America achieves both fame and fortune

Chapter 56 At worst, we'll go to the Holy Valley.

Hearing these words, Martin thought of his past life, of the endless drifting, the peddlers wandering around Clayton, and the corpses falling in front of shotgun barrels.

Who would be willing to crawl at the bottom and be someone's stepping stone?

Who would willingly be squeezed dry of all their essence like an ore?

Who would want to be whipped like a donkey, exerting effort only to go around in circles?

Martin downed his drink in one gulp: "Those who hold me back, I'll kick them to hell; those who block me, I'll push them off a cliff; those who weigh me down, I'll throw them into the fire. Louise, can the future ever be worse than my past?"

"What do I have to lose? If I fail, I can always go back to being a gigolo, or I can always go to Saint Oliver to make adult films! I don't want to be a pauper, stuck at the bottom of society for the rest of my life!"

He grinned, revealing a gap in his teeth on the left side of his mouth: "Did you know? Adam Smith, the most likely candidate to star in 'Zombie Dancer,' has been captured by the DEA."

Louise understood immediately: "I see." She laughed: "A jerk and a quagmire are a perfect match."

"Please continue." Martin poured more drinks for the two of them. No matter how many news reports and rumors he had read in his previous life, they were all just observations from the sidelines and could not compare to Louise's firsthand experience as a producer.

Louise said, "If you want to really develop, leave Atlanta and go to Los Angeles. Georgia's incentives will attract more and more Hollywood crews, but Toronto, Australia, and Morocco did something similar years ago, and they can't become star-making centers. Normal Hollywood crews finalize their main cast and crew before leaving Los Angeles."

She pointed to Martin's mouth: "Accent, your Southern accent is fine for minor roles with few lines, but not for roles with many lines. You don't have a Hollywood accent. Of course, it doesn't matter for a male zombie dancer, since the character is a Southern vampire."

"A Hollywood accent?" Martin was slightly taken aback, but quickly realized, "The common accent in Hollywood movies, right?"

Louise advised, "In addition to daily self-correction, you should also seek professional tutoring. I haven't found any professional training institutions in Atlanta yet. You should learn both the Hollywood accent and the British accent to increase your core competitiveness."

Martin kept the opinions of such professionals in mind: "I'll go to the Savannah College of Art and Design Atlanta branch tomorrow."

Louise added, "The important thing is, when you see an opportunity, don't hesitate. Don't worry about whether the means are despicable or the person is shameless. Winning is the most important thing. If you win, everyone will call everything you've done inspiring; if you lose, no one will care that you acted with integrity."

Martin suddenly said, "Could I use some tricks on you?"

"What?" Louise, the drunkard and lecher, unconsciously let her gaze drift downwards.

Martin raised his glass, adding to the atmosphere: "My genius brain has come up with a few more cocktail ideas."

Louise gritted her teeth: "You're a real bastard! You deserve to wallow in the mud for the rest of your life! You wait, I'll bite your mortar off and turn it into a cocktail shaker!"

Martin, with his thick skin: "A cocktail shaker that produces its own liquor?"

"Shameless, utterly shameless, you certainly have the potential to climb up. Now give me a new recipe." Her hobby was more appealing than her job; Louise made no attempt to hide anything, making a straightforward deal: "This year... I'm very busy with work this year, I also have a film I'm producing, and I'm going to Morocco."

She calculated the time: "Okay, around New Year's, when you go to Los Angeles, I will recommend you to an agency. Your acting skills are fine. I've watched every scene you've filmed, and since I'm very satisfied with you, I'll give you some help."

Martin returned to the beginning: "What about the zombie dancers? Let's put the funding aside."

Louise saw Martin bring out paper and pen, writing down the names and quantities of the drinks, and said, "Being the male lead in a theatrical film is a very important qualification. Damn it, remember this: when choosing a crew and role at the beginning, it's better to be the head of a bunch of chickens than the tail of a phoenix."

She took the paper Martin had finished writing on, kissed it hard, folded it up, and carefully put it away: "Most Hollywood film investments come from co-productions, like my company, which never makes independent films."

"In a production like this, there are always various relationships and interests that need to be balanced. Even if I am the executive producer, I cannot recommend an actor who lacks ability and qualifications for an important role. If the producer and the production company cannot get past the hurdle, you can think about the potential losses of tens or even hundreds of millions of dollars."

Martin sighed: "I need to win over the male lead for this million-dollar project first."

Louise, thinking of something amusing, laughed heartily: "When I recommend you, I can't exactly pull out clips of Ma Zhen, can I?"

"I can help find the funds, Kelly will accept?" Martin said vaguely. "She mentioned money laundering last time."

Louise didn't care at all: "Money laundering is common in the film industry. All those Hollywood blockbuster projects launder money. Just keep good books, keep a low profile, and most importantly, pay your taxes in full. We're all laundering money together."

She and Martin had another drink: "Most Hollywood movies lose money, but massive amounts of money are pouring in from all over the world. Are investors stupid? Let's just say, without a continuous stream of black money, there wouldn't be the prosperity of the film industry today."

Martin believed it because he had seen it before, and Hollywood was certainly more sophisticated than that.

Louise smiled even more broadly: "If you can find a stable and controllable source of funding for Gray Corporation, Kelly can grant you any request."

Martin grasped the key points: stability and controllability.

He said no more, clinking glasses with Louise: "You're about the same."

Louise said proudly, "I'm from Hollywood." She looked directly at Martin and said, "A cocktail isn't enough; I also need penicillin."

…………

As the sun sets, Saijo Street is bustling with people.

Long lines formed in front of the Wild Beast House and the Black Bar.

Most male customers will go to the black bar for a drink first, and then go across the street to flirt with people after 10 o'clock.

The bar wasn't open yet, and Poyet was supervising his men as they moved the drinks when he suddenly received a phone call.

He pointed to Diego, then turned and went to the vicinity of the warehouse, asking, "What's wrong with that idiot Adam Smith?"

They only said two words: "Go quickly."

Hearing the phone call end, Boyet touched his crotch, pulled out his gun, and without notifying his men, crawled into the warehouse, opened a hidden door, went in, and closed it from the inside. He picked up a flashlight that was prepared to the side and crouched down to crawl forward.

He hadn't climbed far when he opened another door, entered the sewer, and ran wildly along it.

After leaving the reserved location, I quickly went into the apartment building next door, opened a room, and changed my clothes.

Boyette went to the window and looked towards Saijo Street. More than a dozen cars with DEA ​​markings rushed past from all directions, surrounding the front and back of the Black Bar. Fully armed agents quickly stormed into the bar.

"These lunatics!" Boyette couldn't help but curse. "With so many guys in Atlanta, why are they targeting me? Because I'm from a black gang in the South Side?"

He gave them the middle finger: "You bunch of black bastards!"

Despite his cursing, Boyette didn't dare linger. He opened a drawer, took out a car key, and quickly drove away from the area.

Once in the car, his few remaining brain cells raced wildly, and everything he thought about was related to Adam Smith.

When Adam Smith was arrested, Poyet didn't take the news seriously and just asked around.

In the entire city of Atlanta, there are at least 800 to 1,000 companies doing this.

Now, however, DEA has come knocking on our door.

Poyet recalled the events surrounding his most recent meeting with Adam Smith.

What exactly is wrong?

(End of this chapter)