All of Hollywood went crazy.
“The Lawrence Oracle,” “The Prophet of Beverly Hills,” “The Box Office Analyst The Wall Street Journal Wants to Hire”—all sorts of exaggerated and bizarre nicknames replaced “The Million-Dollar Joke” overnight, firmly sticking to John Lawrence.
His office threshold was practically worn down, and he was swamped with lunch invitations and consultation calls like snowflakes.
Those who had once mocked him at parties were now all trying to pry out the next market hot spot from him.
For the first time, John felt the “taste of power,” and this taste did not come from the shares he held, but from something more ethereal yet more powerful—information asymmetry.
He locked himself in his study, with two things in front of him.
One was the “Market Forward-Looking Analysis Report” that he had read so many times its edges were frayed.
The other was the even thicker stack of the script for "pirates of the caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl."
If the previous report was a proven miracle, what did this script represent?
A bigger miracle, one capable of overturning the entire industry?
The study door was gently pushed open, and Allen walked in with a cup of hot milk.
“Dad, drink some milk. You’ve been sitting here for two hours.”
“Allen… sit down. We need to talk.”
Allen sat opposite him, his expression calm, as if he had long anticipated this moment.
“How did you do it?” John’s voice was a little hoarse, “That prediction… it was too accurate, frighteningly accurate. You have to tell me the truth.”
Allen was silent for a moment. He knew this question would come sooner or later. Excuses like “genius” or “intuition” would no longer pass muster.
“Dad, if I told you that I can see some… ‘connections’ that others can’t, would you believe me?” Allen chose a half-truth, “Just like a mathematician can see formulas in a pile of disordered numbers, I can see the inherent logic and future trends in seemingly unrelated things like movies, markets, and audience emotions.”
Instead, he packaged his ability as a nearly supernatural “pattern recognition” skill.
“It’s a talent. I can’t explain how it works, but I know it’s real.”
“Just as I could see the failure of mars odyssey, I can also see… the success of pirates of the caribbean.”
“I understand.” John let out a long breath and picked up the script.
“The Disney board meeting is the day after tomorrow.”
“This time, I won’t let it lie in a drawer anymore.”
…In the Disney headquarters boardroom, the summer box office got off to a bad start, with several highly anticipated films failing to meet expectations, while the biggest competitor, Paramount, saw its stock plummet and became the industry’s laughingstock due to the epic collapse of mars odyssey.
“…Paramount’s mistake this time serves as a warning to us,” COO Tom Staggs concluded, “It proves that the formula of big productions and big stars is failing. The market is becoming increasingly unpredictable.”
“Speaking of predictions…” a voice slowly chimed in, it was Senior Vice President Lawrence “Larry” Tillman. He was a white-haired, arrogant old-school executive who had always disliked “outsiders” like John who entered the board through capital.
Larry glanced at John and said with a fake smile, “Don’t we have an ‘Oracle’ sitting right here? John, why don’t you enlighten us? Tell us which movie will flop next, so we can avoid it in advance.”
A suppressed chuckle rippled through the boardroom. While John becoming the “Lawrence Oracle” surprised them, it also made these self-proclaimed industry elites feel a hint of offended jealousy.
“I cannot predict the next film to flop,” John said calmly, “But I can tell you what the next film to make history should look like.”
He ignored their astonished gazes and took the thick stack of A4 paper from his briefcase, gently placing it on the table.
“What is this?” Chairman Michael Eisner frowned.
“A script.” John’s gaze swept across the room, “A script about pirates.”
“Pirates?”
As soon as the word was uttered, the boardroom immediately erupted in undisguised jeers and discussions.
“John, are you kidding? A pirate movie? We’re having a meeting, not celebrating Halloween.”
“My God, wasn’t the disaster of Cutthroat Island enough? That genre has been cursed for twenty years!”
Larry Tillman shook his head exaggeratedly and said to Eisner, “Michael, I told you John has been under too much stress lately. He got lucky and guessed a box office hit once, and now he’s talking nonsense. A pirate movie? That’s just a child’s fantasy.”
“Exactly!”
John’s voice suddenly rose, silencing the entire boardroom instantly.
“Larry, you’re right! It really is a child’s fantasy!”
“And it was that child who, when I told him how highly anticipated mars odyssey was, adamantly told me it would fail miserably! It was also that child who let me foresee the true direction of the market in advance! He saved me from huge losses and, by the way, won a million dollars from you self-righteous ‘smart people’!”
John pulled out the copy of the million-dollar wager check from his pocket and slammed it onto the table.
“Now, do you still think this is just a ‘fantasy’?!”
The room fell silent.
Everyone was stunned by John Lawrence’s sudden outburst. They stared dumbfounded at the check copy and then at John’s face, red from excitement.
A child?
That “god-tier prediction” that shocked Hollywood, came from a child?
And the script written by that child was this “pirate story” that they had sneered at?
The amount of information was overwhelming, absurd like a surreal play, but John’s undeniable attitude and the dazzling check on the table made it all seem incredibly real.
Larry Tillman’s face turned liver-colored. He opened his mouth but couldn’t utter a single word. He felt like a Joker stripped naked in public; his earlier arrogance and sarcasm now felt like slaps to his own face.
Chairman Michael Eisner’s eyes flickered. He looked at the script, then at John, his expression slowly changing from shock to an intense interest.
He didn’t immediately comment, but instead tapped the table and said in a deep voice, “The meeting is adjourned for ten minutes.”
John sat down, his chest heaving. He knew he had just made a huge gamble, betting all his credibility and his son’s future.
The boardroom door opened and closed. The directors gathered outside in twos and threes, whispering to each other, their expressions a mix of emotions.
And John Lawrence’s astonishing remarks at the board meeting, like a depth charge dropped into water, were just beginning their chain reaction.
No one noticed that in the corner of the boardroom, a young board assistant secretly sent a message on his phone while John was speaking.
The recipient of the message was a close friend of his at Warner Bros. Pictures.
The content of the message was simple:
“Big news. John Lawrence’s ‘oracle’ is his son. A child. And that child wrote a script that John treasures; it’s a pirate theme. These idiots at Disney are still laughing.”
Within half an hour, this message reached the highest echelons of major studios through Hollywood’s invisible intelligence network.
Warner Bros. Headquarters.
Studio Chairman Alan Horn looked at the message on his phone, his brows tightly furrowed.
“John Lawrence’s son?” he murmured, “A child who can accurately predict the market? And a script he wrote?”
A shrewd hunter immediately caught the scent of prey. The more absurd this story sounded, the more astonishing the value it might hide. While those bureaucrats at Disney were still hesitating and scoffing, this was the perfect opportunity!
“Get me John Lawrence on the phone,” he immediately ordered his secretary, “No, wait, I’ll call him myself. Tell him I’d like to invite him to lunch tomorrow to discuss ‘the future.’”
At the same time, Universal Pictures.
The same message was also on Chairman Ron Meyer’s desk.
“Interesting.” Meyer’s lips curved into a smile, “A deified father with a mysterious son behind him. This story itself could be made into a movie. That script, no matter what it’s about, is now a hot commodity.”
He picked up the phone: “Find out the details of John Lawrence’s collaboration with Disney. Also, prepare a gift for me to send to the Lawrence residence. A… gift for a child. Oh, and also arrange for me to meet John. Tell him Mr. Spielberg is very interested in his son’s ‘talent.’”
In an instant, the situation changed dramatically.
The script that John Lawrence cherished, and that Disney executives laughed at, suddenly became hot, before any professional had even read a single word of it, due to the mysterious and legendary aura behind it.
In the Disney boardroom, the break ended, and the directors slowly returned to their seats, their expressions becoming subtle.
Just as Chairman Eisner was about to say something, his personal assistant rushed in and whispered a few words in his ear.
Eisner’s face instantly changed.
He looked up at John Lawrence, his eyes filled with regret and a hint of imperceptible panic.
And John’s phone vibrated at that moment.
He glanced at the caller ID.
It was Alan Horn, Chairman of Warner Bros. Pictures.
Immediately after, a second text message came in.
From the secretary of Ron Meyer, Chairman of Universal Pictures.
John slowly raised his head, meeting the gaze of everyone in the boardroom. He didn’t answer the phone or look at the text message; he simply placed his phone on the table, screen up, casually.
The flashing caller ID, like a silent lightning bolt, illuminated the instantly pale faces of every Disney executive.
They finally realized they might have made a mistake.
What they were mocking and hesitating over, their competitors were already frantically trying to snatch.
John’s face revealed a faint, all-controlling smile. He looked at the stack of scripts on the table, titled "pirates of the caribbean," with only one thought in his mind.
Allen, my son.
Now, it’s their turn to beg us.