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Chapter 180 - **Chapter 179: *Spider-Man* Strikes!**  

No doubt about it, the third weekend of June was the fiercest battleground in years! 

Mission: Impossible, The X-Men, Spider-Man, Chicken Run—four big films hitting theaters at once. In the icy grip of this economic downturn, it was the hottest movie market shake-up yet! 

First up was Mission: Impossible, dropping on June 21st. It rolled out in 3,089 theaters with a screen share peaking at 55%. 

But even with no competition from the other three heavyweights yet, it only pulled in $3.12 million on opening day. Talk about a jaw-dropper! 

Thanks to the recent PR nightmare, Disney and the analysts had already slashed their box office forecasts for Mission: Impossible. 

Still, $3.12 million on day one? That shocked the industry to its core! 

Everyone could practically smell a disaster brewing. 

Oh, scratch that—maybe two disasters: Mission: Impossible and The X-Men. 

Chicken Run, being an animated flick, didn't really compete for the same crowd as Spider-Man. 

Then, on June 22nd, Spider-Man swung in with a bang! 

Before it even hit screens, pre-sale tickets had reached 940,000—racking up a staggering $129 million in pre-sale revenue! 

For context, the old pre-sale record was set by Dunn's Titanic at $57 million. Just a year later, Dunn smashed his own record, more than tripling it! 

Dunn's Spider-Man ran 128 minutes, rated PG-13. On premiere day, it'd play twice in 39 theaters across the U.S.: 7:00–9:10 PM and 9:30–11:40 PM. 

The big premiere was set for the historic Vita Theater in L.A. 

Sure, pre-sales covered the whole weekend, but on premiere night alone, conservative estimates pegged the box office at least ten times Mission: Impossible's haul! 

For Dunn, the premiere was just a formality. He went all out not for himself, but to hype up the die-hard fans. 

Who doesn't want their idol to have killer connections and untouchable status in Hollywood? 

The celebrity guests at the premiere? That's the ultimate fan dream. 

And Dunn pulled strings—big time. The lineup that night was stacked! 

Directors? Steven Spielberg, James Cameron, George Lucas, Martin Scorsese, Luc Besson, Jonathan Demme, Sam Mendes, Peter Jackson, John Woo… 

Some couldn't make it, stuck shooting out of town. But that list? It was like an Oscar red carpet—dizzying! 

The actors? They sent the crowd into a screaming frenzy! 

Mel Gibson! 

Tom Hanks! 

Jim Carrey! 

Three of the five hottest superstars of the '90s showed up! 

Tom Hanks especially—he looked a little weathered. Word was, he'd just flown back from Europe two hours earlier, just for Spider-Man's premiere. 

Then came Leonardo DiCaprio, Keanu Reeves, Jackie Chan, Kevin Spacey, Pierce Brosnan, Ed Harris… 

And the actresses? Just as dazzling, just as star-studded. 

Aussie goddess Nicole Kidman! 

French queen Sophie Marceau! 

South African diamond Charlize Theron! 

British Oscar-winner Kate Winslet! 

Forever Catwoman Michelle Pfeiffer! 

… 

After that star-packed spectacle, a few Victoria's Secret supermodels from New York strutted in—tall, proud, leggy, and gorgeous—lighting the red carpet on fire and sending the crowd into absolute chaos. 

Dunn didn't join the cast for the final group appearance. It wasn't that he didn't want to—security wouldn't let him. 

Dunn was filthy rich now and always in some controversy's crosshairs, making him a walking target for a gunshot. Sure, the media had cleaned up his image for a while, but no one could deny he'd raided NASDAQ and landed on the Forbes list. 

Regular folks didn't care how it happened. But the investors who'd lost everything in NASDAQ? They were desperate—suicidal, even. Murder? Child's play to them. 

They were Dunn's biggest threat! 

He'd beefed up his bodyguard crew and set up a security team at Dunn Films, mostly to protect himself and his inner circle of ladies. 

Public red carpet gigs like this? Best to keep those to a minimum. 

Even presidents got shot on the street—imagine him! 

"Hey, Dunn!" 

Holding Natalie's hand, Dunn had just stepped into the theater's VIP lounge when a stunning woman sashayed over, hips swaying, a flirty smile on her face. 

Natalie's brow furrowed slightly. She whispered, "That's Charlize Theron." 

Dunn knew her, of course. He reached out warmly. "Miss Theron, glad you could make it to Spider-Man's premiere." 

"Dunn, you're too polite—call me Charlize," she said, flicking a glance at Natalie like she wasn't even there. Her lips curled. "I saw the guest list. A few models from New York, huh?" 

Dunn grinned. "Yeah, I've got some model friends." 

Charlize smirked inwardly. Friends? Just days ago, the tabloids spilled it: Dunn had hooked up with two Brazilian supermodels. 

Rumor had it, after heading back to New York, they'd moved into a swanky townhouse in Manhattan's BD district. 

Two rookie models affording a luxe pad in the heart of Manhattan, where real estate's worth its weight in gold? Word was, that place clocked in at least $25 million! And in that neighborhood, money alone doesn't cut it—you need clout. 

The subtext was obvious. 

Charlize played it cool, her smile teasing, her eyes lingering on Dunn. "I used to be a model too, you know." 

Dunn gave her curvy figure a once-over and nodded approvingly. "I can tell—you've got an amazing body." 

Natalie, sharp as ever, caught the vibe. She tugged Dunn's hand. "Spielberg's over there. Let's go say hi. Sorry, Miss Theron, we're pretty busy." 

Charlize's face stiffened, but she forced a smile. "Of course." 

Quick as a flash, she flipped open her purse, pulled out a card, and—ignoring Natalie's glare—slipped it into Dunn's jacket pocket. She winked with her left eye and mimed a "call me" gesture. 

Arm in arm with Dunn, Natalie muttered, "You need to tone it down—at least think about your image. These chicks are bold enough to flirt with you right in front of me. It's ridiculous." 

Dunn chuckled softly. "Don't worry. Once I move to that South Slope hilltop estate, the paparazzi won't see a thing." 

Natalie pouted. "Just handle it yourself—don't drag me into it! I don't want to show up at school and have everyone laughing at me." 

Dunn paused, then nodded seriously. "Got it. I'll be more careful." 

Over by Spielberg, the director was chatting warmly with an Asian filmmaker—John Woo. 

Since landing in Hollywood, John Woo had climbed fast and smooth. After nabbing final cut privileges and scoring hits, his rep soared. 

With Face/Off's huge success, he'd cemented himself as a top-tier director. His latest, Mission to Mars, dropped a month ago and sparked a viewing craze. 

So far, it had raked in $190 million in North America. By month's end, it'd likely crack $200 million. 

$200 million in North America? 

In 1996, only two films hit that mark. In '97 and '98, just three each year. In '99, four. 

A month-plus in and already there? That's a certified smash! 

Sure, global releases in places like Europe wouldn't hit until July, but Paramount and the analysts were already calling it: this movie was a goldmine! 

And John Woo? He was Hollywood's hottest ticket. 

Word was, multiple studios were lining up with offers. 

But… 

Ambitious directors have big dreams. 

After Mission to Mars, John Woo wanted to tackle an arthouse flick, with Clint Eastwood producing. They'd agreed, but the studio balked. 

John Woo? Stick to blockbusters! 

Then Dunn put in a word, and John took on Windtalkers, a $125 million gig. 

Now, with Mission to Mars killing it and offers pouring in, John—after four straight action flicks in Hollywood—wanted to switch gears. 

And he finally had the clout to say no. 

Spielberg being so chummy? He was clearly pitching John to direct an action flick for DreamWorks. 

Sure enough, as Dunn walked up, he caught Spielberg's earnest tone, inviting John to helm a project called Minority Report. 

"John, we've got a script outline already. If you're in, it's your show—hire the writers, shape the script. And, like before, you'd get final cut." 

Dunn stifled a laugh. Running a movie company sometimes meant swallowing your pride. 

Hard to picture Spielberg—back straight against Universal—tiptoeing around John Woo. 

And John? He turned it down flat. "Sorry, Steven, I'm planning to take a break. Or maybe… try a new genre. Action films—I'm kinda burned out." 

Then his eyes lit up, spotting Dunn. He shook his hand. "Early congrats on your box office win!" 

Dunn gave him a long look. "John, I get wanting to try something new as a director. But… no offense, I don't think it's the best move…" 

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