sovbooks Chapter 121 True Allies
Chapter 121 True Allies
Chapter 121 True Allies
The morning sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains at the Sheraton Hotel, illuminating the dimly lit bedroom.
The phone on the bedside table suddenly rang, breaking the silence in the room.
Qin Han reached under his pillow, groped around for a while before finally grabbing the receiver, his voice still a little groggy: "Who is this?"
"Qin! If you're still sleeping, then I must say you've missed the best news of the day."
Ted Ashley's voice came through the receiver, radiating an undisguised pleasure.
Qin Han rolled over and sat up, leaning against the headboard. While looking at the intelligence report that appeared in front of him, he replied, "Ted, if you call me at this hour, either Warner's stock price has hit the daily limit down, or we're about to make a fortune."
Independent director Martin Scorsese is casting a child actress for his film *Alice No Longer Lives Here*.
Martin Scorsese?
Recalling the information in his mind, he is now seen by film critics as a newly emerged "genius thunderbolt"; but in the eyes of major Hollywood studios, he is still a "poor guy who doesn't make money and is in danger".
This situation was not completely reversed until he made "Taxi Driver," a film that, like "Rocky," reflected the plight of the American underclass.
Qin Han took out a pen and paper and wrote down the information in his notebook, while listening to Ashley's excited report on Rocky's progress.
"Obviously the latter, my friend," Warner's president laughed. "Just ten minutes ago, the board officially approved the Rocky project proposal."
"Fred is already super into it, starting preparations for the film. He told Sly that he wanted to start costume fittings next week."
"This is indeed good news." Qin Han's eyes gradually cleared. "Tell Fred that Stallone can arrive at any time."
"Very well." Ashley paused, his tone becoming somewhat strange. "However, Qin, besides this, I have a small personal request."
"Um?"
"That game console you sent—the one called Pog." He seemed a little embarrassed to say it: "God, that thing is office poison."
"Ever since it was placed in the rest area, my secretary, screenwriters, and even those directors who are usually arrogant, have been gathering around that wooden box whenever they have a spare moment."
"Now look what's happened. What should have been a lunch break for coffee and script discussions has turned into an 'electronic billiards tournament.' Just now, I even saw two executive vice presidents arguing heatedly in the hallway over the right to challenge for the next round."
Qin Han couldn't help but laugh out loud; he was all too familiar with this scene.
In this age of entertainment scarcity, the allure of video games is simply too great for humankind.
"So, Ted, you want me to move it?"
"Move away? No, no, no!" Ashley quickly denied. "If we move away, those guys will probably go on strike."
"I mean—could you get a few more? To divert the crowd, at least so my executives don't have to line up like schoolchildren for a glowing white dot."
"No problem, I'll have someone deliver it this afternoon," Qin Han readily agreed.
After hanging up the phone and quickly washing up, Qin Han knocked on Sylvester Stallone's door.
The door opened, and Stallone, holding dumbbells, was doing bicep curls while reciting his lines from the script.
"Slay, stop practicing. Pack your things, we're going to the San Fernando Valley to see that bearded boss again."
Even on weekday mornings, the Atari store in Sherman Oaks is as bustling as a market.
The monotonous "beep, beep, pop" electronic sound effects, mixed with the crisp sound of coins falling into the coin slot, constitute the most avant-garde symphony of this era.
Nolan Bushnell stood behind the counter, a thick wad of banknotes in his hand, his large beard trembling with a smile.
Seeing Qin Han push the door open and come in, he immediately came out from behind the counter and opened his arms.
"Mr. Qin! I knew you'd come back!" His enthusiasm was even greater than last time: "How was it? How were those machines? Weren't they like I said, practically monsters that devoured coins?"
"The effect is too good." Qin Han shook hands with him: "The president of Warner Bros. called to complain that his employees are almost unwilling to work. I need three more machines."
"Hahaha! That's the charm of Atari!" Nolan laughed triumphantly. "No problem, there are just a few of the last ones left in the warehouse. If we had arrived half a day later, they would probably have been snatched up by the casinos in Las Vegas."
Qin Han had Stallone follow the store clerk to move goods, while he himself skillfully navigated the noisy front hall and headed towards the repair area at the back.
The barefoot young figure was still huddled in the corner.
Steve Jobs is holding a screwdriver and taking something apart.
Hearing footsteps, he didn't turn around, but coldly said, "If you're here to urge Nolan to speed up the repairs of those crappy Pog machines, go find Nolan, don't bother me."
"I'm here to hear the results." Qin Han pulled over a high stool and sat down behind him: "Regarding my 'machine'..." Jobs' hands stopped moving.
He turned around, saw who it was, and pulled out a piece of white paper covered with all sorts of strange symbols from the table next to him.
"Where did you get that thing?" Jobs asked, his tone filled with deep disgust. "It's the worst kind of electronic waste. No, calling it waste is an insult to the word waste."
He pointed to the complex circuit diagram drawn on the white paper: "I disassembled its core oscillator. The person who designed this circuit is practically a murderer."
Qin Han's heart skipped a beat: "Tell me in detail."
"This machine is advertised as 'muscle electrical impulse stimulation,' used to assist in fitness, right?" Jobs sneered, gesturing with his chin towards the disassembled parts beside him. "Its principle is to stimulate nerve endings with electrical current, forcing muscles to contract. However, its current control chip is extremely cheap, and the voltage regulator diode is also substandard."
"What does this mean?" Jobs held up two fingers and gestured in the air. "It means its output power is completely uncontrollable. Under normal voltage, it might just cause a tingling sensation, but once the mains voltage fluctuates, or the machine overheats—"
"It can instantly release high-frequency pulses that exceed the limits of human endurance."
"If this pulse were applied to the limbs, it would at most cause cramps or muscle atrophy. But if this thing is applied to the chest or back—" Jobs pointed to his heart: "Simply put, this isn't some kind of exercise equipment; it's a miniature electric chair."
He made an explosion gesture: "Ventricular fibrillation, cardiac arrest. Even God couldn't save him."
Looking at the draft paper and listening to the Apple godfather analyze its fatal principles, Qin Han still felt a lingering fear.
"Does this report prove its lethality?" he asked, pointing to the draft paper.
"Any engineer who knows a little about circuit principles can understand this," Jobs said dismissively, curling his lip.
"Very good." Qin Han solemnly folded the draft paper and put it into his pocket.
Sending this document to Bill would provide Sato with another solid piece of evidence against him.
Qin Han took out the US dollars he had promised earlier from his pocket: "This is your payment, and the money for your plane ticket to India."
"You kept your word." Jobs stuffed the envelope into his jeans pocket. "With this money, I can quit this damn job tomorrow and go find my master."
"I hope you find the answers you seek by the Ganges." Qin Han stood up, looking at this future giant: "When you return from India, if you have any ideas that you want to use to change the world, remember to give me a call."
"Maybe." Jobs picked up the screwdriver again and buried himself in the circuit board on the table. "If you hadn't gone bankrupt by then."
Qin Han smiled, ignoring his arrogance, and turned to leave the repair area.
an88.0
Half an hour later, Burbank, Warner Bros. Studios.
Stallone directed several movers to carry three brand-new Pog game consoles into the administration hall.
As soon as they landed, several passing men in suits had their eyes light up. If it weren't for Qin Han's presence, they probably would have rushed over to grab a spot.
"The machines are now open for business." Qin Han patted the nameplate hanging on the machine, the bright "Han's Film Industry" sign proving the origin of these machines.
He then went straight to the top floor and pushed open the door to Ted Ashley's office.
"Looks like my employees are saved." Ashley smiled as he saw him enter the room.
"I added three more machines to Warner, that's all, otherwise the lobby on the first floor will turn into a game room."
Qin Han smiled and walked to his desk, took out a check from his pocket, and gently placed it on the desk.
Ashley glanced down at the money: $20,000.
"What is this?" he asked, feigning ignorance.
"Two months ago, when I was penniless, you lent me these 20,000 yuan. It was this money that allowed Han's Film Studio to get on the right track. Now, it's being returned to its rightful owner."
Ashley didn't rush to put the check away. Instead, he gently stroked the paper with his fingers, looking at the young man in front of him.
In just two months, the screenwriter who used to have to rely on bets and borrowing money to barely make ends meet has now become the rightful head of Han's Film Company, holding multiple production licenses.
This rate of growth is terrifying, even in Hollywood, a place rife with miracles.
"Qin, do you know? In Hollywood, there are many people who borrow money, but those who can repay it are rarer than pandas."
Ashley put away the check, and his smile became much more genuine.
"That $20,000 is probably the most profitable investment I've ever made in my life," he exclaimed. "It not only brought me 'Enter the Dragon' and 'Rocky,' but more importantly, it brought me a trustworthy friend."
"That's what I wanted to say too, Ted," Qin Han replied with a smile.
Paying back the money means that he and Ashley are now truly equal allies.
"Now that we're friends, I think you should show up on certain occasions."
Ashley opened the drawer, took out a gold-embossed invitation, and handed it over.