January 25.

  -The glory of a man! Since January 25, tech stocks have surged at an unpreted rate, igniting the Ameri ey for various reasons. The market was alive, remi of stantinople over 1200 years ago. Wall Street was bustling, just in time for Ronald Perelman to carry out his usual activities, using his intelligend business a to make the right move—but it turned out to be the wrong one for Marvel. This pany is still on the rise. It wasn’t the only pany, just the most defiant one, alongside a etics firm, digital camera manufacturer, and an iment fund—reiment upon reiment.

  In each of these panies, he stretched his money, and in some, like the digital camera pany and Marvel, he sold his shares as publids to different banks, paying a special price, almost 20% extra. He then pyed with that money iock market, dabbling in currencies, but the stocks grew so much that everything resolved itself in a truly remarkable way.

  -I didn’t think he would take that a, - remarked Staill mulling over his thoughts, feeling a bit foolish. The young Billy Carso him with a sense of doubt. Three out of three predis: the ic book bubble, the poor development of the pany, and that Ronald Perelman was never going to slow down. As Billy often said, Wall Street folks only get excited by the money in their hands and how much more they make. When they see what looks like a sure bet, they jump at it, with ation, often in ways so abstract it’s hard to foresee.

  -It's typical, sir... but wheime es, I'll buy all the shares. I’ll argue for a dispt in the board. For that and other reasons, I’ll make sure it bees ours, - Billy replied, having already formed an idea. As a former Marvel employee, he knew a lot about both Marvel and Dics history, after all, he once worked as a colorist—a poorly paid job at just 500 euros.

  -I'll get you all the data...- said Stan Lee. For him, gathering such timely records that filled him with fidence was easy.

  -Good, send me all the details, and be careful, especially with people trying to make a miracle catch—a catch that could be unfortable. But don’t worry. If there’s a tender, we just o know who they are or who is ied. We only he id animated lises for now. We egotiate those at a low cost or even free for the five years. Films and series are hard to pull off at the moment, but I’m not closing any doors. It’s better to let the whirlwind drown out the time, and when the opportunity arises, that’s when a pany will i all the capital its pockets hold, - Billy tinued.

  -Iing idea about the future of the pany. Will you keep your promises? - asked Stan Lee.

  -Just as we wrote them on paper, I’ll sign. The ic book creators will receive a pertage of the profits, up to 12%, along with 1% of other royalties for veteraors. The chts will belong to Marvel, as they always have,- Billy recalled, refereng what they had once signed. - I’ll also pensate all the authors who have worked with the pany for years.-

  Given that many authors felt ed, this was a tactic Stan Lee had suggested. However, ohe films hit theaters, they would face wsuits worth millions. Better to spend a small amount now with future profits in mind, ensuring a sustainable lifestyle.

  -I’ll do what’s necessary,- Stan Lee said.

  Billy sighed, grappling with the dilemma of acquiring somethiirely versus not receiving something in full—two very different things. But for the sake of the pany, he would make sure that ah future cims would be dealt with, regardless of whether they were justified. The biggest mistake would be to think it would never happen.

  - lenty of time to make things happen,- Billy remarked. - For now, let’s just focus on what’s done and what o be done. We need power. If the pany is in my hands, that’s when erform better.-

  -Very well, I believe that’s all for now, - respoan Lee, hanging up the phone. He g his surroundings—a quiet street, cars lined up in front of the sidewalk, surrounded by a hint of grandeur from the t corporate buildings. He was inside a small mattress shop, enveloped by rows of mattresses.

  In the grand scheme of things, Sta pletely outmatched. The fact that Billy had been right three times in a row was no longer a ce. Was he the Tony Stark of business, then? How ridiculous, yet the feeling of being outdone by something so small g him—a ridiculous notion he couldn’t shake from his mind.

  Outmatched, and utterly bnk, Stan fided in two old friends—friends who told him everything was too good to be true. But perhaps this was real, given the fidence Billy exuded. It was like searg blindly in a dark room full of bear traps—one wrong move, and the forest would hear your screams.

  ...

  -Mr. Carson, you have a se to shoot,- an assistant ented nearby.

  Billy rose from the table. The ses with Kim Basinger tihrough various takes—two pleted, with three more needed, followed by a major shootout. It was quite something, with a mix of emotional moments... fortunately, Billy didn’t feel particurly attracted to Kim, which made things easier. The ses were unnecessary in his opinion, but they were part of the job, especially with his stant traveling.

  ***

  INT. 1736 NOTTINGHAM (LYNN BRA'S) – BEDROOM – NIGHT

  Exhausted, Bud and Lynn y in bed. She traces a finger along his bicep while he stares at the ceiling, deep in thought. These ses are the toughest to shoot, often requiring the perfect lighting.

  BUD: Who was that guy that was here earlier?

  Lynn's fiops at a small white scar on Bud's shoulder.

  LYNN: Doesn't matter. All they want is Veronica Lake. You've got the real Lynn Margaret Bra... (re: scar) Where did this e from?

  BUD: When I was ten, my dad threw a bottle at my mom. I guess I got in the way.

  LYNN: So, you saved her.

  BUD: Yeah. But not for long.

  Bud looks away. Lynn senses he doesn’t want to talk about it.

  LYNN: Do you like being a cop, Bud?

  BUD: I used to. What I do now is strong-arm stuff. A walking target... No, I don’t like it. If I could work Homicide like a real detective...

  Lynn listens with empathy. Bud is opening up.

  BUD: Something's wrong with the Nite Owl. That idiot Exley shot the wrong guys. But they made him a hero, and whoever killed my partner is still out there.

  Frustrated, Bud taps his chest.

  BUD: I know it in here. But I 't prove it. I'm ive. I'm not smart enough. I'm just the guy they bring in to scare the uy.

  Bud looks away, ashamed of how much he's revealed. Lynn leans in aly turns his face back toward her.

  LYNN: You found Patchett. You found me. You're smart enough. Be a detective if that’s what you want.

  BUD: Just like that, huh?

  Lynn nods. Just like that.

  -Cut,- the director called.

  fortable and focused on a siter, Billy waited in bed as they prepared for the shot. Kim, still draped in a thin white sheet that barely cealed her body, observed silently as two other producers began discussing the se.

  -Do you have any idea why they’re arguing? -Billy asked, breaking the silehe blonde’s eyes, expressive with a bit of makeup, gave her a pletely different appearance from what he initially thought. Without it, her pale eyebrows blended into her skin, making her less intense.

  -Maybe I didn’t look sexy enough, or we made some weird faces. This often happens with ses like this—they like to make you repeat them with a bit of... curiosity,- Kim responded, still unsure, aware that the boom mic h above could hear everything.

  -Hahaha, it would be impossible for you to make an ugly face. I think it’s my fault,- Billy said.

  -Well, I have my bad moments sometimes. I tend to squint one eye and leave the other open. It’s pletely annoying,- Kim replied with a hint of grace, though so elegantly that it was hard to tell if it was true.

  -A man’s imperfe is not fully believing a woman when she says she’s feeling alone,- Billy said smoothly.

  ...