That night, Robert Bolton flew back to Hong Kong with Samuel Wood. Not long after landing, he received news that Douglas was willing to make a cameo as a favor. However, Douglas requested a share of the box office, which was firmly rejected by Mr. Bolton with a take-it-or-leave-it attitude.

Playing a down-and-out boss isn’t too difficult; there are plenty of actors in Hong Kong who could do it. If you want to join, I’m happy. If you want a piece of the pie, get lost.

At first, Douglas wasn’t happy about it, but later—perhaps after a chat with Donald Trump—he called back and agreed to take the role.

Three days later, through Samuel Wood’s introduction, Robert Bolton met with Vincent Carter at a nightclub. Everyone’s a businessman—if there’s money to be made, you invest in the film, I’ll show it in my theaters, and using my contract directors is no problem. But Vincent Carter made a sky-high demand for a ten percent cut of the box office from the theaters, and he was tough, refusing to budge.

This really frustrated Robert Bolton, but in the end, he figured that as a newcomer, he’d have to take a loss. He managed to push the theater share down to seven percent, and the two finally reached an agreement.

The negotiation cost Robert Bolton two bottles of Martell, and he got three club girls for free. During this, Big Howard even stormed out to call for backup in anger—if Robert Bolton hadn’t quickly stopped him, his gangster identity would have been exposed.

One reason Vincent Carter was willing to work with Robert Bolton was because the lead was Donald Trump. He’d already set his sights on Brother Frank—if Donald Trump’s movie was a hit, he planned to spend money to poach Brother Frank for Golden Harvest.

After that, Samuel Wood began preparing props, casting, and scouting locations… The first film project of Global DreamWorks after its founding, “A Better Tomorrow,” officially entered the preparation stage… It was expected to start shooting within a month…

In private, Samuel Wood admitted, “This movie is a challenge for me too!”

After making the rounds of several clubhouses and checking the accounts, Robert Bolton even made a special trip to the dressing room, only to find that none of the club girls were future Miss Hong Kong contestants, leaving him a bit disappointed.

Still, the quality of the club girls right now was excellent!

The small-time boss in charge of the clubhouses had even organized a “Hong Kong Beauties” contest, where every customer could vote after spending money. Later, Robert Bolton learned that Hong Kong brothels could even advertise in newspapers, and the Hong Kong romance tabloids came from this. Many street vendors sold them, with ads like “XX brothel, beautiful girls and great service,” “Miss XX, attentive service.” Looks like Dongguan culture really has a long history.

Robert Bolton didn’t remember the name of the clubhouse boss, since there were no Miss Hong Kong contestants there.

“Brother Ben, you’ve been busy hiring people to make movies lately and haven’t had time to manage the clubhouse. David the Friend has already urged us several times to send someone to pick up the goods.” At the Monica Bar on Temple Street, Big Howard, wearing a white T-shirt, handed over a glass of whiskey and said.

Robert Bolton leaned on the bar with both hands, took the whiskey, raised his head and took a sip, then asked, “Is David the Friend acting tough?”

“The money from the clubhouse accounts is in our own hands. Whether we go pick up the goods or not, it’s none of his damn business.”

Big Howard nodded, looked around, and shouted over the loud music in the nearly empty bar, “Brother Ben, you’re absolutely right! But lately, there have been a lot fewer customers at the clubhouses—there’s no goods for them to play with!”

“The brothers are really unhappy about it.”

Robert Bolton nodded, “I got it!”

In the underworld, you can’t just make money for yourself—you have to let your brothers get rich too. If you hog all the profits and don’t let them in, they’ll come after you with knives. Damn, being a gang boss is just too miserable. I have to bring down the clubhouse as soon as possible.

“Lights on!”

“Lights on!”

“Police inspection!” Just as Robert Bolton was thinking about how to use the clubhouse funds for a small business to keep his men happy, David Brooks walked in wearing a suit and badge, leading a team of twelve officers into the bar, holding up his badge and shouting loudly.

These Organized Crime officers knew the place well and moved in an orderly fashion, immediately turning on the lights and shutting off the music: “Men to the left, women to the right, don’t stick together!”

“Those in the restroom, separate now and come out!”

“Take out your IDs, don’t move around, or you won’t be going home tonight…” David Brooks brought two inspectors over to Robert Bolton, who was lightly tapping his glass and staring straight ahead at the bar, seemingly ignoring the officers’ voices and humming an unknown tune. Howard Thompson stood up to block David Brooks, looking down at him: “Mr. Brooks, don’t try anything funny.”

“Officer! I’m the person in charge here, the floor manager. If there’s anything, I’ll take responsibility.” Wayne rushed to the bar, determined to protect his idol.

But David Brooks looked at Robert Bolton’s back and smiled, “Big Howard, don’t worry, it’s just a routine inspection. Since Brother Ben took over, I haven’t come by to say hello. So today, I’m here just to say hi.”

“Brother Ben!”

“In a good mood, huh? That tune sounds nice.” Suddenly, David Brooks’s expression changed: “But if you try anything funny, I’ll have to invite you down to the station for a chat!”

When a new triad enforcer takes over, he must be brought to the local police station for detention once, as a warning to follow the rules. That’s how Organized Crime does things—David Brooks was here specifically to do just that.