Chapter 118: A Shroud of Mist

Intel began to grumble about the Blue Giant, and White Software clearly sensed the danger. Since the Blue Giant had chosen Microsoft, they naturally needed to prepare early.

No one knew White Software’s plan. Logically, they could have just produced PCs directly, yet they found themselves back at square one. Were they perhaps aiming to complete the entire industry chain?

Faced with this situation, the Blue Giant felt somewhat bewildered—they simply couldn’t fathom the meaning behind these moves.

But that was just how it was. The giant paid no mind to the choices of ants. And what could larger ants possibly do?

Microsoft, meanwhile, was clearly thrust into the eye of the storm. Even within IBM, there were disagreements. Why should a little-known company secure such an order?

Anyone who claims that Americans play by the rules of fair competition can just keep quiet. Such fairness simply does not exist anywhere. No matter the system, the difference lies only in the degree of fairness.

Relatively speaking, bigger cities exhibit higher degrees of fairness. In a remote small town, even a sales clerk’s job might require connections. There’s no need to say more; talk too much and you might get investigated. Though my water meter is outside, there’s still a gas meter, isn’t there?

Ha!

Though a framework agreement was signed, implementation was slow. Even the chip division alone was still a behemoth.

The chip department’s staff didn’t resist much—they had been overlooked for quite some time. Otherwise, the mass departure of design geniuses wouldn’t have occurred.

William White had no time to pay them much mind. His production team was ready, and the filming was about to begin.

Though it was a comedic take on 007, the scale was enormous—not some cheap special effects could fix.

The highest level of special effects, naturally, belonged to Industrial Light & Magic under Lucasfilm. With the success of Star Wars, no one doubted their capabilities.

“Three million? Are you joking, George? Just four scenes—I think a million is the max. Are you trying to make me cover the costs of Raiders of the Lost Ark’s effects?”

“No, no, dear William, my special effects company has always been losing money. Good effects are never cheap.”

“Haha, you’re joking. I’ll pay twenty million if Industrial Light & Magic comes under my control. Maybe I’ll give you a discount later.”

Lucas was indeed a shrewd businessman. Three million could shoot an entire film; he clearly tailored his pricing to the client.

“George, I can only accept up to 1.05 million. If not, I’ll settle for some cheap, low-budget effects.”

“What? Cheap effects? What are those?”

“Haha, they’re simple Photoshop animations—low-cost and rough quality.”

“No, no, at least 2.8 million. The difficulty is just too high.”

“I’m making a comedy. I can’t accept that quote. Sorry, I’ll have to handle the effects myself.”

George Lucas was genuinely afraid this guy might snatch business away. His staff had already told him—this person was highly professional, definitely an insider.

Negotiations followed. After adding a scene, the final price settled at 1.8 million.

William White was speechless at this relentless money-grabber. Now that he was prominent, no quote would be cheap.

“How is his movie?” Spielberg asked. Though scheduling was stretched, he cared deeply about the quality.

“It’s unbelievable—definitely surpassing 007 in scale. Though the runtime is short, as he said, it’s just a comedy.”

“Have you noticed how his costs keep rising? He still calls it a cheap movie, but it’s nearing fifteen million dollars. Add marketing, and it’s a bona fide big-budget production.”

“I have a feeling he’s done with comedies and might be moving on to action films. This guy is really hard to figure out.”

“Alright, he certainly has the right to be capricious. His progress is so rapid that it won’t be long before the old guard can’t handle him.”

“Haha, they’re already troubled enough. Warner Brothers will definitely jump in—they’re going to get beaten badly this time.”

The IT industry was perplexed. How could this storm-stirring figure just switch to making films? And not in Hollywood—he went straight to shoot in Europe.

Flying aboard his ultra-luxurious private jet, he whisked his crew away.

You call this a small production?

Don’t be ridiculous. The Raiders of the Lost Ark reboot starting at the same time cost over thirty million dollars—a genuine blockbuster, no small fry.

Americans don’t do subtlety; if you have money, you have to flaunt it everywhere. If all you do is make money quietly, people call you a miser.

London, as the main exterior location, was chosen for the film’s setting. If you keep having spies running around America, everyone’s supposed to be allies—what’s the point of sending a troop of agents?

Spy movies always have the same cliché: they boast of super agents saving the world. It’s hard to tell if this is praise or satire. Life is dangerously complicated enough; if something happened to these guys, wouldn’t we all be living in chaos?

William White’s Mr. Bean agent subverts this trope completely. From the start, the elite spy unit is wiped out, leaving only one intern who got the position through connections.

High-tech espionage gadgets?

All flashy junk. They work well in testing but fail at critical moments.

The most reliable weapon?

Just a baseball bat.

Don’t even talk about the on-screen effect. Rowan Atkinson was completely thunderstruck—inside and out—by his boss’s shamelessness. He gained a whole new understanding of it.

This script made him fall head over heels. What exactly the director wanted to express was a puzzle.

Did it matter?

Never try to take things too literally. Getting frustrated is normal. It’s best to watch with an eye for entertainment—it’s just a satirical comedy.

Well, the ending was a happy one: the villain was punished, and the hero saved the world, albeit a hilariously goofy hero.

“Cut, ahem, your expression isn’t seductive enough. I mean your eyes, not the cleavage. Pay attention.”

“Camera, have the machine follow her gaze. Also, I’ll say it again—don’t try to find the camera or the director; there’s none here.”

Sharon Stone, who had always been a mere ornament, was completely lost. She had no experience with this, nor had anyone taught her how to convey seduction. A slightly naive young woman, she truly didn’t know how to unleash her allure.

“Alright, don’t look at Rowan Atkinson. Imagine I’m right beside you, and you’re trying to do something.”

William White was truly going all out—almost hand-holding her through the acting.

Everyone, including Rowan Atkinson, envied this girl. How much luck did she have to have the director personally teach her method acting?

Some with less noble thoughts grumbled—how could someone so naïve have such fortune?

But all agreed the director had indeed discovered a gem. This girl’s future was undoubtedly bright.