A middle-aged man's voice sounded from behind. Duke knew clearly that this was CAA's earliest of the five giants, now one of Hollywood's most powerful figures, Martin Bob. The other party didn't need to care that he hadn't gone far, didn't need to care that he would be overheard. "I originally thought he had some potential, but in CAA's evaluation of its artists this year, his ability was rated D, and his potential was E. He's someone CAA has given up on."

Even without turning around, Duke could guess Tim Fisher's expression. Someone abandoned by the now all-powerful CAA—what future could he possibly have in Hollywood?

Resisting the urge to look back, Duke only slightly turned his head to glance at the Fox Building when he rounded the corner. He happened to see Tim Fisher, after sending off the two agents from CAA, casually hand the script to a passing staff member, then turn and enter the Fox Building without looking back.

Actually, this wasn't surprising, was it?

Starting up his second-hand Ford, Duke turned the steering wheel and slowly drove out of the parking lot. Big shots all need to save face, and in public they need to show that they value talent. After Lovett's words, what Tim Fisher said was just empty pleasantries—after all, he didn't even bother to ask for his name or contact information.

Perhaps the other party didn't have the direct authority to greenlight a film, but vetoing a script was hardly difficult.

Leaving the bounds of Beverly Hills, Duke found a random place for lunch, then set out again. Failure couldn't discourage him; it only made him more tenacious.

This time, his destination was Burbank. As the car entered the city, it didn't take much effort to find the iconic Warner Building. After inquiring at the front desk, he took the elevator up to the Warner Bros. office floor.

Perhaps it was God's favor—when Duke went to submit his script, he actually ran into Jeff Robinov, the Warner Bros. executive in charge of film. This Eastern European Jewish man, after hearing his brief self-introduction, perhaps out of a sense of kinship, gave Duke five minutes.

"...A bus rigged with a bomb by a criminal is speeding through the city. If its speed drops below 50 miles per hour, the bomb will explode. There are many innocent passengers on board, a substitute female driver, and a cop chosen by the criminal to join the game..."

Five minutes isn't short, but it's not long either. Duke simply outlined the main idea of the script and his desire to become a director.

This slightly balding, middle-aged Jewish man adjusted his glasses, leaned back in his office chair, looked at Duke standing beside him, and asked, "If I understand correctly, young Mr. Rosenberg, you... want to direct your own script?"

"Yes." Duke nodded seriously.

Chapter 5: Dawn Breaks

As expected, Duke walked out of the Warner Building with his hopes dashed but his fighting spirit undiminished. Even though he hit wall after wall in a single day, nothing could stop him from chasing that slim chance.

This is a circle that values connections, credentials, and proven success. In these respects, Duke's resume was almost a complete blank. If he had a film with a million-dollar box office—or even a hundred thousand—under his belt, the treatment he'd receive from film companies would be completely different.

Unfortunately, the hardest part of entering this circle is the first step. In Hollywood, opportunity often matters more than talent.

Opportunities are created and fought for through hard work. If you don't strive, opportunity will never appear.

In the following ten-plus days, Duke was like a tireless Spartan, going in and out of film companies all over Greater Los Angeles. Paramount, Disney, MGM, Universal Pictures, Sony Columbia—these top-tier studios all saw his footprints. Second-tier companies like New Line and Carolco, as well as the up-and-coming Miramax's Los Angeles office, also witnessed his busy figure.

During this brief yet seemingly endless period, Duke sent out copy after copy of his script and received countless rejections. He crashed and bled in Hollywood, but never backed down!

After visiting all the larger film companies, he temporarily stopped seeking opportunities from studios. There was no point in approaching the tiny film workshops—they didn't have the resources to invest in a film of this scale, nor the channels to raise ten million dollars. They simply wouldn't make a film with such a relatively high budget.

In July, as everyone marveled at James Cameron's "Terminator 2," Duke began trying every way to get close to famous producers. He pestered people like Jerry Bruckheimer, the Kathleen Kennedy couple, Jon Landau, Anne Spielberg, and others, but the answer was still rejection.

Not every company and producer dismissed the script. Paramount and Jerry Bruckheimer thought the script was interesting and showed some interest, but they shook their heads at Duke's request to direct.

Even when Duke offered to sell them the script for a symbolic one dollar in exchange for the chance to direct, the answer was still no.