"One-time buyout!" he raised his eyebrows and said, "Including TV rights."

Ronald deliberately gritted his teeth. "I want $300,000!"

Anthony burst out laughing, his smile full of mockery. "Young man, Sahara Entertainment is about to go bankrupt. No company will offer you a high price."

"Sahara Entertainment isn't bankrupt yet." Ronald replied blandly.

Anthony shrugged, as if he was listening to a joke, and said directly, "$150,000! Videotape and TV rights, one-time buyout! Don't waste any more of our time."

Ronald hesitated for a moment, then slowly said, "Alright, $150,000." He emphasized, "Your side needs to pay in full when signing the copyright transfer contract."

Anthony didn't care at all. "That's fine."

The negotiation ended, and both parties signed a preliminary agreement. The formal contract would have to wait until Blockbuster's review was approved.

According to Mary, deals worth just over a hundred thousand dollars like this rarely encounter any surprises.

For a giant like Blockbuster, a hundred thousand dollars is as small as it gets.

After leaving the Blockbuster branch, Ronald glanced back at the nameplate. The attitude of that Blockbuster buyer left him fuming inside, but he had nowhere to vent. Let alone Sahara Entertainment facing bankruptcy—even at its peak, Blockbuster never took them seriously.

The wealth and status of both sides were simply not on the same level.

Ronald became even more determined to push forward with his plan.

At this moment, Mary asked, "This money is the startup capital, right?"

Ronald smiled and said, "Without this operating fund, how could we attract investment?"

Mary reminded him, "According to the contract we signed with the distributor, New Line Cinema is entitled to fifteen percent of the copyright transfer fee."

Ronald had read the contract and naturally knew this. After thinking for a moment, he said, "Go through the proper channels to notify New Line Cinema, but delay the payment as long as possible."

Mary nodded, "Delaying for two months shouldn't be a problem."

Ronald sighed. Distributors are at the top of the Hollywood food chain.

Distribution companies not only take a cut from the box office, but also generally take a share of peripheral copyright income, usually ranging from ten to forty percent.

"Have you got the script ready?" Mary asked with concern.

Ronald nodded. "It's ready."

Now that he had the startup capital, he needed to present a convincing project, and the foundation of the project was the script.

Chapter 4: Arabs Save the Americans

Night had fallen, and the lights were blazing in an apartment in North Hollywood. Ronald sat in front of his laptop, his ten fingers tapping away at the keyboard.

"In 2029, America is thriving, the people live and work in peace, the crime rate continues to fall, and freedom and democracy have reached unprecedented heights."

"However, all of this is just a beautiful soap bubble."

Ronald was typing out the background setting for the script.

"In order to maintain this wonderful state, the U.S. government launched a program called 'The Purge,' to allow people to vent their negative emotions."

"The specific implementation of this program is: from 7:00 p.m. on March 21, 2029, to 7:00 a.m. on March 22, 2029, during these 12 hours, all crimes—including murder—are legal. And during these 12 hours, emergency services such as fire, ambulance, and rescue will all be suspended. So, during these twelve hours, all human activity can only rely on oneself."

By Hollywood standards, a movie that doesn't take a jab at the American government is definitely not a good movie.

This kind of superficial prosperity hiding dirty secrets is also a true reflection of the so-called beacon of democracy.

Most importantly, it caters to the tastes of those who dislike Americans.

For example, Arabs.

Although some countries in the Arab world are close to the U.S., Arabs in general don't like Americans—after all, the U.S. is the godfather of their mortal enemy.

To put it bluntly, choosing this horror film was for financing purposes.

For the sake of money, Ronald had absolutely no psychological burden about criticizing Americans, though he would control the degree.

The U.S. government has always been one of the main villains in Hollywood movies. Ronald had read quite a few research articles on this, and American audiences also enjoy seeing movies that criticize their own government.

This mentality is actually quite common—audiences love to see their own country's films take shots at their own government.

The horror film he was writing had a setting and main plot largely the same as the "The Purge" from his previous life, but since he needed to get financing from Arabs, there had to be important Arab or Arab-American characters.

A family of four as the protagonists? Ronald paused to think. That was clearly inappropriate.

Although this project was mainly to scam money... no, to raise funds, he also wanted to try to actually make it. If the four protagonists were all Arabs, forget about getting into theaters—even distribution companies probably wouldn't touch it.

This wasn't twenty years later, when having a minority transgender bisexual feminist could let you walk sideways in the entertainment industry.

Besides, making Arabs the protagonists would be too fake.

If he ran into someone who knew even a little about Hollywood, the moment they saw four Arabs as the leads, the trick would be exposed.

Even though the main purpose of this project was financing, the early operations had to be as real as possible.

Ronald quickly had an idea: what if the Arab character appeared as a savior?