How did I become famous?

Chapter 187 That Lord?

This is Grove Street, where Franklin grew up.

It is also a place where community gangs thrive.

Especially since this is a Black community.

"Hey! Isn't this Franklin, the one who betrayed the community? What brings you here to see us black brothers?"

Inside a community basketball court, several black men sat or stood, watching Franklin and Lamar get out of the white Dodge Charger and began to mock them.

"FK YOU! Trevor!" Franklin greeted him with the typical black greeting, "You expect your brothers to have money and then all swarm to suck their blood, is that your so-called way of surviving in the community?"

"Damn it! Your brain has definitely been brainwashed by that Asian guy! That damned Asian!"

"FK YOU!" Little Fu pulled a revolver from his belt and pressed it against Trae's chin. "Sun is my benefactor! He changed my life! If you, you black devil, dare to say another bad word about him, I'll turn you, this piece of shit, from a black devil into a fucking dead black devil!"

"Hey! Hey! Little Fu! Calm down!" Rama separated the two. "Don't forget why we're here today! Do you want to cause trouble?"

Franklin snorted and released Trevor.

Choi adjusted his NBA star-style jersey: "You black bastard, are you trying to play peacemaker? Didn't you also abandon the Grove Gang after becoming a singer?"

"Shit! You piece of shit Nigel!" Rama pulled out his M1911 and pressed it against Trae's forehead. "Huh? Nigel! You want me to make a hole in you, huh?"

Franklin: "."

Rama, you're more short-tempered than me, okay?

Twenty minutes later, the group of irritable Nigels were finally able to sit down and have a proper conversation.

"So you want us to act in that kind of movie?"

"Hmm," Franklin said, "Do you really want to stay this rotten forever? Selling drugs and muddling through life, then who knows when you'll be shot dead by some Nigel or policeman in some unknown corner. And then your sons, grandsons, and all your descendants will follow the same path."

"Shit! Of course we don't want to!" Trevor rapped rapidly, "But what can we do? Black people are supposed to be lazy. We want to be ambitious, but that's just how the world is. Ambitious Black people like you are detached from the community. Who doesn't want to be a lawyer or a doctor? But we have no connections, no money. Even truck drivers aren't wanted."

"Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime." Franklin said this in Chinese, and then explained, "This is a principle that Sun taught me. It means that instead of giving you money directly, it's better to teach you how to make money."

Cui Qi snorted twice, his tone dripping with sarcasm: "So that's how you managed to escape the community and become rich?"

Of course he's jealous.

Did he resent that Chinese man?

Actually, no, he was just jealous of Franklin.

They were jealous of why he got help from that Sun instead of him, Cui Qi.

If he had been the one being taught the lessons back then, he could have escaped this quagmire long ago.

"So, you want to make a movie?" Franklin held out his hand. "Lead the niggers of Grove Street out of their misery, Trey, can you do it?"

"Shit! I'm the boss of the Grove Gang! Of course I can!" Trevor slapped his hand away. "Then what are we supposed to act for? We're just rotten black guys who sell drugs and start wars, we've never studied acting."

"Just play yourself." Franklin shrugged. "In the movie, you'll be playing a bunch of lousy black guys who sell drugs and fight."

"..." Cui Qi cursed, "FK YOU!"

At the border, a maroon pickup truck equipped with four searchlights was parked by the sea.

Trevor and Michael sat side by side on the hood of the car, wearing sunglasses and smoking.

"Shit! Can't you get a really strong one?"

Watching Trevor casually toss away his cigarette, Michael began sarcastically, "Hey, Trevor. Looks like I'll be inheriting your fortune. Still smoking that stuff, you probably only have two more years to live."

"FK YOU! Shit!" Trevor gave him the middle finger. "Trevor Phillips of Phillips Corporation is now the producer of a big-budget movie! What's wrong with a producer taking that? This is Hollywood!"

"First of all, he's just one of the producers. Michael DiSanta is also one of the producers. Secondly, we're not Hollywood, we're going to fucking kill Hollywood!" Michael said, smoking a cigarette, without saying anything more.

He looked up at the dust billowing from the dirt road in the distance, then stubbed out his cigarette on the hood and jumped out: "We're here."

As the dust settled in, a large convoy of vehicles came into view.

Aston Martin, BMW, Mercedes-Benz, Audi, Ford, and even Rolls-Royce, Bugatti, etc.

All kinds of sports cars and supercars, as well as pickup trucks, large trucks, and classic sports cars—you name it!

There were even small planes, small submarines, and small speedboats being towed behind several large trucks!

The convoy stopped, and a man with a wild beard and brown sunglasses got out of the passenger seat of the lead R8.

He shook hands with Michael and Trevor and said in broken English, "It's been a pleasure doing business with you. Everything you asked for is here."

Michael shrugged and pulled out his checkbook: "How much?"

"No need, all of this is free." The bearded man winked. "Your big shot here gave the order that as long as this matter is handled properly, we won't have to pay taxes on any of the cars we sell next year. So, you can take your things."

Michael Trevor exchanged a glance with him: "It's a pleasure doing business with you."

Inside a mysterious office at IRS headquarters.

Jordan, the person in charge of publicity, stood respectfully in front of the desk.

He genuinely respected this person.

This gentleman is one of the rare types of people who doesn't care about skin color.

He's the one who promoted himself, a Black man, to his current position.

It was this official who enhanced the prestige of the IRS.

He also thwarted numerous plots by the FBI and CIA.

Even though they all called him "that evil man" behind his back, everyone in the IRS idolized him!

He is none other than the highest-ranking officer of the IRS, Lord Shaflin!

The boss's chair in front of the floor-to-ceiling window turned around, revealing a simple, unadorned white face.

"Excellent, very good. Jordan, make arrangements; I want to meet this young Chinese man named Bie Fang."

He pointed to the script in his hand: "It's a great script. They just happen to need someone to play the mastermind, right? I think I'm perfect for that."

"Yes, sir! But you have to come in person," Jordan felt uneasy.

This person is personally making public appearances and even wants to act in movies. That's probably not appropriate.

"It's alright, I admire this young man," Shaflin laughed. "Besides, this is the first step in burying those capitalists in Hollywood, so of course I want to get involved myself."

He'd been annoyed with those rich people for a long time!

They're making a fortune! And they keep manipulating the official channels!

And they don't even want to pay inheritance tax!

He could transfer all his assets into a foundation he established, and then have his media outlets promote himself as a philanthropist who would donate all his wealth to charity!

Gain fame and don't have to pay taxes! What a great deal!

Jordan frowned slightly: "Sir, isn't Fang's script a bit too radical?"

"No, no, not at all," Shaflin said calmly. "Jordan, you have to understand, our cause is righteous. But quite a few people within the IRS have already been corrupted by their sugar-coated bullets. So instead of solving it from within, it's better to bring in outsiders with no vested interests."

"And I also know a secret: those people in Hollywood are planning to team up and make a movie," Shaflin smiled slightly. "And it's a superhero movie. Jordan, you've read Fang's script, now you understand how important it is to us, right?"

Jordan's eyes widened: "Such a good thing?"

He had certainly read Fang Bie's script several times!

This is a complete anti-superhero movie!

But what's most outrageous is that the values ​​presented in this movie have absolutely nothing to do with that Eastern country! Even if Fang Bie makes this movie, he can still make superhero movies normally after returning to China!

However, it will be difficult for Hollywood to make superhero movies that are accepted by the public from now on.

Because Fang Bie's script completely touched on the country's sore spots!

In that Eastern country, it's not unusual for superheroes to obey the country's orders and fight evil; in fact, audiences might even enjoy it!

Wasn't that the same as the previous "Captain China" movie?

While the protagonist of "Shadow of Light" is an unusual superhero, he can still be considered a good person.

But that's not the case in Hollywood.

Here, if we say that superheroes are subject to the orders of their country...

While some may agree, most people, influenced by capitalist propaganda, believe that the government is evil.

And Fang Bie's script directly reveals this point.

If the eight major studios were to collaborate on a superhero movie, and then release another movie as a substitute...

Jordan had already anticipated that outcome.

"It seems you've come to understand how important this film is to us," Lord Shaflin chuckled. "I'm getting more and more eager to see Fang."

This country is a country controlled by capital.

The IRS is the bridgehead for official resistance against capitalism.

To be honest, if he hadn't known his own faith and hadn't told himself every day that he was doing it for the country, Shaflin would sometimes have thought he was an undercover agent sent from the East.

"Shall I arrange for you to meet with Fang?"

"Okay, let's schedule it for the day after tomorrow."

After Jordan left, Shaflin looked at the script in his hand and laughed: "Hollywood is finished!"

Two days later—

"Fang, all the actors are settled! Including vehicles and props, we can set off tomorrow to find a location and prepare for filming." Franklin entered the villa excitedly. "However, one actor said he wants to meet you, the director, in person. He's the actor we found to play the behind-the-scenes capitalist, Devant. He's not comfortable without meeting you."

Jordan found the actor, so Little Fu and his friends couldn't very well refuse him.

After all, he's a big shot in the IRS.

Fang Bie shrugged: "Of course, no problem. When do we meet? And what's that gentleman's name?"

"He looks like a white man. Rama said his name is Shaflin."

"what?"

Fang was stunned.

Shafulin?

That sir?

(End of this chapter)