behind the factory, eight huge cooling towers were frantically spewing white steam into the hazy sky.

This is hardly a film company.

This is clearly a steel behemoth lurking in the Far East, swallowing and spewing massive amounts of data and computing power!

"Shut up."

Steven interrupted his assistant's complaints, his voice trembling slightly, a tremor he himself was unaware of.

"Faced with absolute technological barriers, Hollywood's experience is nothing. They have the right to be arrogant because they hold our lifeline in their hands."

Taking a deep breath, Steven straightened his wind-blown coat collar and strode toward the guard post.

"I'm Steven from Paramount Pictures. I've already made an appointment. Please see Mr. Chen Zheng."

He handed his business card to the two security guards in as calm a tone as possible.

Five minutes later, Steven and his group were led into a small meeting room in the office building.

Chen Zheng pushed open the door and walked in, holding a thick document in his hand. He pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses and wore a professional smile, but his demeanor exuded an air of superiority and composure.

"Director Steven, it's an honor to meet you. Our boss is currently in seclusion preparing for the premiere on the first day of the Lunar New Year and is unable to attend. Today, I will represent Yaosheng Technology to sign this contract with you."

Chen Zheng pulled out a chair and sat down, pushing the documents directly to the middle of the table without any intention of exchanging pleasantries.

"To make a long story short, this is the lease agreement for the computing power farm."

Steven's assistant was about to lash out, but Steven held his hand down firmly. Steven picked up the all-English agreement, flipped through only two pages, and his face turned deathly pale.

"Mr. Chen, this price—"

Steven's eyes widened as he pointed at the numbers above in disbelief.

"This doesn't even include the underlying licensing fee for using your physics engine; you're robbing us!"

Chen Zheng took a sip of hot tea without even frowning.

"Director Steven, you've flown all this way, so you must have seen the ten-second trailer we posted on your computer desktop."

Chen Zheng put down his teacup and stared sharply at the other person.

"Is twenty million US dollars expensive? If we don't pay this money, after the first day of the Lunar New Year, the eyes of the world's audience will be spoiled by the gods in our 'Primordial Era.' Do you think they will still go to the cinema to see your limping plastic dinosaur made of clay?"

"And I have to remind you of something."

Chen Zheng held up one finger and pointed to the last clause of the contract.

"This is just the current price. Since you are the first Hollywood company to line up, we're giving you a friendly price."

"Once the New Year is over, when all eight major Hollywood studios come knocking on our door, the price will be different. We'll have to bid, and the highest bidder will win."

Steven was speechless. He felt like a tiger with all its teeth pulled out, facing a hunter with a shotgun.

They weren't talking to him about business; they were just telling him to pay a toll.

"Just one last bit."

Chen Zheng's smile vanished, and his tone became extremely serious.

"Our boss has told us that the movements of Chinese martial arts are a treasure of our ancestors. Hollywood can use them as they please. We will never engage in any kind of action patent monopoly."

"However, as long as you use our engine to calculate the motion, Yaosheng Technology must make a mandatory backup of all the rendered model data and skeletal force logic in the cloud as nourishment for our large database."

"If you agree, sign it. If you don't agree, you can go out now and take a taxi to the airport. Goodbye."

These are unfair terms and conditions, absolutely unfair terms and conditions!

Steven's back teeth were almost ground to dust. It was like he had painstakingly paid money to have flour ground, only to have the miller not only charge an exorbitant processing fee but also forcibly take half of his best flour.

But would he dare not sign?

If he doesn't sign, his "Jurassic Park" blockbuster will become a pile of garbage. Compared to Yaosheng Technology's groundbreaking physical rendering engine, Hollywood's proud special effects industry is not even worthy of carrying its shoes.

"I'll sign."

Steven seemed to age ten years in an instant. With trembling hands, he took out a pen and signed his name crookedly on the last page of the contract.

At this moment, the Hollywood myth has been completely reduced to a mere laborer for Eastern technology.

Chen Zheng put away the contract with satisfaction. The steady progress of the past six months had finally yielded the most fruitful results. Lin Yao's grand strategy was not only to sweep the box office, but also to completely sever the roots of the Western film industry.

Central, Yiu Shing Bank headquarters, underground vault.

This underground fortress, originally used to store tons of gold and foreign exchange, has now been transformed into one of the world's most secure data centers.

Storage room.

The explosion-proof alloy door is a meter thick. Even if you bombard it with armor-piercing bullets, it would take most of the day.

Lin Yao, dressed in comfortable loungewear, stood quietly in the center of the vault with his hands in his pockets.

In front of him was a pure black briefcase, inside which lay a large-capacity, specially made hard drive.

This contains the final master tape of "Primordial Era: The Great Tribulation of Gods," which was painstakingly produced over half a year by 100,000 computers, hundreds of martial arts masters, and countless hours of sleepless work in the Tai Po Industrial Zone.

Wang Pangzi stood behind Lin Yao, not daring to breathe. He looked at the small suitcase and felt that it didn't contain a movie at all, but a nuclear bomb about to detonate the global entertainment industry.

"Boss, all the copies were secretly delivered to screening rooms in major cinemas throughout Hong Kong and even Southeast Asia last night via armed escort vehicles."

Fatty Wang swallowed hard and reported in a low voice.

"Now all the screening rooms are being watched by our own security personnel 24 hours a day. Anyone who dares to play a program even a second early will have their legs broken and be sent to the police station."

"Um."

Lin Yao responded with a faint "yes".

"besides----"

Fatty Wang took out a small notebook and glanced at it.

"Major supermarkets and Toys "R" Us in Europe and North America have also sent messages that all blind box shelves have been unpacked and the goods have been put in the windows."

"However, as per your strict orders, it is still covered with a black cloth, cordoned off, and has a countdown sign hanging on it."

"The president of Walmart even called to complain that if the black cloth wasn't removed soon, the curious kids would smash the windows of their store."

Lin Yao smiled, a smile that carried a sense of composure and arrogance in his control of the situation.

"If he smashed the glass, he should pay for the repairs himself. My rules, Lin Yao's rules, cannot be broken even if the Heavenly King himself comes along."

Lin Yao turned around and patted Fatty Wang on the shoulder.

For the past six months, he hasn't tried to grab any newspaper headlines or engage in verbal battles with those clowns from the Pan-Asian Alliance. Instead, he's been steadily building the foundation to its deepest point.

"Fatty, pass the word down."

Lin Yao walked towards the vault door, his voice echoing in the empty basement.

"On the first day of the Lunar New Year, at midnight, the movie premiered, all arcade machines were powered on and unlocked, and the blind boxes around the world simultaneously had their black cloths torn off."

"For the past six months, we've put the whole world through a lot. Now, it's time to let them experience what a true 'dimensional reduction attack' really means."

As Lin Yao stepped out of the vault, the digital clock on the wall snapped to life.

On the 29th day of the twelfth lunar month, the calm before the storm is finally coming to an end.