My teacher is Bruce Lee, who dominated Hollywood.

Chapter 53: 80x Chapter Report Rate

"How much is it exactly?" Bruce Lee urged the cryptic fat man anxiously.

Fred, his face flushed, grabbed the bottle, poured himself a full glass, and then filled the glasses of Andrew and Ridley, who could both drink.

"Just now, the distribution manager was about to go crazy." He raised his glass to the crowd:

"Although data from some theaters in certain regions hasn't been compiled yet, the current figures alone have already exceeded $10!"

"10 US dollars..." Andrew Morgan gasped.

It's simply unbelievable that a foreign film without any Hollywood stars could achieve this on its opening day.

Fred downed his drink in one gulp, the rich aroma of the liquor exploding in his throat, making him shudder involuntarily: "Once all the data is in place, the opening day box office should be between $12 and $15."

"Ladies and gentlemen, do you know what this means? Following typical Hollywood box office trends, this film will easily surpass $800 million at the box office!"

$800 million!

The total cost Warner paid for the buyout, plus all the promotional materials, was just over $10.

This is Warner's most cost-effective overseas acquisition in its half-century history.

As it turns out, the East is a gold mine containing boundless treasures.

"An 80x return on investment..." Ridley Scott exclaimed in surprise. As the director of Gossip Girl, this return on investment felt extremely unreal to him.

"Cheers!" Fred raised his glass again. Although it was a Shaw Brothers film, it represented a victory for the "kung fu film" genre.

Bruce Lee's face showed no trace of jealousy; instead, it radiated the arrogance of a kung fu king.

"If Shaw Brothers films can get Americans to spend $800 million, then when our 'Enter the Dragon' is released... how much will it gross?"

He stared intently at Ridley and Qin Han.

Ridley was infected by this arrogance, grabbed the script and slammed it on the table: "Bruce, I wish I could fly to Hong Kong right now!"

Looking at the excited crowd, Qin Han smiled but remained silent.

In its previous life, "The World's Number One Fist" earned an astonishing ten million US dollars at the North American box office thanks to Warner Bros.' powerful distribution network, and once topped the weekly box office charts.

The distributor of "The Big Boss" at the time was the National General Film Studio, which was practically a small workshop compared to the seven giants.

Because of competition in the "kung fu" genre, the company was later even protectively acquired by Warner Bros.

Even under these circumstances, "The Big Boss" still managed to rake in over $600 million at the box office thanks to its excellent quality and word-of-mouth.

This time, the game has changed.

Behind "The Big Boss" is Universal, which is on par with Warner Bros., or even better!

He was already looking forward to seeing how his mentor would perform in his Hollywood debut.

As night deepened, the noise subsided.

The guests went home, George was diligently clearing away the dishes, and Renee was wiping the table.

"George, Renee. I have a task for you two this weekend," Qin Han said with a smile to the brother and sister.

"What mission?" George looked up, a little black sesame paste still stuck to the corner of his mouth.

Qin Han took out a $10 bill and placed it on the table: "When Saturday comes, you guys go to the cinema to see 'The World's Number One Fist'."

"I need you to tell me, in your most direct and honest opinion, what you, as American viewers, find appealing and what you don't like about it."

"Really?" George excitedly grabbed the money. "Free movies? That's awesome! So many people at school are talking about that red hand!"

Renee, on the other hand, seemed much calmer. She looked at Qin Han with some confusion: "Qin, what about you? Aren't you coming with us to see how strong our opponents are?"

"I have a more important place to go on Saturday." Qin Han looked out the window, towards Santa Monica Beach.

"That day, the boxing match on the beach officially began. I had to go and see for myself how skilled that Japanese guy really was."

……

Across the Atlantic Ocean, in Europe.

Breda, North Brabant Province, Netherlands.

The damp, cold sea breeze crept into her collar, making Rona shiver.

"Damn this weather," she muttered under her breath.

The female reporter had just stepped off the plane in Amsterdam when she began to miss the warmth of Los Angeles.

But thinking about the shocking secret that fat man might be hiding, she remained determined: if she didn't dig out some dirt, she would have just been freezing for nothing.

Before setting off, Lorna first called Peter to confirm that although Colonel Parker had a photo with President Lyndon, they didn't have much of a personal relationship.

That photo was taken when Lyndon was still a member of parliament, at a campaign rally.

She then searched through all the information she could find and discovered that the earliest record of Parker was from 1929, when he joined the U.S. Army.

Further back, there is no information to prove that such a person ever existed in the United States.

The information about his hometown that he used to enlist in the army, West Virginia, was a hub for Dutch illegal immigrants, which coincided with Qin Han's guess.

Breda was a major port for smuggling people from the Netherlands to the United States.

The female reporter wrapped her coat tighter around herself and looked up.

The old building in front of me is the police station in Breda, and it looks rather desolate in the cold wind.

Pushing open the door, I saw an elderly police officer with gray hair sitting at the front desk, wearing reading glasses and flipping through a newspaper.

Hearing the noise, he lazily raised his eyelids—the woman in black in front of him was clearly not a local resident.

"Ma'am, if you've lost your passport, please go to the window on the left."

He spoke in heavily accented English.

Luo Na's heart skipped a beat: Just like Qin Han said, the accent was exactly the same.

She took off her sunglasses, her sharp eyes staring directly at the old police officer, and pulled a black leather wallet from her handbag, revealing its contents.

It was a finely crafted gold badge with an American eagle design and the words "United States Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS)" engraved below.

This was a "prop" she had painstakingly acquired; in Europe, it was enough to scare some unsophisticated local police officers.

"I am Lorna Davis, a special investigator for the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services, and I am investigating a major federal case involving transnational human smuggling and identity fraud."

The veteran officer paused for a moment, his gaze shifting back and forth between the badge and Rona's cold, stern face.

The U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement? Coming all the way to a small Dutch town to investigate a case?

"This...this is the Netherlands, ma'am." He took off his reading glasses, his tone becoming slightly more polite, but still tinged with doubt: "You don't have law enforcement authority."

"I'm not here to enforce the law, sir." Lorna placed her arms on the table, looking down at the elderly officer with an imposing presence.

"I've been here for two days and have asked around the neighborhood quite a bit. Around 45 years ago, that is, around 1929, did something happen here?"

"1929?" the old police officer muttered, as old memories surfaced in his mind:

"I remember now! There was a murder near the dock, followed by a disappearance."

"Both cases were handled by my superior... but in the end, he found nothing."

Oh? I didn't expect there really was a story behind it! Lorna immediately raised her eyebrows:

"Listen, there's more to these two cases than meets the eye."

"Before I take this to the International Court of Justice in The Hague, you'd better let me see your case file."