“You lost more than fourteen million dollars in a single week! Do you seriously believe I won’t sell one of your kidneys to recover some of that money?”
Mark Anderson opened his eyes and found a woman standing directly in front of him, staring down with an expression that looked capable of murder.
Years of working as a director caused his professional instincts to react before his mind could understand the situation, and he automatically began judging how she would look on camera.
She stood around five-foot-seven and probably weighed close to 120 pounds, while her long straight legs, black stockings, and three-inch heels gave her the proportions of a professional model.
An actress with that kind of height could actually create problems if paired with the wrong male lead.
If her co-star happened to be shorter, he would probably spend close-ups standing on an apple box, while wider shots would become much harder to frame naturally.
Mark’s gaze traveled higher, taking in the fitted black pencil skirt, crisp white blazer, and thin silver necklace resting against her pale neck.
Then he saw her face clearly.
She was undeniably beautiful, with sharp features, striking red lips, and the kind of confidence that made bold makeup look effortless rather than excessive.
She had the polished presence of a major Hollywood actress, the sort of woman who could dominate a movie poster before audiences even knew what the film was about.
With the right script and director, she looked perfectly capable of carrying a major studio production.
There was only one problem.
Why was she looking at him like she wanted him dead?
Before Mark could think any further, a violent wave of unfamiliar memories suddenly crashed into his mind.
Names, contracts, places, conversations, and fragments of another life poured into his head so quickly that he could no longer distinguish his own memories from those belonging to the man whose body he now occupied.
“Ah—damn it!” Mark cried out as he slipped from the chair, curled up on the floor, and clutched his head with both hands.
The woman froze briefly before irritation replaced her surprise.
“Mark Anderson, don’t even try this with me. Get up!” she snapped, but he could barely hear her because it felt as though two entire lives were being forced together inside his skull.
Several painful minutes passed before the flood of memories finally began settling into something coherent.
Mark slowly opened his eyes, his forehead covered in cold sweat.
The woman’s expression softened slightly when she noticed his condition, and she crouched beside him before wrapping her slender fingers around his wrist.
“Are you actually okay?” she asked with a frown.
Mark looked at her hand, then slowly raised his eyes.
He had transmigrated.
In his previous life, Mark had directed movies involving possession, alternate realities, ghosts, reincarnation, and people waking up in other bodies, but he had never imagined anything so absurd could actually happen to him.
More importantly, he had never wanted another life in the first place.
Only the night before, he had been celebrating after winning Best New Director for his debut feature.
His first movie had performed far beyond expectations, studio executives had begun contacting his agent, and his career finally looked ready to take off.
Yet after closing his eyes for what should have been an ordinary night’s sleep, he had awakened inside another version of America.
This world was extremely similar to the one Mark remembered.
Hollywood still dominated the American film industry, Los Angeles remained packed with studios, actors, writers, and producers, and modern society seemed almost completely familiar.
There were differences, however, and many movies he remembered from his previous life appeared to be missing entirely.
Even stranger, Mark Anderson existed in this world too.
He was still a director, and this version of him had also just completed his debut feature.
Unfortunately, while Mark’s original debut had launched his career, his counterpart’s first movie had failed so spectacularly that calling it a disaster almost seemed generous.
The production had cost roughly $25 million.
After seven days in theaters, it had earned only around $850,000 before exhibitors began reducing its screenings and eventually pulling it from most theaters.
That alone would have been devastating, but Mark’s situation was far worse because the previous owner of this body had signed a performance guarantee with the company financing the movie.
Under the agreement, if the project failed badly enough to recover the company’s investment, Mark would become personally responsible for the unrecovered amount.
After the film’s miserable theatrical performance and the contract’s accounting adjustments were taken into consideration, he was now facing approximately $24 million in debt.
Seriously?
What kind of nightmare opening was this?
He had crossed into another world only to begin his new life owing twenty-four million dollars.
For several seconds, Mark genuinely wondered whether knocking himself unconscious again might somehow send him back.
“Stop pretending. There’s obviously nothing wrong with you.”
The woman stood and returned to her previous cold expression.
Mark was still sitting awkwardly on the floor, so he quickly climbed back to his feet and said, “Ms. Parker, I really did have a headache.”
The woman was Evelyn Parker, president and owner of Silverline Pictures, the company that had financed Mark’s disastrous debut.
More importantly, she was now his largest creditor.
The agreement that had buried him beneath twenty-four million dollars of debt carried Evelyn’s signature and Silverline Pictures’ approval.
“Enough.” Evelyn crossed her arms, looked up at him, and pointed toward the chair beside him.
“Sit down.”
Mark was several inches taller than her even with the heels she wore, and she clearly disliked having to tilt her head upward during an argument.
Considering that he owed her company enough money to ruin several careers, Mark obediently returned to his chair without protesting.
Evelyn stared at him and said angrily, “From the moment you came into my office asking me to finance that ridiculous project, I told you it was going to fail. You refused to listen, and now look at you. Suddenly you’ve learned how to behave.”
Mark searched through the memories he had inherited and reluctantly realized that she had been right.
The script had been weak, the production had burned through money without restraint, and several creative decisions were so poor that the director inside him almost felt embarrassed reviewing them.
Looking back, the strangest thing was not that the film had failed, but that anyone had agreed to invest nearly twenty-five million dollars in it.
He looked at Evelyn curiously.
“Ms. Parker, there’s something I genuinely don’t understand. Why did you give me that much money in the first place?”
Evelyn stared at him before laughing in disbelief.
“Why? Because apparently I’m an idiot. You walked into this office, gave me some passionate speech about changing Hollywood, and somehow convinced me to throw tens of millions of dollars into a furnace. What other explanation do you want?”
Her answer unexpectedly eased some of the tension in the room, and Mark immediately recognized the opportunity.
“You already know I don’t have twenty-four million dollars,” he said with a helpless smile.
“Even if you actually sold one of my kidneys, exactly how much of that debt would it recover?”
“Then what exactly are you suggesting?” Evelyn asked coldly.
Mark hesitated briefly before answering, “How about payment in kind?”
Evelyn’s eyes narrowed.
“Keep dreaming.”
“Then I suppose there’s only one option left.” Mark shrugged.
“What option?”
“Lend me another $1.4 million.”
Mark calmly raised one finger.
For several seconds, Evelyn simply stared at him as though she could not believe what she had heard.
“You already burned through almost twenty-five million dollars of my money, and now you want another one-point-four million? Do you genuinely think I’m stupid?”
“Of course not.” Mark quickly stood and pulled out the chair beside her.
“But this is practically our only option. Please sit down. Standing in heels for too long isn’t exactly good for circulation.”
Evelyn opened her mouth as though she wanted to curse him again, but after hearing the last sentence, she reconsidered and sat down with a cold expression.
Mark returned to his own chair, and the playful look on his face disappeared as he became serious.
“Ms. Parker, twenty-four million dollars isn’t something an ordinary person can repay through a salary. I could work around the clock for the rest of my life and still never clear that debt.”
He leaned forward slightly and met her eyes.
“There’s only one realistic way for me to repay money that was lost through movies.”
Evelyn remained silent.
“I earn it back through movies.”
A mocking smile appeared on her face.
“Let me understand this correctly. Your solution to losing my money on one movie is borrowing another one-point-four million dollars from me so you can make another one?”
“That’s right.”
“I have one question.” Evelyn leaned back in her chair and stared at him coldly.
“Where exactly did you find the courage to say something that shameless?”
“From you, obviously.” Mark smiled before continuing, “You come from one of the wealthiest families in the country. Losing twenty or thirty million dollars isn’t going to destroy you financially, or you never would’ve approved my project so easily. What really bothers you isn’t simply losing the money. It’s that you trusted me, and I rewarded that trust by giving Silverline one of its worst failures.”
Evelyn’s expression shifted slightly, but Mark continued before she could interrupt.
“I know I failed you, and apologizing isn’t going to put twenty-four million dollars back into Silverline’s accounts. The movie has already failed, and neither of us can change that now. The only useful thing left is finding a way to recover from it.”
He spread his hands and continued calmly, “You know my financial situation better than anyone. If I take normal directing jobs and slowly repay the company through a salary, I’ll probably be dead before the debt disappears. Give me one more chance and let me make another movie. I’ll earn the money back the same way I lost it.”
“What a joke.” Evelyn gave him a cold smile.
“You managed to lose nearly twenty-five million dollars on your last project. What makes you believe you can turn everything around with barely a million?”
“Nothing.”
Mark shrugged.
Evelyn frowned.
“I don’t have box-office results to prove anything, and after my last movie, I certainly don’t have the credibility to demand your trust,” Mark said.
“But it’s still the only practical option. Otherwise, go ahead and take my kidneys if you genuinely believe my body is somehow worth twenty-four million dollars.”
Evelyn stared at him for several long seconds before gritting her teeth.
“You’re shameless.”
Instead of becoming nervous, Mark smiled.
The moment she insulted him instead of immediately throwing him out of her office, he knew she had already reached a decision.
“I’ll give you two choices.” Evelyn raised two slender fingers.
“First, you sign a fifty-year exclusive contract with Silverline Pictures. During those fifty years, you receive only a basic salary, and whatever project the company assigns you, you accept without complaint.”
She lowered one finger.
“Second, I’ll give you another $700,000.”
Mark’s expression changed slightly.
“You use that money to make one movie,” Evelyn continued.
“If the film reaches $14 million at the box office, I’ll consider your original debt settled.”
Mark remained silent for several seconds before sighing.
What kind of choice was that?
Fifty years working under a contract that was practically servitude, or gambling everything on a single movie.
But Mark Anderson was no longer the same director who had lost nearly twenty-five million dollars.
Inside his head were movies from another world, including American horror films that apparently had never been made here.
Mark raised his head and looked directly at Evelyn.
“I choose the seven hundred thousand.”
Evelyn gave him a long look before nodding.
“Fine. Development will receive the authorization today. Don’t make me regret this.”
Mark stood, picked up his laptop bag, and headed toward the office door.
This time, he intended to make sure she didn’t.
(End of Chapter 1)