Best for Business (3)

Sion's claim to Harvey that he was "bored" was, of course, a lie. Ever since the Sundance Film Festival wrapped up, he had been absolutely inundated with business proposals. Commercial shoots, sponsorship offers, interview requests, casting calls for new films—you name it.

Even places he had previously worked with were reaching out again. Charlie Kang, the head of CK Agency, had this to say about the sudden influx:

Hearing that, Sion thought to himself, I'll have to find a way to apologize to them properly later... The past Sion and the present Sion were still locked in a fierce, ongoing battle.

In any case, to jump straight to the point, Sion turned down every single offer. He felt it was far too premature to accept ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠anything before the film was officially released to the general public.

These offers aren't about immediate returns anyway. They're just trying to lock me down before the movie hits theaters.

Currently, the media had published several articles praising Sion's successful career pivot, and the public's curiosity was piqued, keeping him a hot topic of conversation day after day. To give an example of how that conversation looked back then:

In the early 1990s, if the general public wanted to voice their opinions to the world, their primary outlets were magazines and talk radio. Decades into the future, people would post their thoughts online in real-time and engage in instant, heated debates. But in this era, if you wanted to do that, you had to gather with like-minded hobbyists in person or send letters to media outlets, patiently waiting and hoping your submission would be selected.

From a future perspective, it was tedious and inefficient, but in this era, it was completely natural.

Since the water takes longer to boil, I can afford to let it simmer a bit longer.

Until the distribution contract was finalized and he had to head to New York, Sion spent his days lounging around his apartment and the agency office, casually looking up the public's reactions. For instance, a Q&A section in a prominent film magazine looked like this:

After reviewing these records, Sion came to a firm conclusion.

As I thought, it's best to hold off on any major public appearances until the movie is actually in theaters.

Even if he did absolutely nothing, people were throwing logs onto the fire themselves. In show business, one of the most crucial elements is maintaining a constant stream of curiosity. Right now, that curiosity was sustaining itself naturally.

But I can't just sit back and do nothing. I need to coordinate with Miramax to get the movie into theaters as quickly as possible. Terminator 2 is coming out in early July, so it would be ideal if we could release before June.

With that goal in mind, Sion arrived in Manhattan, New York. A city far more glamorous and sophisticated than Chicago. At the Miramax offices there, he met Harvey Weinstein, who held a view very similar to Sion's, albeit with a much more transactional, tool-like perspective on human beings.

"I'm planning for a late April release," Harvey said.

Hearing this, the director, Daniel Summit, widened his eyes in shock. "A-April? How is that even possible?"

"It's not a matter of whether it's possible or not. We have to make it happen. There's money on the line."

"I... I see."

The shoulders of the rookie director, who was still a complete novice to anything outside of filmmaking, slumped. Sion, who was far more savvy about the business side of things, spoke up.

"I agree with the timeline, but have you finalized the discussions with Philip Studios?"

"...Bwahahaha!"

Harvey burst into sudden laughter. "Haha, my apologies. It's just that it's my first ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠time seeing an actor pay attention to such minute details."

"We have to. There's money on the line."

"..."

"Am I wrong?"

Sion gave a light wink, throwing Harvey's own words right back at him. At that, one of Harvey's eyelids twitched ever so slightly. It was so subtle that anyone other than Sion, who had spent decades observing human expressions as an actor, would have missed it.

What's this? He was acting like some grand, magnanimous tycoon at the party.

He was different from when they met at the party. Sion pondered the reason for a moment and came up with two conclusions. Either Harvey was thinking, We signed the contract, so this is my movie now, just as he had in Sion's past life, or his true colors were simply showing more easily because they were in his own Miramax office. It was highly likely a mix of both.

This guy might be easier to handle than I thought. He's exactly as history described him.

Gauging Harvey's reaction, Sion felt even more at ease.

"...Hm, excellent, Mr. Lee. I completely agree. We've made a great film, so we must ensure as many people see it as possible."

Harvey quickly adjusted his demeanor, smoothing things over with a pleasant tone. "How many times have you two been to New York?"

"Oh... this is my first time," Daniel stammered.

"I've been here a few times for location shoots," Sion replied.

"I see. I think we'll need a few more days to firmly establish the direction of the edit... but as I mentioned, we're on a tight schedule. We'll have to cut it together rather quickly."

"Well, if we're aiming for late April, that makes sense," Sion agreed.

"For now, I'll book a hotel for both of you. Please look around, enjoy the city, and treat it like a relaxing vacation. I'll contact you separately, Director, when we begin editing."

Harvey smoothly steered the conversation, using a rhetorical tactic to exclude Sion from the editing room. It seemed even he had realized Sion was not someone he could easily manipulate.

He's a seasoned veteran, alright. Well, not that it'll do him any good.

Ultimately, to hold the upper hand in the film industry, one had to become "irreplaceable." In this business, which operated as a massive, collaborative art form with an unparalleled market size, being irreplaceable was a form of power just as significant as a corporation's capital. In that sense, under the current circumstances, Sion held a much stronger hand.

The commercial value of the indie film Swing in Chicago was practically built entirely on his shoulders as an actor, and he also held a massive percentage of the running guarantee.

If things go sour between us, this whole project is going to get very difficult for him in more ways than one.

No matter how rapidly Miramax was rising in the industry right now, they had not yet reached the overwhelming, dominant position they would occupy in the near future. Furthermore, there was a long line of other distributors eager to sign Swing in Chicago. While it was undeniable that Miramax possessed excellent marketing and distribution capabilities for indie films, they were not as "irreplaceable" as Sion Lee.

Besides, with my current wealth, I can easily afford the penalty fee for breaking an indie film contract.

And canceling a contract for a film generating this much buzz was the last thing Harvey would want. Sion smiled warmly and nodded.

"Sightseeing sounds great. Elena might be performing in her play, so maybe I'll head down to Broadway."

At that relaxed response, Harvey pointed out, "Ah, that play actually wrapped up a few days ago. But Miss Asimov might still be staying in the city. Why don't you give her a call?"

"Ah. I'll be sure to do that if I find the time."

Of course, he had absolutely no intention of finding the time.

It was a nearby four-star hotel booked on Miramax's corporate card.

Well, at least he got me a decent place.

Sion unpacked his bags and sat on the edge of the bed. Feeling the fatigue of the flight, he kicked off his shoes and lay down.

Although Sion had been acting like a brat to build his "image" as an actor after his regression, he had established a few strict rules for himself while doing so.

First: Do not do anything genuinely evil. No joining the Freemasons, no doing drugs.

Second: Maintain a slightly temperamental image when dealing with the public, but be kind to individuals.

Third: If someone proves trustworthy, treat them generously. Conversely, if they hinder his career or openly pick a fight, crush them thoroughly.

None of which I could do in my past life.

Not that he had joined the Freemasons or done drugs in his past life, of course. In any case, now was the perfect time to reflect on those rules—specifically, the third one.

Along with the memories of his past life, several red flags warned him that Harvey Weinstein was the very first opponent he had to fight since his regression to protect his career. However, so far, those flags were mere fragments, and Harvey hadn't done anything overtly hostile yet.

Let's just wait and see for now... He doesn't ruin himself until decades later, so maybe he'll play nice for now.

However, Sion's optimistic outlook shattered the moment he saw Daniel Summit return from the Miramax editing room two days later.

"Ugh... sob..."

Daniel was face-down on the bed, sobbing like a high school girl who had just been dumped by her crush. Sion, who had just returned from sightseeing with a Statue of Liberty foam hat ($20) and a plastic torch ($40), gasped in shock and rushed over.

"Are you okay?! No, what happened?! Which bastard did this to my director?!"

"S-Sion... it's nothing..."

"If you keep whimpering like a little girl and saying it's nothing, you're going to look like a self-pitying middle schooler playing hard to get. Just spit it out."

"..."

Sion placed the $20 foam Statue of Liberty hat onto Daniel's head as the director looked up with a shell-shocked face.

"So, what exactly happened in that editing room?"

"They want to cut out a massive chunk of the narrative scenes and just fill the screen with your face..."

"Who? Harvey Weinstein?"

Daniel nodded miserably.

"Hmm, sounds like a solid choice to me."

"...?!"

"Just kidding, just kidding. What would they even do with my bloated face? What are they trying to cut instead?"

"So many things..."

"Which one stands out the most?"

"...The chase scene."

"What? We poured our blood, sweat, and tears into that scene! We froze our asses off in the dead of a Chicago winter night to shoot that, and they want to throw it away? There's a limit to how ignorant you can be about film!"

"I... I can see their point, though..." Daniel sniffled. "As long as we convey the fact that he 'escaped,' the sequence still connects. It's true that I lacked the skill to make the scene feel more suspenseful..."

"Are you serious? Do you actually believe that?"

"*Sob*..."

"If you want to save it, just say the word. I'll save it for you."

"I want to save it...!"

"Okay."

"N-No, wait. Even if it's you, Sion..."

"You think there's nothing we can do if they take a hardline stance? Sure. Film is an art, but it's also an industry involving countless people. If I throw a fit and they refuse to budge, normally, that's the end of it. ...But you see,"

Sion paused, a wicked smile slowly spreading across his face.

"There is no absolute right answer in this business. Pushing your vision through ultimately comes down to justification and a battle of momentum."

Sion held all the cards in this project. Not only did he have legitimate contractual rights, but he was also an actor who had established an irreplaceable, intangible presence. On top of that...

Ah, it's been a while since I've revved up the engine. Isn't this the perfect time to dust off my old reputation?

It was time to unleash the hot-blooded teenage energy that still occasionally surged within him.

Inside the Miramax offices, a living hell was unfolding. There were two main reasons: first, an absurdly tight schedule; second, a complete lack of leadership that drained everyone's desire to even meet that schedule.

To intimidate the rookie director Daniel Summit, who had walked in like an innocent lamb, Harvey Weinstein was utilizing his kingdom to the fullest today.

"Good morn—"

The moment Daniel stepped into the office, he was greeted by the sight of a crystal ashtray flying through the air.

Crash!

With a sharp, shattering sound, the ashtray smashed into pieces. The employee standing nearby trembled in sheer terror as Harvey's roaring voice immediately followed.

"How the hell are we supposed to meet the deadline like this?! Bring me something decent next time!"

This was already the umpteenth revision of the pamphlet design.

"Surprise me for once! Is a killer design that hard?! What the hell are you doing?! Wake the fuck up, all of you!"

This morning "discipline" instilled a deep sense of helplessness and fear in the Miramax staff. At the same time, it was a calculated performance to ensure Daniel would fall in line.

At the tail end of the 20th century, the era of true savagery had passed, but the law of raw power still exerted a heavy presence.

Once the storm subsided, Harvey stood up, his expression shifting completely. Sweating profusely after his outburst, he walked over to Daniel and offered a bright, refreshing smile. It was a classic move, highly reminiscent of a New York mob boss establishing dominance over a guest.

"My, my. I apologize for letting you see such an unsightly scene first thing in the morning."

He would fly into a rage at his team over the slightest mistake, using that atmosphere to subtly crush the director's pride and spirit in the editing room, forcing the edit in the direction he wanted. Then, if the film turned out well, he would spin the narrative to everyone, both internally and externally, claiming, I did it all myself. It was the textbook method of a master gaslighter.

"H-Hello."

"Let's have another great editing session today."

Harvey smiled with satisfaction at getting the exact reaction he wanted—only for his face to freeze a split second later.

"Whoa... I haven't seen a show like that in ages. It used to be pretty common when I was a kid, though."

It was Sion, who had slithered into the office right behind Daniel like a snake. He had been cleverly hiding just outside the door, completely undetected.

Passing right by Harvey, whose face had gone slightly pale like a villain caught red-handed, Sion set down what he was carrying on a nearby table. He then glanced at the employee who had almost been struck by the crystal ashtray.

"I brought some donuts in case anyone wanted a snack, but I wonder if you guys even have time to eat them?"

"...M-Mr. Lee? What brings you here?"

"I just wanted to see how the editing was going. I didn't realize you were editing your staff, too. Fascinating. I rarely see people working like this in Hollywood these days."

"Ah, well, that's obviously to get the movie out as quickly as possible..."

"Can I take a look too?"

"...Excuse me?"

"The edit. I want to see what direction it's heading in."

"It's not finished yet..."

"That doesn't mean I can't look at it. And I think I've more than earned the right to see it, don't you?"

Sion smiled gently, completely unfazed by the icy atmosphere of the room. Before him, Harvey's face contorted in a very subtle grimace—though it was glaringly obvious to Sion.

A total of four people, including the editor, stepped into the editing room. The remaining employees, looking like survivors of a sudden hurricane, strained their ears to catch what was happening inside. It didn't take long before shouting echoed through the walls.

"Are you fucking kidding me?! Why is my face so damn huge in this frame?!"

"W-Well... we thought your face was the most important element, Mr. Lee..."

"If my face was the most important thing, we wouldn't have shot it like this in the first place! I gained a ton of weight, grew a massive beard, and didn't wash for days! What kind of 'face' are you trying to show off here?! If you blast my face across the screen like this, the sponsors are going to scream breach of contract! Are you going to pay the penalty fees for me?!"

"No, but this is all for the good of the film... If the movie turns out well, they won't go that far..."

"If you want what's best for the film, the original scene is a hundred times better! Hey! Look at this! Are you blind?! Are your eyes buried in fat?! Look at this scene of me running down the alley! Is it dynamic or not?! Tell me the truth! Huh?!"

Sion wasn't a gaslighter. He was just a mad dog.

"M-Mr. Lee? Please don't kick the chair..."

"Oops~ My bad. Got a bit carried away. You've probably heard about my temper, right? I tried to keep it under wraps, but it's not easy. I'm just incredibly passionate about film. Especially this one. You get it, right? It's all for the good of the movie~ So please, bear with me~."

"Y-Yes..."

"Is there anywhere else you changed? Let's check it quickly. We need to sell our movie fast, after all~"

Hearing that sly voice throw Harvey's exact words back at him, the staff outside thought:

They said he was a brat, but he's an absolute psycho!

But he really does seem passionate about his movie.

Is it because he's handsome? Even his angry voice sounds kind of... hot.

Pfft, Harvey finally met his match today.

Sion's basic mirroring of Harvey's behavior gave them a profound sense of satisfaction.