AN: MORE POWERSTONES
===
[Morning] [Wilson Production House – Alex's Office]
Alex sat in his office, going through some documents. There was a cup of coffee on his right.
Across from him sat two representatives from Konami, dressed in business suits, their expressions carefully neutral but their body language betraying their anticipation.
The lead negotiator, a man in his late forties with graying hair and a confident smirk, cleared his throat. "Mr. Wilson, let's get straight to the point. Your novel, Silent Hill: City of Ashes, has taken the literary world by storm. The atmospheric horror, psychological depth, and unique town mythology... it's exactly the kind of IP that would translate beautifully into games, films, and more."
Alex nodded, already knowing where this was going.
The Konami agent leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. "Konami is prepared to make you a very generous offer. We'd like to purchase all rights to Silent Hill. In return, you'd receive a 30% royalty on all future games, comics, merchandise, and any other media we produce."
There it was. The big play.
Alex took a slow sip of his coffee and then set the cup down. His smirk was subtle but unmistakable. "I appreciate the offer. Really, I do. But there's one big problem with it."
The negotiator blinked, clearly not expecting an immediate pushback. "And that is?"
Alex leaned back in his chair, completely relaxed. "You're trying to buy Silent Hill from me. As if it's just a product on a shelf."
The room went silent.
The younger Konami rep, a woman in her thirties, quickly spoke up. "Mr. Wilson, this is a standard industry practice. It allows for better creative control and a streamlined process..."
Alex held up a hand, cutting her off. "I get it. You want full control. You want to turn Silent Hill into a franchise with endless spin-offs, side projects, and whatever else suits your marketing team's quarterly goals. That's fine. But there's zero chance I'm handing over all rights to you."
The older agent frowned. "Mr. Wilson, I don't think you understand..."
"Oh, I understand perfectly," Alex interrupted smoothly. "And I'll say this once, so we don't waste each other's time: You can adapt Silent Hill: City of Ashes into a game. You can license the rights for a single title, or even a series, under my oversight. But if you're expecting me to just sign away my creation and let you do whatever you want with it?"
He smiled.
"That's not happening."
The tension in the room shifted. The younger agent hesitated, glancing at her colleague. The older man's smirk had faded.
"Mr. Wilson," he said carefully, "this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. 30% royalties are a massive share in this industry. Most authors don't get that kind of deal."
Alex shrugged. "I'm not most authors."
A heavy silence hung in the air after Alex's rejection. The older Konami rep's confident smirk was gone, replaced by a tense, forced neutrality. The younger rep shifted uncomfortably, clearly aware that things weren't going as planned.
Alex, on the other hand, was completely at ease. He reached for his coffee, took a slow sip, then set it back down. "You're acting like I'm turning down the best offer I'll ever get. But let's be real here... you need me a hell of a lot more than I need you."
The older rep bristled. "Mr. Wilson, we're offering you an unprecedented opportunity..."
Alex chuckled. "Yeah? Let's talk about that." He leaned forward slightly, his eyes sharp. "Konami's stock has been dropping for months. Bomberman: Act Zero was a disaster, your latest Yu-Gi-Oh! game barely broke even, and Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater is the only thing keeping your reputation afloat. But you and I both know that's Hideo Kojima's genius, not yours. And if my sources are correct, I heard Kojima's planning to split from Konami."
The older man's face twitched, but he said nothing.
Alex continued, his tone almost amused. "The only consistently good thing you've got left is Castlevania, and even that's running out of steam. And let's not even get started on the workplace horror stories coming out of your offices. Word gets around, and let's just say, your reputation isn't exactly sparkling."
The younger rep stiffened. "Those are unsubstantiated rumors..."
Alex tilted his head. "Are they?" He let the question hang in the air.
Neither of them had an answer.
Alex smirked. "You think I don't do my research before walking into a meeting? Please. You want Silent Hill: City of Ashes because it's the hottest horror IP on the market right now. You think slapping 'Silent Hill' on a game guarantees a hit. But that's not how this works."
He gestured to them. "You're here because you need me. Because you know I'm the one who understands the psychological horror that made Silent Hill legendary. And if you can't buy me out, you'll have to actually work with me, which is clearly not what you want."
The older rep's patience finally snapped. "Alright, fine. If that's how you feel, Mr. Wilson, then we won't waste your time any further."
Alex's smirk widened. "Oh, I was never wasting time. You were. I clearly remember sending your team an email, saying not interested, after your team approached us. Yet here we are. So, goodbye."
The younger rep gathered her papers, still looking stunned by how quickly the meeting had collapsed. The older man stood stiffly, buttoning his suit jacket. "We'll see how long your arrogance lasts. Making a movie and a game is like sky and earth. When you realize what you've lost, don't expect us to come knocking again."
Alex leaned back in his chair, completely unbothered. "Oh, don't worry. I won't."
With that, the Konami reps stormed out. The door shut behind them with a sharp click, leaving Alex alone in the quiet office.
He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair.
Konami thought they could bully him into selling. That was their first mistake.
Their second?
Thinking Silent Hill needed them more than he needed Silent Hill.
Their third?
Well, a young rising star like Alex would do anything to get rich and fame.
Alex finished his coffee...
Rachel stepped into the office and all but collapsed into the chair across from him, rubbing her temples. She was having a rush day and was a little exhausted.
"Don't tell me you're planning on opening your own game company," she groaned, giving him a pointed look.
Alex smirked. "Maybe in the future, but not yet."
Rachel let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Thank God. I'm already running this empire at maximum capacity. If you add gaming to the mix, I'll actually need to clone myself."
Alex chuckled. "Noted."
Rachel straightened, tapping a folder against her palm. "Alright, Boss, your schedule's packed today. We've got back-to-back meetings with directors, writers, and a couple of newbies. Post-production for Lost in Translation officially kicks off in four days, and today's agenda is..." She flipped open her tablet. "Movie pitches. Lots of them."
Alex stretched his arms, "Well, let's begin..."
...
Alex walked into the conference room.
As soon as he sat down, the pitching frenzy began.
This was the typical grind of a production house—endless pitches, negotiations, script evaluations, and deciding what projects were worth his time and money. Some ideas were generic cash grabs, others had potential, but most were forgettable.
1. A Generic Action Movie (Pass)
A director pitched a story with a retired assassin coming back for "one last job." The plot was waterthin with very little for imagination. Alex barely concealed his yawn. Pass.
2. A Superhero Film (Eh...)
A studio rep pitched an indie superhero flick, "a dark, gritty take on the genre." But the story was about a group of trapped kids with superpowers killing villains and was filled with gory. Not to mention it was filled with profanity. So, pass.
3. A Biopic on a Historical Figure (Too safe, too boring)
A producer excitedly pitched a biopic about a famous scientist from the 1800s. Important? Sure. Exciting? Not really. Alex respected historical films, but they weren't his priority right now. Pass.
4. A Psychological Horror Project (Interesting, but... no wow factor)
One writer presented a mind-bending psychological horror concept. It had potential, but the climax was shit. Hard pass.
...
Alex leaned back in his chair as the last pitch of the day was handed to him. Rachel adjusted her glasses, giving him a knowing look. "This one's from Peter Jackson's team."
That got his attention.
"Peter Jackson? The guy who made The Heavenly Creatures?" Alex asked, flipping through the folder.
Rachel nodded. "Yep. He's got a vision for something big. Something... massive but risky."
"Send them in..." Alex pressed the call button to the guy outside.
The door opened, and in walked Peter Jackson himself, accompanied by his lead producer and scriptwriter. Jackson looked as enthusiastic as ever, a spark of excitement in his eyes as he approached the table.
"Alex! A huge fan of your work. Been wanting to meet you for a while," Jackson said, extending his hand.
Alex shook it. "Likewise. So, what's the big idea?"
Jackson wasted no time, pulling out a thick script and placing it on the table. "It's King Kong."
'This is it. The beginning of the Monsterverse. Should I buy it out? Well, let's see how this one goes,' Alex arched an eyebrow. "A King Kong movie?"
Jackson smiled. "Not just any King Kong movie. The definitive King Kong movie. A love letter to the original, but bigger, bolder, and emotionally deeper. Imagine Skull Island in all its untamed glory. Dinosaurs, ancient ruins, and a Kong."
Alex flipped through the script, scanning the opening pages. "Alright, this sounds ambitious. What's the catch?"
Jackson exchanged glances with his producer before sighing. "We need a second producer. Someone with serious money backing this project. Universal's willing to distribute, but they're hesitant to fund it at the scale we need. Blackstar Studios backed out too. And my friend here is putting his best out here, but we are still lacking."
Alex caught the unspoken words. Universal didn't want to take all the risk. They were willing to support it, but not finance the entire production. As for Blackstar Studios... They were money-hungry bastards. They won't take a risk like this one.
"So, what are we looking at budget-wise?" Alex asked, already calculating.
Jackson leaned forward. "We need at least $120 million to do this right. The sets, the CGI, the motion capture for Kong himself... it's all cutting-edge stuff. I don't want to half-ass this. Kong has to feel real."
Alex exhaled slowly. $120 million was like a glass of water to him. But, big-budget blockbusters were risky, but when done right, they made history. Can this version of Peter Jackson pull it off?
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Let's negotiate."
[Two Hours Later]
The room was intense. Numbers were thrown around. Contracts were dissected. Rachel took notes at lightning speed. Jackson fought for every creative decision. Alex pushed for maximum control over finances and distribution rights.
At one point, Jackson's producer tried to lowball Alex's share of profits, but Alex just smirked and leaned back. "I'll give you 250 million, plus full creative control to you and I'll be the sole producer for this movie. So... Time to decide."
Peter Jackson stared at Alex like he had just grown a second head. His lead producer visibly tensed, gripping the armrest of his chair as if he had misheard. Even Rachel, who had been silently taking notes this entire time, paused mid-typing and glanced at Alex with an arched eyebrow.
"$250 million?" Jackson repeated, his voice a mix of disbelief and intrigue. "You're serious?"
Alex smirked. "Do I look like I'm joking?"
The room fell into silence for a few seconds. Jackson leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. "That's… an insane amount. Way over what we originally projected. Most studios would rather cut corners or force compromises. Why are you offering that much?"
Alex tapped the script in front of him. "Because I want this done right. You're talking about creating the definitive King Kong movie, something that isn't just another monster flick but an event. I can see the potential, but only if it's executed flawlessly. No budget issues, and no studio interference. Just you, your team, and complete creative freedom. But I will send someone from my team to keep an eye on the budget."
Jackson exchanged glances with his producer, who still looked skeptical. The producer leaned forward. "Mr. Wilson, we appreciate the enthusiasm, but what's the catch? No one throws $250 million at a project without expecting something in return."
Alex chuckled. "Smart question. My conditions are simple. One, I am the sole producer. That means all major financial and logistical decisions go through me. I don't interfere creatively, but I make sure the business side stays on track. Two, marketing and distribution? That's my call. I don't want Universal or any other to meddle in between. Three, profit sharing. Since I'm the one funding this entirely, I take a 40% share of net profits. The remaining gets split between you, your team, and everyone else."
Jackson's producer nearly choked. "Forty percent? That's ridiculous!"
Alex shrugged. "I'm taking all the risk. You are taking full creative freedom. Plus 50 million extra. If this flops, I eat the loss. If it succeeds, I get the biggest cut. Seems fair to me."
Jackson, however, wasn't fazed. He leaned forward, eyes sharp. "And you're okay with zero creative control? You're just going to hand me $250 million and let me do my thing?"
Alex nodded. "I don't invest in people I don't trust. I've seen your work. If you say this is your passion project, I believe you. I'm not here to micromanage. I'm here to make sure you have everything you need to deliver."
Jackson studied him for a long moment. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face. "You're either crazy, reckless, or a goddamn genius."
Alex smirked. "Maybe all three."
Jackson let out a breath and extended his hand. "Deal."
Alex shook it firmly.
The producer, still reeling, muttered under his breath, "Jesus Christ…"
Rachel, finally snapping out of her shock, cleared her throat and pulled up her tablet. "Alright, I'll have our legal team draft the necessary contracts. Mr. Jackson, we'll coordinate with your people for the next steps. Pre-production can start immediately."
Jackson beamed. "This is happening."
Alex leaned back, satisfied. "Now, let's make some history."
...
[4:00 PM]
Alex stretched his arms, finally done with the last of his meetings for the day. It had been a long one—negotiating with Peter Jackson, shutting down Konami's attempt to buy Silent Hill: City of Ashes, and sitting through an avalanche of mediocre movie pitches. But now, his schedule was clear.
He picked up his phone, checking for any important messages. Among the usual emails and updates from Rachel, one notification caught his eye.
Scarlett Johansson: Hey, Big Shot Producer. Hope you're not too busy making Hollywood history.
Alex smirked, leaning back in his chair as he typed a reply.
Alex: You know me, always breaking records. What's up, Rookie Actress?
A few seconds later, his phone vibrated again.
Scarlett: Rookie?! Excuse you, I've been in TWO major films already. Plus two TV series. I think that makes me at least a "semi-experienced" actress. 😤
Alex chuckled.
Alex: Oh, my bad. Semi-Experienced Scarlett. That better?
Scarlett: Much better. You learn fast. 😉
He shook his head, amused by her playful attitude. She had been an interesting one to work with... young but sharp, still fresh in the industry but already carrying herself with the confidence of someone who knew she belonged there.
Alex: So, something on your mind?
Scarlett: Just finished an audition. It was… meh. Director was kinda weird. Thought I'd text someone interesting to make up for it.
Alex: And out of all the people in your contacts, you chose me?
Scarlett: Don't let it get to your head, Mr. Wilson.
Alex smirked.
Alex: Too late.
A short pause. Then another message popped up.
Scarlett: You still in the office?
Alex: Just wrapped up. Why? You need something?
Scarlett: Well… I could use a distraction. If you're free, that is.
That was all the invitation he needed.
Alex: How about dinner? Unless you've got better plans.
Scarlett: Oh, my? You asking me out, Mr. Wilson?
Alex: Let's call it a friendly meal between two incredibly attractive people.
Scarlett: Pfft. Smooth.
A brief pause.
Scarlett: Alright, I'm in. Where are we going?
-[POWERSTONES AND REVIEWS PLS]----
Support link: www.patr eon.com/UnknownMaster
[7 advance chs] + [4 chs of Two and a Half Men] [All chs available for all tiers]
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AN: Next few chs will be focused on SJ.