Even though David's price inquiry would take some time to yield concrete results, and Michael couldn't immediately determine the final cost of arming two light infantry companies, he knew one thing for certain: it would be anything but cheap. Likely, after purchasing this batch of weaponry, he'd be fortunate if half the fortune from the diamond jewelry sale remained.
The problem was, facing a post-apocalyptic world teetering on the brink of total chaos, these acquisitions were absolutely essential. Michael even suspected that light arms for two companies might ultimately prove insufficient. Thus, after watching his net worth instantly halve, all he could do was silently pull out his phone and open the "Shake-What" short video app. He intended to upload a few promotional videos first and then attempt to secure some endorsement deals. After all, with the waitresses' skyrocketing popularity, the fee for a single promotional post had risen to three hundred thousand RMB. That sum could buy over a hundred tons of rice, enough to feed over ten thousand people for nearly half a month.
But upon opening the app and entering the private message interface, Michael was instantly dumbfounded. Among the long list of unread messages, the top one—an official notification—stood out starkly: "Dear User, we have received a complaint regarding copyright infringement in the background music of your last video. According to platform regulations, your account has been suspended. If you have any questions, please contact customer service."
'Infringement? Suspended?' Seeing these words, Michael was momentarily confused before the reality hit him: Damn it! My account's been banned!
In a panic, he quickly contacted the "Shake-What" customer service. After some back-and-forth, he finally understood the situation.
Some time ago, the famous international director Steven from the US had launched a global campaign to select a theme song for his sci-fi epic "Doomsday Gate," offering a ten-million-dollar bounty. A song titled "Doomsday," purportedly originally composed by an established singer, had captivated Steven, leading him to end the campaign early. The previously unknown singer instantly gained global fame.
However, just two hours after this news broke, the platform received a transoceanic lawyer's letter from the singer's Korean agency, alleging that the background music in Michael's videos infringed their copyright. The platform's response was to promptly suspend Michael's account with its millions of followers.
"Does that woman have no shame?!" Michael fumed after listening to the "selected" song on the film's website. The lyrics and composition were identical to the music from his USB drives, though the original singer's rendition was far superior. It was blatant plagiarism. The thought of losing ten million dollars—funds that could have purchased vast supplies and modern weapons—made his heart ache with frustration.
Enraged, Michael swiftly sent an email to the film's production company, claiming he was the original creator and attaching the authentic music file. Astonishingly, he received a reply within half an hour, despite the time difference. The response stated that the Korean agency held legally registered copyrights in multiple regions and dismissed his claims, threatening legal action for defamation.
Slapping his own forehead in annoyance, Michael realized his critical error: he had forgotten about copyright registration. Pursuing this further was pointless and risked exposing his own secrets. Yet, the injustice gnawed at him. Fueled by indignation and a desire for retribution, he decided on an impulsive course of action: he would create his own, genuinely authentic post-apocalyptic footage to counter their "brainstormed" movie, releasing it for free online when their film premiered, complete with a dozen original songs to highlight the truth.
He immediately messaged the already overwhelmed Xiao Dao: "Find me a used professional digital camera, budget under one hundred thousand."
This interlude concluded, Michael refocused his energy on the pressing procurement tasks. Amidst busy, his phone rang again. It was A'Juan, the used car dealership owner. Seeing her number reminded him of the need for large trucks. Short on funds, he made her an impulsive job offer as a department manager. To his surprise, after a brief hesitation, she readily agreed. Just like that, another department was added to his burgeoning "Cinder Town Trading Company."