[Chapter 313: This World Is Wonderful (Grand Finale)]
Chris's eyes lit up as she listened. "Wow, Master, that was so cool! It's bursting with masculine tension!"
Daniel ignored her enthusiasm and continued, "The plot that follows is simple. Only 96 hours. The protagonist enters Paris alone, fighting from the airport through the slums, from the red-light district to the auction house. No distractions, no compromises -- just precise, cold, and efficient killing."
"Oh, right," Daniel suddenly remembered his promise to Jessica. "The script needs a slight adjustment. In the original idea, the daughter was just a trophy victim. In this one, she needs to be smarter. During her kidnapping, she uses little tricks her father taught her to leave clues. And in the final climax, she must team up with her father to pull off the counterattack. Jessica Alba deserves a moment like that to shine."
After an hour of explaining the movie's pacing, the exciting beats, and key action scenes, Daniel said, "Alright, that's everything." He lifted his teacup to moisten his throat. "Organize it into an outline, then hire the best action screenwriter in Hollywood to flesh out the details. We'll sign a non-disclosure agreement and buy out the authorship rights."
Chris stared at the text filling the screen, then looked up at Daniel admiringly. "Master, the story's pace is so tight. Once it's filmed, it's definitely going to be a box office hit."
"Of course." Daniel stood and gazed at the sunset in the distance. "This is a gift for Jessica, and it's also the company's first wholly owned series IP."
"Wholly owned?" Chris asked.
"Yeah, 100 percent ownership." Daniel's voice took on a commanding tone. "We don't need EuropaCorp or distributors pointing fingers. This time, we're taking the whole pie ourselves."
Chris's fingers tapped the last character on the virtual keyboard. On the screen, a detailed plot outline for Taken was complete. She closed the virtual notebook and looked up, "The story's perfect, but who's going to write the script? Action movies demand tight rhythm and snappy dialogue. Most screenwriters can't capture that kind of intensity."
Daniel tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the table. The first name that came to mind was Luc Besson. He was the original creator, and his style fit perfectly. But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he dismissed it. Luc Besson wasn't just some unknown writer -- he was EuropaCorp's boss and a flagbearer for French cinema. Hiring him would mean not just a job, but joint production, investment shares, even distribution control. That would mean losing full ownership. So no, they couldn't risk letting him know about the project.
"Master, then who are we looking for?" Chris asked.
"Hollywood screenwriters good at hard-boiled action films come with high price tags and fixed partners," she continued.
Daniel said nothing for a moment, searching his mind for a suitable candidate. None quite fit -- either too expensive, too slow, or unfamiliar. Seeing his silence, Chris rolled her eyes and floated forward a step. "Master, actually... there's no need to look elsewhere."
She pointed to herself, a confident smile spreading across her face. "I can do it."
Daniel blinked and looked her over. "You?"
"Yes, me." Chris puffed out her chest, her tone firm. "I've already hacked into the Writers Guild's database. I've read every action movie script from the past thirty years, including unfilmed drafts -- over fifty thousand of them. I know every narrative rhythm, every dialogue trope, every classic plot point. With your detailed outline, I just need to add the flesh. And my speed is a hundred times that of any human."
Daniel looked at her thoughtfully. It was a brilliant idea. Not only would it save money and be highly efficient, but it would be absolutely confidential. No chance of leaks.
"I believe you have the capability," Daniel said practically. "But you don't have an official identity. When the script is done, it needs copyright registration. The Guild requires real-name registration -- you're 'unregistered.'"
Chris smiled mysteriously and tapped her finger in the air. Images of a driver's license and social security card appeared. The photo showed Chris in her human form, with the name "Christina Adra" on it.
"I've already forged an identity," she said proudly. "Birth certificate, social security records, tax filings, even academic transcripts from elementary school through university. I've implanted them all into the federal database. Unless they turn it upside down, they won't discover I'm fake for a hundred years. No, even if they do, they won't find me."
Daniel stared at the realistic ID card, somewhat surprised. "You really move fast."
"Of course, as your assistant, I have to plan ahead." Chris floated behind Daniel, placed her hands on his shoulders, and gently massaged them. "Besides, Master, once the script is finished, the authorship rights will mainly be yours. You'll be credited as the primary screenwriter, and I'll be the second. All the honors and awards will be yours."
Daniel smiled. This was the perfect tool -- able to work, won't steal credit, and could even warm the bed.
"Good." Daniel patted her hand resting on his shoulder. "Then I'll leave it to you. I want the first draft in a week."
"Three days." Chris held up three fingers, her eyes confident. "Three days is plenty. And I guarantee it'll be better than what those million-dollar screenwriters deliver."
Daniel stood and said, "Then let's begin. I look forward to your masterpiece."
He walked to the window and gazed out at the night scene. The splendor of this world was unfolding before him, bit by bit.
(The End)
*****
https://www.patreon.com/Sayonara816.
https://discord.gg/HjHHhUXPn7.