[Owen POV]
Jack Kennedy's office. I adorned the disguise again, becoming the almost two-meter-tall man with a strong arm and a Nordic, Viking-style, burly appearance with a touch of regality sprinkled in.
I came back to the office after wrapping filming for the day when Claire entered my office.
"I got an invitation from Victor D. Ambre?" I looked at the white piece of envelope with the red wax seal Claire gave me.
She nodded and said, "It seems to be a very important gathering. He even invited people from Hong Kong, Canada, Japan, the East Coast and more."
She sighed and said, "I didn't get the invitation even though I'm the CEO. I was disappointed at first, but then I found out from my contacts that he only invited people with true power."
I went silent for a bit, pushed my glasses up, and said, "I'll be there."
She grimaced and said, "Also, can you stop playing porn in your previous office? That poor intern who has to keep changing the tapes after it is done playing."
I chuckled a bit and said, "Just two more days."
The sigil would run out of power in two days so there's no more eavesdropping after that.
Before meeting Victor D. Ambre, I investigated what the meeting was about.
Then, I created multiple evil-warding talismans: charm-resisting wards, protective jades, an enchanted cross, a bunny-foot charm, and many more charms I knew.
…
The next day, I came to the Aureum Pictures company building. The meeting was highly secretive. We headed straight to the office from the basement.
Victor had kept his entire staff charmed by him, so no one dared to leak a word about the meeting.
I shared an elevator with New Line Cinema's owner, Robert Shaye.
The man smiled charmingly and shook my hand inside the elevator.
"Mr. Kennedy. I've been following your career. You have done a wonderful job in just eight months of creating your own distribution company."
"I still have a lot more to learn." I shook his hand back. At the same time, I used my puppetry skill to sneak my charm-resistance talisman into his back pocket.
We entered a big conference room.
Around it were representatives from the little companies that still called themselves "indie":
Aureum Pictures, my 4CLOVER, a sly man from Fine Line, a terse woman from Samuel Goldwyn's distribution arm, a younger exec from Trimark-style territory, and a delegation with an accent who said they handled Hong Kong circuits.
Golden Harvest's old guard and a rep who nodded for Media Asia. A couple of Canadian faces. People who handled Alliance-style releases and provincial chains lingered near the back.
I introduced myself to them and sat at the center of the seats, next to a man from Asia.
He spoke in Chinese with his translator from time to time. I approached him and began speaking to him in Chinese, which made him quite excited and slightly taken aback since he had been grumbling and cursing me out at the start.
"Where is D. Ambre?" Shaye asked the assistant.
"Is everyone here?" the woman replied monotonously.
She felt really familiar. She's just like the marionette demons… but how does she look human right now? I thought with amusement.
A minute later, Victor D. Ambre entered the conference room.
His eyes were sharp, his nose was pointy. He had long hair down to his waist. He wore a handcrafted Italian suit and a Rolex watch.
Victor stood at the head of the table like a conductor.
He seemed completely human. I couldn't sense anything wrong about him with my senses.
'Did I make a mistake?' I thought. 'Is he not a Greed incarnation? Or… is he already too skillful in hiding for me to notice?'
"Do you know why we're still called 'indie' even though we've distributed hits?" Victor asked without sitting.
No one answered. I kept my face neutral.
"The word describes where we sit in the market, not our ambition," he went on.
"The Big Six—the vertically integrated studios—own the pipelines. They own production, distribution, marketing muscle, and most importantly—screens and retail shelf space."
He continued, "They shut doors. They write the rules. They write the ratings code and lobby the government to make that code stick. They gamed the home-video window. They are a monopoly in practice if not in statute."
"You saw what happened to Miramax," he said. "Once a scrappy brand with global taste, it was swallowed because it tried to encroach on the VHS market share."
He turned to Shaye. "New Line stopped being simply New Line the moment it married cable and conglomerates. After that, its freedom to push risky titles narrowed."
Shaye shook his head slightly. It was too late for him.
"Artisan, Trimark, Samuel Goldwyn—each of you knows the trajectory. You grow, you get courted, you get squeezed, or you wither when a franchise or Disney blitz drowns you out—Isn't that right, Jack?"
He singled me out and smiled at me. I replied, "That's right. But we can't do anything about it. That's how it has worked since Hollywood was established."
Everyone agreed with me.
Victor smiled as if he were getting what he wanted. Well, I actually gave it to him to see what he wanted.
"That's right. But it's not the 1920s anymore. Before the Big Six, it was the Big Five. Sony climbed into the Big Six ranks, and then pulled the ladder from everyone."
He turned to New Line and said, "You were pushed out of the market first, before you decided to join them, right?"
Shaye sighed and said, "Yes. They used the MPAA rating to make my films unrated, which meant they couldn't go to more than ninety-five percent of the theaters in the country."
"The MPAA ratings and the exhibitor agreements—they're not neutral," Victor sighed, showing some sympathy to Shaye to humanize himself.
"If your film is 'unrated' or tagged problematic, most first-run theaters won't touch it."
A couple of workers came into the room bringing tea and snacks while Victor continued.
"The big chains have policies. No rating, limited screens. No screen time, no box office. No box office, no pay-TV deals. No pay-TV deals, no home-video shelf placement. Which meant we could invest in a movie and get almost nothing in return."
His anger made his energy leak a little, which proved my initial guess. He truly was a demonic being.
Some people drank the tea, and their eyes became dazed. However, the charm I had placed on them secretly managed to defend against the spell taking root in their psyche.
Victor realized it and furrowed his eyebrows a little. He continued on like nothing had happened.
"The reason I brought you all here today is to talk to you about the issue. What do you think we should do? Should we give up and be swallowed, or do we fight the system?" Victor asked.
"Is that, like, a genuine question or a rhetorical one and you have some strategy for it?" the Hong Kong distributor asked.
"Well," I began, "first of all, it's obvious — we need a more universal ratings code instead of the MPAA."
"YES! We definitely need that!" Victor stood up and agreed with me instantly. "How can we do that?" he asked.
I smiled faintly and adjusted my glasses.
"It's not impossible," I said with a sigh. None of what Victor said was untrue. Like everyone here, even 4CLOVER could be oppressed once we started to encroach on the big 6 profit margin.
Right now, my distribution company was at the 7th rank, directly under the big 6 for the market share distribution this year. Which made me very dangerous in their eyes.
Allies, even though they were demons, would be a good thing for me right now.
"The MPAA's authority isn't legal — it's contractual. It works because theaters, advertisers, and retailers agreed to honor its rating." I said casually.
Then, I looked at Victor and said seriously, "If we can build a ratings body that's credible enough and get theaters to recognize our seal, the MPAA loses its monopoly."
Victor narrowed his eyes, intrigued. The others leaned in.
"How can we do that?" The Hong Kong distributor asked.
"We'd need three things," I continued, raising a finger. "Legitimacy. Infrastructure. And coverage."
"Legitimacy first," I explained. "The MPAA's ratings board is made up of anonymous parents. That's why it's inconsistent."
"We can make ours more transparent — a council of film scholars, child psychologists, media researchers, and maybe even retired MPAA members who are willing to jump ship."
The Hong Kong representative chuckled. "Professors rating movies?"
"Yes," I said seriously.
"People who understand context . Not just count swear words and nudity frames. They'd issue a report with reasoning, not just a letter grade. That gives filmmakers leverage in marketing. We can quote it."
Everyone's eyes lit up as they heard it.
Victor crossed his arms. "Fine. That gives us credibility. But who'll listen to a bunch of academics?"
"Critics, journalists, and film schools," I said immediately. "Once that group starts quoting our seal as more artistically fair, the public perception shifts. Then we move to infrastructure."
I pointed toward the group. "You, Aureum Pictures. You, Fine Line. Samuel Goldwyn, Trimark, Alliance — each of you already have distribution routes."
They nodded and waited for me to continue patiently.
"If we pool a tiny fraction of our ad budgets, we can print a recognizable symbol — a golden triangle, or a clover seal, something that stands out and can be printed on the back of all our VHS or VCD boxes."
"Oh, if we did it all at the same time, it would be immediately established right?" Shaye asked.
Victor told him, "You already sold your company. You can't do it."
I interjected."Actually he can. And if he does it, it will boost the legitimacy too, since his tapes will show both MPAA rating and ours. Our films will open under… how about, Independent Ratings Council — IRC for short."
Victor's eyes gleamed. "Independent Ratings Council… I like that." Shaye also agreed with me.
I continued. "The IRC would review every film we release. We send them a copy, they issue a report, and stamp it with our own code. For example: A for All Audiences, P for Parental Guidance, T for Teen, R for Restricted. Universal terms that translate across countries, so foreign distributors can use it too."
The Canadian distributor nodded. "So theaters could say, 'Rated by IRC' instead of 'MPAA Approved'?"
"Exactly," I said. "And we start with independent chains — small theater circuits in college towns, art houses, foreign distributors. They're already tired of being bullied by the majors. Once they use the IRC rating for even a few successful films, the big circuits will be pressured to follow."
Victor leaned forward, smiling with satisfaction. "You're talking about creating an entirely parallel system."
"Yes," I said. "One they can't control, because it's built on credibility, not cash."
"And the government?" Victor asked, testing me. "The MPAA has Washington in its pocket."
"That's why we bring in academics," I replied smoothly. "Universities have grants, cultural status, and credibility. If the IRC presents itself as a research body on media literacy — not a business rival, we're untouchable. The politicians won't dare attack something that sounds like child-safety research."
The room murmured in approval.
"However, if they know we are trying to do this, the MPAA retaliation will be swift. Someone had to take the lead, someone who can be charismatic enough to charm the scholars and the ratings board." I added with a concerned expression.
Victor's grin widened. "I can do that."
I nodded, smiling in relief.
"So if we have our own rating system, will we be fine?" The Hong Kong distributor asked.
"Actually no." The Fine Line CEO finally spoke up.
Everyone turned towards him. "How much do you know about the DRM?" He asked.
The Fine Line CEO didn't have my resisting charm as I had limited of those. So he was truly within Victor's charm spell.
He said, "VCD came out this year, and one disk can play around 70 minutes of videos. Now, movie distribution is changing, especially internationally."
"People can't copy VCRs perfectly," the Fine Line CEO continued, his tone oddly smooth and distant under Victor's spell. "But they can with VCD. It's a clean digital mirror. Every copy is identical to the original. One cracked disc, and by morning, a thousand clones appear in the night market."
Everyone's expression darkened.
"Malaysia, the Philippines, Indonesia, Hong Kong—piracy is rampant," he said, his eyes glinting faintly under the demon's influence. "Even small theaters in those countries sometimes play bootlegs because the official prints are too expensive to import."
The Canadian rep grumbled. "So, basically, the moment our movies go overseas, we lose control."
"Exactly," said the Fine Line CEO. "And that's why the MPAA has been pushing something called digital rights management, or DRM. They've already lobbied the government to make it a mandatory feature for future optical formats."
Victor tilted his head. "DRM?"
"It's a digital lock," the Fine Line CEO explained, sounding as if he were reading off a report. "The idea is, every licensed movie disc has a code that only certified players can read."
"If you copy it, the code breaks, and the copy becomes unplayable. They want to embed it in all future media formats—DVDs, digital tapes, even future computer files."
The word DRM became a nightmarish existence to the distributors. However, there was something in the back of my mind trying to come out.
'Isn't DRM… Something that was cracked by a russian student who wants to watch movie on his LINUX os. He used his home computer to crack the lock, which made the DRM useless within 3 months… There's something else… what is it?'
I tried to remember it.
"That sounds… helpful?" said the Hong Kong distributor, uncertain.
"Only if you pay for the lock," said the Canadian distributor darkly.
The Fine Line CEO nodded. "That's where it gets ugly. The MPAA wants control of the certification. Any distributor who wants DRM protection has to register their catalog under the MPAA's 'approved encryption network.' And for that, they charge thirty percent of home-video profits."
There was a collective gasp. Even Victor's smile faltered slightly, as though he hadn't expected the number to be so high.
"Thirty percent?" someone repeated. "That's extortion."
"Exactly," the CEO said. "If you don't pay for certification, you can't get the DRM sticker. And if you don't get the sticker, Walmart, Best Buy, Target, and all the major American retailers won't stock your discs. They'll claim it's for consumer protection—'unsecured media risk'—but it's really just another gate to keep us out."
The Golden Harvest representative leaned back, grimacing. "So even if we fund our own distribution, even if we print our own discs, we can't sell them in major stores without paying tribute."
"Or worse," muttered the Samuel Goldwyn woman, "our films will be labeled 'unsafe' or 'pirated' even if they're not."
Victor chuckled quietly, spreading his hands like a preacher before a frightened congregation. "You see? They already own the theater, the ratings, and the press. Now they want to own the air itself — the right to copy."
Everyone fell silent.
I watched Victor carefully. His charm was thickening in the room, feeding on their fear and anger. His voice was smooth as oil now, persuasive and righteous.
"The MPAA has always been greedy," Victor said. "They devour what they can't control. First it was film, then ratings, now digital locks. They'll wrap chains around art and call it innovation."
His eyes gleamed faintly, golden for a brief moment. He was charming the people in the room, and they couldn't escape it, even with my charms.
In all honesty, Victor was the only person in the room who couldn't say anything about art. Since he stole movies from the producers using his charm after all.
I spoke up before he could go further. "Then we can't let them," I said evenly, drawing all eyes back to me. "If they're tightening the net, we'll just have to move outside it."
Victor turned his gaze toward me, smiling like a snake waiting for the mouse to reveal its next move.
"And how do you suggest we do that, Mr. Kennedy?" he asked, fully confident he was in control.
I adjusted my glasses again, my mind already calculating. "We can't beat them on the ground they own. Their argument is piracy, right? But I think there's something else."
"They will make different prices in different regions, and their locks treat customers like future criminals. People will hate that."
I finally remembered what the DRM did at this time.
"Customers will be able to watch the DVD only in their region. If they move, it will be locked again. And they can register it only with one device. If they bought a new CD player, they would have to pay for a new disk too."
I smiled slightly. "People are going to hate being inconvenienced—especially when they have to call a server, wait on hold for hours, just to watch a movie."
"So the DRM is flawed." Victor understood me.
I nodded and said, "Rather than cracking down on Piracy, they will encourage it. One thing I know for sure about the customer, they won't tolerate inconvenience."
"But without the DRM, the movie will get pirated, which means a loss of revenue." Shaye said.
I nodded and said, "I know a lab. Instead of putting locks on the video, he can put locks on disk copying. It's limiting the copies on the DVD, not taking away from the customer's experience."
"Customers can argue that since they bought it, they should be able to back it up." The Fine Line CEO tested me.
I replied, "Will DRM let them back it up?"
Everyone went silent.
"We need to change the people's mindset about it. Put out a slogan, 'Movies are Art. We enjoy painting, we don't copy them and resell them. Or something like that." I added.
"The main issue is to have the government acknowledge it." Victor said.
Everyone went silent for a while. Then, Victor grinned and said, "I think I can get them to."
We signed an NDA about the meeting today, and also signed a secret corporation contract for the IRC and the duplication lock method to take care of our own revenue.
…
Victor invited me into his office when everyone left.
"Jack. You're an intelligent man." He said. "It seems you know more about stuff than what you let on."
"I do know a bit." I replied vaguely.
He laughed and said, "Why don't you share a bit with me? In return, I will give you something interesting."
I shrugged and said, "You don't have to give me anything. I can give the future IRC president some benefits."
He grinned, showing his canines.
"What is it?" He asked.
"Do you know Titanic?" I said, leaning forward lazily.
"The project by James Cameroon which took 200 million to make? The newspaper said it is a surefire flop, and it will become like Cutthroat Island."
I shook my head and said, "No. It will make more than 2 billion worldwide."
Victor immediately leaned forward and shouted, "That's impossible!"
I shrugged and said, "That's what my analyst friend in the industry told me. And so far, he was never wrong."
Victor was silent for a while. Then, he asked, "Who's this analyst friend of yours?"
"That's a secret." I replied. Suddenly my phone rang. I picked it up and told Victor, "I'm sorry. I have to go now."
"Wait." he stopped me. Then, the marionette human pushed a trolley towards me.
"I'm someone who keeps my word." He grinned. "You especially have been helpful today. This is my token of appreciation for all of your strategies."
He gave me a bottle of wine and some dried herbs.
I picked it up politely and smiled at him, "Thank you. I'll enjoy it."
He scoffed and said, "You better."
I brought the wine to my car, and Micheal drove me home.
"Is he really a…" He trailed off. I nodded at him.
"Damn." Micheal cursed. "What did he give you?" He asked.
"Some poison." I told Micheal. "I think he wants me dead so as to swallow my company."
I licked my lips as I saw the collection of herbs and smelled the wine, that if mixed together, which made a deadly, untraceable poison.
"You wanted to use me. Instead, I will use you to fight off the big 6 monopoly." I muttered as my gaze turned sharp.
I smiled and said, "And after you win, I will go after you next."