They were neither friends nor relatives of Duke, and neither multi-million-dollar investments nor his overly young qualifications could overcome these hard obstacles. Even if Duke talked until he was blue in the face, these people would never be willing to risk such a huge sum of money on a director with no successful directing experience.

Aside from producers and production companies, Duke had one more option: seeking investment from banks or foundations. Although Hollywood film investment funds in this era were not as numerous as they would be in the future, there were still a few.

In Malibu, Duke finally managed to meet a manager from a film fund.

“Produced two experimental films, graduated with straight A’s from CalArts’ Film and Video program—none of that proves anything...”

This was about all the credentials Duke could present, and it was clearly not enough to impress the AUG Film Fund.

Although the big companies in Hollywood often used tricks like false accounting and underreporting box office numbers to swindle these investors—because they had the power to do so—Duke obviously did not have what it took to extract large sums from these vampires.

After nearly ten days into July, having hit a wall everywhere, Duke had no choice but to prepare to take the path he had reserved from the very beginning—the one with slightly better odds: to seek out his mother’s close friend, the world-renowned George Lucas in Hollywood and beyond.

Duke truly wanted to earn his opportunity through his own abilities, but he was not inflexible. Using every advantageous condition to create a chance for success was nothing to be ashamed of.

Of course, he regarded this as his last backup plan.

The previous companies or producers would not give him much time. Even if Duke made some preparations, he had no room to put them into action. Meeting George Lucas was different; Duke did not plan to go to Lucasfilm, but directly to Lucas’s estate on the outskirts of San Francisco.

Before going, besides the script, Duke also planned to shoot a short video.

This was a film whose main plot would take place in a car, so naturally, what Duke shot was related to cars.

He found his sixteen-millimeter camera in the storage room, bought film with his credit card, and had the worker who came every week to mow the lawn act as the driver. They drove several times along the empty Santa Monica coastal highway. He filmed a few times from the passenger seat and outside the car, and after half a day, he basically had what he needed.

While Duke was editing the footage, muting the sound and adding a heavy metal soundtrack before transferring it to videotape, an informal meeting about his script was quietly taking place in the CEO’s office at Warner Bros.

“Kevin, I think the script for ‘Speed’ has a certain degree of feasibility.”

The speaker was Jeff Robinov, whom Duke had met before. He made a suggestion to CEO Kevin Tsuahara, who was sitting in a large office chair: “If we can capture the thrill and excitement shown in the script, as well as the race against time and death...”

“Jeff...” Kevin Tsuahara raised his hand to stop Jeff Robinov, then looked at his assistant beside him. “Robert, what’s your opinion?”

With significant influence, Robert Solomon rested his arms on the chair’s armrests, his hand supporting his chin. After thinking seriously for a moment, he said slowly, “There’s something you should consider: Duke Rosenberg used to be a signed artist at CAA, but was dropped by CAA just this year. You know how those people at CAA operate—if he had any potential at all, they would never have let him go.”

“And...” He moved his hand away and tapped the script on the desk. “Investing tens of millions of dollars in the work of someone with no credentials at all is definitely not a wise move!”

At this point, he emphasized, “Don’t forget, he’s also asking for the director’s position! A twenty-one-year-old who’s never shot any official film—ha...”

As Executive Vice President, Robert Solomon’s opinion was very clear and carried more weight than Jeff Robinov’s. Jeff Robinov did not insist either; after all, from a practical standpoint, the risk was indeed quite high.

“I see.”

CEO Kevin Tsuahara thought for a few minutes. “Let’s put this script on hold for now and file it in the script library.”

Just as Duke entered the Lucas estate, he had no idea that an opportunity had just slipped past him during a discussion among several Warner Bros. executives.

After parking the car, Duke greeted the people at the Lucas estate with familiarity. Although he had come here less often in recent years, before entering college, he had been a regular visitor.

Perhaps because Lucas’s children were away traveling, the estate was unusually quiet. Duke walked around the fountain and entered the spacious living room. There were few people here—only George Lucas was waiting for him, sitting in a low-backed chair.

“Uncle George...”

After greeting him politely, Duke put his bag on the small table in front of him. Once he sat down, George Lucas looked at him with great interest. “Why aren’t you calling me George anymore?”

Duke smiled slightly and didn’t respond. In the past, he could act like a child, but now, of course, he couldn’t do that anymore.

“Just like before, call me George.”