My teacher is Bruce Lee, who dominated Hollywood.

Chapter 177 Progress in Hong Kong

Michael immediately put down the ribs he was holding and picked up the receiver: "Who is this?"

A tremendous sound erupted from the receiver, and even Qin Han, sitting several meters away, could hear the desperate roar and the chaotic sound of the waves.

Michael's expression changed instantly. He covered the microphone and turned to Qin Han: "Boss—it's a long-distance call from the East Coast of the United States. Steven Spielberg—he seems to have collapsed."

Qin Han immediately took the receiver from Michael: "This is Qin Han."

"Qin! We're finished! Utterly finished!"

On the other end of the phone, Spielberg's voice carried a desolate, frenzied tone.

The Jaws crew, located on Martha's Vineyard in Massachusetts, is currently facing a catastrophic disaster.

"That damn mechanical shark! That piece of junk named Bruce!" Spielberg cursed desperately into the phone. "The seawater here is so salty! It's completely corroded the shark's internal pneumatic system!"

"We planned to film it leaping out of the water this morning, but the idiot sank to the bottom like a rock the moment it entered the water! It took the salvage team all day to pull it up! All the electrical circuits were burned out!"

"Universal Pictures' finance department has gone mad. They stood on the dock, pointing their finger at me and yelling that I was burning money! They threatened to cut the power to the crew and immediately revoke my directorial license if I couldn't shoot a complete shark attack scene by tomorrow!"

"Qin, I can't film sharks anymore—this movie is ruined, and my career is ruined too—"

To everyone's surprise, Qin Han showed no sign of panic in the face of this disaster that could have caused any investor to have a stroke.

He knew that the opportunity to create a Hollywood "summer blockbuster" had finally arrived.

"Now, calm down. Answer me one question."

"What do you think would be the most terrifying and chilling thing for a tourist swimming in the unfathomable depths of the ocean—seeing a poorly made rubber shark?"

"Is it still that deadly threat lurking beneath the dark surface of the water, unknown, cold, its full form unseen, yet capable of biting off his legs at any moment?"

The roar on the other end of the phone disappeared instantly, and only the roar of waves crashing against the rocks on Martha's Vineyard Island could be heard.

After a long half minute, a trembling roar suddenly came from the receiver.

Spielberg's brilliant mind suddenly sparked with inspiration that would change the history of Hollywood.

"God—my God—"

"Hide it—hide it! Since that mechanical shark is junk, we'll hide it!" He yelled incoherently on the other end of the phone, completely losing his mind. "No full view! For the first sixty minutes, absolutely no part of that piece of scrap metal will be shown!"

"We can use cameras instead of sharks' eyes! Yes! Underwater first-person perspective! Let the camera skim the surface, weaving between the legs of tourists who have no idea death is approaching!"

Spielberg spoke faster and faster, even starting to envision the soundtrack: "We'll add cellos! That deep, monotonous string music! Every time the camera gets closer underwater, the strings speed up! The audience will have heart attacks from the deep-sea monsters they've imagined!"

Qin Han stood on the other end of the phone, listening to Spielberg complete one of the greatest self-evolutions in film history, and the smile in his eyes grew even stronger.

"Qin! You are a god! You are simply a deity sent by God to save me!"

Spielberg roared maniacally, "To hell with the mechanical sharks! I'm going to tear up all the storyboards and redraw them right now! Let them see what real deep-sea terror is!"

"Click".

Before Qin Han could say anything more, the phone was abruptly hung up, leaving only a busy tone.

Michael Ovitz still clutched the tissue he had used to wipe the oil stains, his eyes filled with undisguised horror.

Stallone held a half-eaten roast goose in his hand, his mouth slightly open, his chewing motion completely halted, while Renee next to him even held her breath.

Universal Pictures' multi-million dollar production had its expensive mechanical great white shark scrapped.

Any Hollywood producer receiving a call like this would be absolutely furious and want to strangle the young director who threw the budget into the sea.

But Qin Han not only didn't get angry, but with just a few words, he pulled a director back from the brink of collapse, and even—achieved a near-miraculous reverse sublimation.

"Don't look at me like that."

Under everyone's gaze, Qin Han picked up his soda water, tilted his head back, and took a big gulp: "The crisis is over, everyone continue."

"Boss, about that underwater first-person perspective you mentioned earlier—" Michael couldn't help but ask, his voice filled with eager curiosity, "How did you come up with that solution in just a few seconds?"

"Because I already guessed that that broken machine wouldn't last three days in the sea." Qin Han walked to the sofa, sat down, and lay down with his legs crossed. "Besides, this isn't my original idea. Go look up Alfred Hitchcock's film theory; the essence of fear is always something unseen."

Michael felt a chill run down his spine.

He had thought that Qin Han only had an extraordinary talent for business negotiations and investment, but only today did he truly understand that this man's mastery of film art had also reached a terrifying level.

"Alright, the farce on the East Coast is over. Michael, go connect me to an international call." Qin Han didn't dwell on the topic any longer, pointing to the landline, "Dial to Hong Kong, find my master."

Michael immediately composed himself, strode over, picked up the receiver, and began calling the international operator.

More than two minutes passed before the phone finally connected with a beeping sound.

If you calculate the time difference, it's a starry night in Los Angeles right now, while it's midday in Kowloon Peninsula, Hong Kong.

"Feed? Who?"

Hearing that familiar voice, Qin Han's brows relaxed, and he leaned back into the sofa, adopting a more relaxed tone: "Master, judging from this noise, you're about to tear down Golden Harvest's studio, aren't you?"

"Ah Han!" Bruce Lee's voice rose several octaves instantly, accompanied by a hearty laugh: "I've been waiting days for this call from you, kid. Everything went smoothly, right?"

"The casting for Rocky was finalized this afternoon. I forced Warner Bros. to change their shooting schedule, and in a few days the crew will be out on the streets of Philadelphia."

"As for Disney, they just finalized a six-million-dollar animation investment, and the 'Little Mermaid' project has officially started. Plus, they just settled things with that damn shark at Universal that was on strike—"

Qin Han deliberately drawled out the last syllable: "Master, I've finally cleared up all my tasks here. Your 'Death Game'..."

"You're falling behind a bit; this isn't like the speed of Jeet Kune Do."

Bruce Lee burst into even louder laughter on the other end of the phone: "You brat, you actually dared to come and lecture your master! Do you think making a truly original martial arts film is like going to the market to buy cabbages?"

He seemed to have moved to a relatively quiet corner, where the background noise had lessened considerably.

"Ah Han, I gained so much from this trip back to Hong Kong! I turned down all sorts of messy business engagements and visited some real martial arts masters."

"I watched Muay Thai fighters fight in the underground boxing scene in Kowloon Walled City, witnessed the magic wand master's short stick fighting skills, and even found a few black belt karate fighters to fight two solid matches in a venue without a referee."

Upon hearing this, Qin Han's nerves involuntarily tensed up.

He knew his master's temperament; in pursuit of the most realistic combat feel on the big screen, he was absolutely capable of personally going down into the arena to test the various schools' killing moves.

Bruce Lee continued, "The core of 'Game of Death' is to showcase the philosophy of Jeet Kune Do, which is 'using no way as way.'"

"I have already selected the guardians for the first four levels. From a master of Hapkido from South Korea to a short stick expert from the Philippines, they are all formidable characters with real skills."

Bruce Lee softened his tone slightly at this point, "The only problem now is the last opponent at the very top of the pagoda, the one responsible for bringing up the rear."

Qin Han understood immediately; he certainly knew who that person was.

In the film history of the past, the scene of Bruce Lee, wearing a yellow tracksuit, engaging in a life-or-death duel with a black basketball superstar who was 2.2 meters tall and as tall as an iron tower on the top of a pagoda is an absolute classic that transcends time.

"Karim Abdul-Jaber," Qin Han said directly, stating the name.

Bruce Lee on the other end of the phone paused for a moment, then burst into laughter again, "Haha! How is your brain structured? You can even guess exactly what I'm thinking."

"That's right, it's Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. Only someone with his height and wingspan can create such a strong visual contrast."

"I want to show the audience how Jeet Kune Do can overcome absolute physical disadvantages and turn the tide in desperate situations."

"He's my student in Los Angeles, and he's absolutely obsessed with Chinese Kung Fu," Bruce Lee said confidently. "I've already had Andrew book his flight back to the US immediately to go to Los Angeles to talk to him in person. Once we've secured him, 'Game of Death' will start filming right away!"

"We're waiting for you to come back in Los Angeles, Master."

Qin Han's gaze softened considerably. This martial arts master, who had reversed his tragic fate, was finally about to complete his poignant swan song in the history of world cinema.

"Boss, I have something to report to you." Bruno's voice suddenly came through the microphone.

Qin Han quickly asked in a low voice, "How is it? Is there a problem?"

"Everything is under control, boss." Bruno's voice was extremely calm. "As you expected, there have been some shady characters following us these past few months."

"On the very night Mr. Li went to Kowloon Walled City to watch an underground boxing match, three 'rats' tried to approach from the outside."

"They may have thought that lawless place was a perfect ambush location, but they didn't know that the intricate alleyways there were, in our eyes, a perfect slaughterhouse."

Qin Han curled his fingers and tapped lightly on the sofa armrest: "Is it all taken care of? Did you alert my master or the local police?"

"Don't worry, boss, no guns were used, and the whole process took less than two minutes. You don't need to worry. No matter how many of these Japanese bastards come, we'll take care of them."

"Well done, Bruno." Qin Han was very satisfied with this decisive and ruthless approach.

It's foolish to rely on laws and rules when dealing with venomous snakes lurking in the shadows; only by eliminating them with more brutal violence can we deter the masterminds behind the scenes.

"But don't let your guard down," Qin Han reminded him. "Once Master finishes the formalities in the next few days, you should immediately escort him onto the flight back to Los Angeles. Once he's in American airspace, those rats won't be able to cause any more trouble."

"Understood, boss. I will personally lead the team to escort them throughout the entire process."

"There's one more thing. Mr. Andrew Morgan came to see me this morning specifically to ask me to pass on a message to you."

Qin Han's brow twitched slightly.

As Hans's agent in Hong Kong, Andrew was mainly responsible for coordinating the film's Asian distribution. Unless it was something particularly urgent, he wouldn't bypass the normal work reporting process and specifically come to Bruno to relay a message.

"What is it?"

"About that thing you had him work on at the electronics factory in the New Territories." Bruno was clearly not very interested in those circuit boards and monitors, and his tone was somewhat dry: "Andrew said they succeeded. Those local Hong Kong electronics technicians have completely disassembled that machine and successfully reassembled an identical motherboard using inexpensive, general-purpose electronic components."

Upon hearing this, Qin Han sat up abruptly.

This potential bombshell, capable of revolutionizing the entire technological and entertainment landscape of the 1970s, has finally been successfully detonated!

This is a true blue ocean market, the starting point for a massive industry that could potentially generate hundreds of billions of dollars in market value in the future.

But in 1973, the industry had no patent barriers, no copyright protection laws, and not even the most basic industry standards.

It's like a completely undefended virgin territory; whoever can manufacture machines and deploy them to the market the fastest will reap the first wave of profits.

In the original historical timeline, Atari, constrained by high manufacturing costs and outdated production capacity in North America, could only watch helplessly as countless imitators emerged in the market.

Ultimately, it was those Japanese companies, located across the ocean, that entered North America with their powerful manufacturing sector.

From Taito to Sega, and later Nintendo, Japanese conglomerates seized the arcade era's dominance by leveraging low costs and massive production capacity. They then continuously channeled the enormous profits generated back into Japan, which became the capital for the expansion of these conglomerates.

This is precisely what the Qin and Han dynasties could not tolerate.

Since he has already forged a deep-seated enmity with the Japanese right-wing financial groups, he must cut off their most important lifeline from the root!

"Andrew was very excited," Bruno continued reporting on the phone. "He said that the counterfeit motherboards made in those Hong Kong factories were ridiculously cheap."

"He asked you whether we should immediately lease a large factory and begin mass production?"

"Tell Andrew to calm down. Don't rush."

Qin Han took a deep breath, suppressing the grand plans churning in his mind: "Sending the machines back to the United States to go head-to-head with Atari is the most foolish strategy right now."

"North America is Atari's home base. Revealing our hand too early will only provoke a fierce counterattack from them, and may even alarm those established American capital firms that are watching from the sidelines."

After careful consideration, Qin Han conveyed his idea: "The first step is to use the existing contract manufacturers to produce 500 sample machines."

T

"Then, don't sell them to anyone else. Have Andrew go to Mr. Xiang Qian and, through his connections in Hong Kong, get these 500 machines deployed for free in the most bustling and densely populated entertainment venues in Southeast Asia."

"Let's see just how much of a reaction this bomb will have!"