Once the deals were finalized, Kevin took his leave, citing the need to prepare for his next project.
Dawson stayed behind, hustling to secure roles for Kevin’s old classmates and several newly signed CAA actors.
After the Saw crew disbanded, every single one of them had signed with the agency.
They were given steady work to hone their skills while waiting for Kevin’s next call.
Naturally, the most sought-after among them was Gregg, the actor behind Jigsaw, who was now fielding an endless stream of film offers.
None of this concerned Kevin, however.
After taking some time to meet with Robert Downey, he headed straight back to his hotel in Beverly Hills.
None of this concerned Kevin, however.
After taking some time to meet with Robert Downey, he headed straight back to his hotel in Beverly Hills.
Come to think of it, ever since he transmigrated, he had been living entirely out of hotels.
It left him feeling a bit like a drifter; after all, he was an orphan with no real family to speak of.
Fortunately, having beautiful women constantly by his side kept the loneliness from creeping in.
…
Back inside the suite, Jolie hadn’t gone anywhere.
She was waiting for him, having decided that Kevin was far more important than her own modeling career.
She had decisively cleared her schedule, fully prepared to stay at the hotel and keep Kevin company.
Even if she didn’t manage to become his wife in the end, staying by his side would put her first in line for a major role in his next project.
It was a vastly superior strategy to hustling around Hollywood on her own.
After treating herself to a lavish room-service meal, Jolie returned to the living room, turned on the TV, and soaked in the leisurely afternoon.
When Kevin opened the door, he found her lounging on the sofa.
Her slightly disheveled state only made her look more exceptionally alluring, instantly stirring his desire.
Just as Kevin was about to step forward and get up to no good, the news broadcast blaring from the television abruptly caught his attention.
“ABC!
Bringing you the fastest, breaking news!”
The network’s slogan flashed across the screen, immediately followed by the top story.
“This is Devin with a follow-up report on the Rodney King incident.
Ever since the March 3rd videotape surfaced showing Rodney King being beaten by LAPD officers after a high-speed pursuit, the public outcry over police brutality has been deafening.” New chapters come out on novelping(.)com first.
“Currently, the four officers seen in the video remain in custody, with their trial scheduled to begin shortly…”
Watching the broadcast, Kevin sat down on the sofa next to Jolie.
His eyes locked onto the screen as his mind immediately started to race.
Beside him, Jolie simply propped her chin in her hand, quietly observing him.
A serious, focused man was always incredibly handsome—especially when he was filthy rich.
The news report had completely jolted Kevin’s memory.
The impending fallout from the Rodney King incident was going to exceed everyone’s wildest expectations.
Next year, on April 2nd, the four police officers involved in the case would be acquitted.
And the consequence of that not-guilty verdict would be the explosive eruption of the Los Angeles riots.
In Kevin’s memory, it was the largest riot in the United States in the late 20th century, lasting for days and causing immeasurable casualties and economic devastation.
Of course, even though Kevin was now an American citizen, he didn’t particularly care about the lives at stake.
All he cared about was what he could personally gain from the ensuing chaos.
At its core, the riot was an explosive release of the Black community’s deep-rooted dissatisfaction with their systemic status in America—a violent outburst that opportunistic forces would inevitably exploit.
But Kevin knew he could harness this boiling societal tension, channeling it into a film that would let Black audiences safely vent those exact frustrations inside a movie theater.
Only Kevin knew just how powerful the Black demographic would become at the box office in the coming decades.
The massive, record-breaking success of Black Panther and its Oscar wins were the ultimate proof.
By seizing this opportunity, Kevin could simultaneously brand himself as a progressive champion of civil rights—an absolutely invincible label in Hollywood.
Thinking of this, Kevin recalled a popular internet joke from his past life: in the future, a transgender, homosexual, disabled, Black environmentalist and animal rights activist would be completely untouchable anywhere in America.
In the coming decades, Hollywood’s obsession with political correctness would reach an almost perverse, prejudiced extreme.
Slapping that protective armor onto himself in advance seemed like a brilliant strategic move.
With that thought, the movie he had originally planned to shoot was instantly scrapped from his mind, replaced by a completely different concept.
Get Out.
The premise of Get Out was incredibly simple: a secluded community of wealthy white people had mastered a surgical technique to hijack the bodies of Black people, allowing the town’s aging inhabitants to achieve a twisted form of immortality.
The white girlfriend, Rose, acts as the bait, luring physically robust Black men back to her family’s estate.
The Black protagonist, Chris, uncovers this horrifying conspiracy and is forced to violently fight his way to freedom.
The story was straightforward, but it exaggerated the historical exploitation of Black people by white society, elevating it into an incredibly tense, fantastical sci-fi thriller.
Of course, for Kevin, the film’s greatest significance was its ability to perfectly strike a massive cultural nerve within the Black community.
It was obvious that with the right promotional push, it would completely ignite that demographic, guaranteeing an explosive box office run.
It could even contend for awards. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
That was the secondary reason Kevin chose this particular film.
He held all the right cards—timing, location, and the social climate.
With the right public relations campaign, securing an Oscar wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.
Sure, he might not win Best Director.
However, taking home Best Picture was a very real possibility.
Given this highly volatile moment in history, Hollywood would be desperate to make a grand political gesture to appease the anger of the Black community…
His mind made up, Kevin firmly locked in his next project.
“Jolie!”
She looked up, startled by the sudden, burning intensity in his voice.
Before she could even ask what was on his mind, Kevin closed the short distance between them, pressing her back into the plush cushions of the sofa.
Jolie let out a soft, surprised gasp as his lips crashed down onto hers with a fierce, demanding heat.
Surrendering to his sudden burst of passion, they let the rest of the afternoon melt away into a haze of heated skin and tangled limbs.
(Omitted)
T/N: Cultured readers, use your imagination!
…
A few days later, Kevin arrived at New Line Cinema carrying the scripts for the Saw sequels, along with detailed storyboarding guidelines.
The two parties officially finalized the copyright buyout.
Shortly after, $31 million in revenue was wired out.
After deducting CAA’s $1.55 million commission and the $100,000 Kevin had already received as an advance, a total of over $29 million landed directly in his personal bank account.
“Kevin, don’t forget to pay your taxes.
In America, the only two guarantees in life are death and taxes,” Dean joked, though the underlying reminder was perfectly genuine.
“Of course, you could always just spend it before then.”
Kevin nodded.
He was intimately familiar with the brutal reality of American tax law.
In theory, if this money wasn’t reinvested or spent before April 15th of next year, the combined state and federal taxes could easily swallow up 60% of his payout.
The robust social welfare systems in developed nations like the United States were naturally built on the backs of these exorbitant tax rates.
Then again, tax evasion—or rather, tax avoidance—was an eternal pastime for the American elite.