"I'm not saying that." The receptionist gave a slight apologetic smile. "It's just that you look so young."

With a sigh in his heart, Duke could only admit to himself that it was just as he expected—his age and lack of experience were indeed major obstacles.

"Could you help me make a phone call?" he asked again.

"This..."

Seeing her hesitation, Duke immediately put on a sincere expression, just like any young person eager for an opportunity.

"I can contact Mr. Fisher's secretary's desk for you."

It had to be said, Duke's earnest and handsome face worked its magic—the receptionist quickly dialed a number, spoke a few words, and then hung up.

"Sorry, sir..."

"Duke, you can call me Duke."

"Alright, Duke, Mr. Fisher doesn't have time right now. You can submit your script directly to the editorial department on the seventh floor. There will be someone to handle it."

"Thank you!"

Duke said this with genuine gratitude. After all, they were strangers, and she couldn't be expected to do more.

Taking the elevator to the seventh floor, Duke asked around a bit and soon found an office—this was the department at 20th Century Fox dedicated to receiving script submissions. To put it mildly, they received hundreds of scripts here every month.

"Speed?"

A man in his thirties received Duke, took the copy, and handed over a form. "Leave your name, phone number, address, and email. If there's any news, we'll contact you as soon as possible."

"Thank you..."

Picking up a carbon pen, Duke quickly filled out the form and handed it back. The man glanced at it, slipped it into the script, and casually placed it on a nearby filing cabinet.

Duke watched all of this, especially the thick stacks piled on the cabinet like small mountains—obviously all scripts waiting to be reviewed, some even gathering a fair amount of dust.

He didn't bring up the director issue; talking to employees at this level would be pointless. Judging by the scene, the chances of 20th Century Fox actually picking up a script... well, he didn't hold out much hope.

In less than ten minutes, the kind of reception that film companies repeat countless times each month was over. Though he felt unwilling and wanted to meet someone with more authority at Fox, Duke knew that, with his connections, it was almost impossible.

Back in the lobby on the first floor, Duke waved to the receptionist from earlier but didn't leave. Instead, he went to a lounge area on one side of the lobby, found a spot where he could see the elevator entrance, and sat down to wait patiently.

Success has never been easy, especially for a nobody like him. He had waited for opportunities before and had plenty of patience.

He waited until nearly noon, when Duke's sharp gaze caught three figures just coming out. The one walking closest to him, almost completely blocking the others, looked extremely similar to Tim Fisher as seen in the newspapers—it should be him.

Taking the script from his bag, Duke walked over without hesitation, but didn't immediately rush up. Instead, he followed behind them out of the Fox building.

"Duke?"

Just as he stepped outside, a very familiar voice called out, "What are you doing here?"

Hearing this, Duke, whose eyes had been fixed on Tim Fisher, turned slightly and realized that the one furthest from him among the three was actually his agent, Lovett.

Ah... no, he should say former agent—their contract had expired back in May.

Nodding slightly in that direction, Duke moved to stand in front of Tim Fisher.

"Sorry to bother you, Mr. Fisher." He spoke quickly but politely. "I have a script here. Please take a look."

Perhaps used to this kind of situation, Tim Fisher wasn't surprised. He raised a hand to stop the approaching security guard, took the script from Duke, and turned to the other side. "Lovett, is he from CAA?"

"Mr. Fisher, Mr. Bob."

Standing on the outside, Lovett respectfully said to Tim Fisher and the man in the middle, Martin Bob, "He used to be my signed actor. After the contract expired in May, the company didn't renew with him."

The meaning was clear—CAA didn't think much of Duke and had let him go.

"An actor? Not renewed?"

Tim Fisher frowned, his hand pausing just as he was about to flip through the script. "Duke, right? I'll take your script. If there's any issue, someone will contact you."

With that, he waved his hand, stopping Duke from saying anything further.

Duke wasn't stupid. He knew that if he kept pestering, the security guards would definitely come over. He politely said, "Thank you," and turned to leave.

"Is this the kid from the Rosenberg family?"