met free Page 88
Page 88
The person who gave his life for him in the cave had long since become one with him.
And Tony Stark also lost his own name in that instant.
He imprinted the rest of his life on a fiery symbol:
Iron Man.
158, 159 This time, our target is Stark Industries.
"At worst, I'll go and keep an eye on things myself, so that the butterfly effect doesn't happen and a single bullet kills Tony."
Hawke thought to himself.
Sigh, what kind of world is this? I actually have to be a babysitter for a man... It's only because you sacrificed yourself to save half the universe that I don't care about you!
"I'll let it go this time, but you still have to invite me next time you have a silver party."
Tony said seriously.
"Okay, okay, as long as you have the stamina, I'll definitely call you."
Hawke nodded perfunctorily.
If nothing unexpected happens, Tony will earn him hundreds of billions of dollars in the future. Not to mention throwing him a few lavish parties, he could even have ten beautiful women serving him every day.
After chatting with Hawke for about half an hour, Tony picked out a very beautiful blonde woman at the banquet, laughed heartily, hugged her, and walked out of the Four Seasons Hotel.
"It's time for me to go back."
Hawke downed the wine in his glass in one gulp.
He had originally planned to find a woman at the party and spend a wonderful night with her, but now that he knew Tony was going to Afghanistan, he had no interest in playing around with women anymore.
I need to go home and carefully plan how to maximize my own interests in this incident.
Otherwise, it would be a disservice to Tony's heart blooming in Afghanistan.
This person is my dearest friend, my brother... I need to pay more!
"You left without even saying goodbye to your owner? How rude of you!"
Anne Hearst caught a glimpse of Hawke leaving out of the corner of her eye and snorted inwardly.
……
At the hotel entrance, Ivanka, in her high heels, followed after them, her footsteps clicking.
"Wait a minute!"
Hawke stood still, waiting for Ivanka to come over.
"Didn't you even say goodbye when you left?"
Ivanka is a bit stingy.
"I saw you were busy, so I didn't want to bother you."
Hawke laughed.
"Humph!"
Ivanka snorted, rolled her eyes at him, and said:
"My dad told me to tell you to be extremely careful when cooperating with those people on Wall Street. They are the most venomous of snakes. They will do anything for money. Now that they see you have money, they are approaching you. They may very well team up to swindle you out of your money. So don't be too naive and let them cheat you."
"Okay, I understand. I'll be careful."
Hawke nodded.
He already knew about the ways of Wall Street. Although he had a physical way of dealing with it, Ivanka's reminder was a kind gesture, and he should accept it.
"in addition……"
Suddenly, Ivanka tiptoed and gently kissed Hawke on the lips, leaving a faint minty taste. She smiled like a fox who had stolen a bite:
"Don't forget, we've made up. Remember to come visit me whenever you have free time."
Hawke smiled, grabbed Ivanka's hand, pulled her tightly, and amidst her gasp of surprise, wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her moist red lips.
a long time.
They just let go.
They were kissing so hard their lips were sticky.
"Then you can stay home, take a bath, and wait for my favor!"
After saying this, Hawke released Ivanka, laughed heartily, and turned to leave.
"This guy... he talks about cars all the time."
Ivanka smiled as she watched Hawke's retreating figure.
"Haha, he seems pretty good at showing off!"
She's no longer a lovestruck young girl, but it seems like spending her life with someone like Hawke wouldn't be so bad.
Wise people do not fall in love, and the innocent will repeat the same mistakes.
Ivanka felt she was too rational and perhaps couldn't enjoy the joys of being in love like a young girl, but she felt that her relationship with Hawke was quite suitable.
A smart person doesn't need love. A relationship that makes you stupid will only make you look foolish. It's better to be down-to-earth than to be troubled by love.
Hawke drove home.
……
The next day.
The sky was filled with red clouds, radiating golden light. The red sun, like a furnace of boiling steel, burst forth, its golden light dazzling.
Cheon Song-yi was awakened from her sleep by Hawke.
When she woke up, she saw Hawke had placed the breakfast he had prepared on the food cart and pushed it over.
"Oppa, why are you suddenly being so nice to me?"
Cheon Song-yi blinked.
"What are you saying? I've always been very good to my women, okay?"
Hawke said:
"If you don't like it, then forget it."
Okay, to be honest, it's probably because Cheon Song-yi stayed with him for so many days, and their relationship got a little closer.
"Only a fool wouldn't like being served!"
Cheon Song-yi smiled.
She got out of bed, took a silk nightgown from the wardrobe, draped it over her shoulders, and walked barefoot into the bathroom to wash up.
After a while.
The two sat together eating breakfast: millet porridge, eggs, and small pan-fried buns. It wasn't a lavish meal, but it was filled with a warm and cozy atmosphere.
The two didn't say much, but chatted briefly while eating breakfast and looking at their phones.
"Hmm..." Cheon Song-yi bit her chopsticks, her eyes fixed on her phone screen, and asked, "Oppa, I've always been a little curious, why are there so many homeless people on the streets of America?"
“This is an interesting question…” Hawke thought for a moment, put down his chopsticks, and said, “How about I tell you a short story to help you understand it better?”
"Okay."
"A white-collar worker, earning over $10 a year, with a bright future. He marries a wife, they love each other dearly, buy a big house, a big car, and a dog; his wife finally starts having children, three in a row. He'll be raising the children for 4-5 years, planning to go back to work after they start daycare. After 30, his skin ages rapidly, his body is severely deformed after childbirth, and their sex life almost comes to a standstill. The white-collar worker goes to work. The woman stays at home feeling lonely. She decides to go to the gym to exercise and swim more."
"I met a Black trainer at the gym. He taught me personally, and we had a lot of physical contact. I got really into it. So I took him home and we had a deep conversation. After a while, I felt great; every now and then, things got heated. The office worker realized something was wrong. One time, she went home and caught him in the act. She caught him, but couldn't beat him; he ran away. He argued with the woman. The woman cried and promised not to do it again. For the time being, everything was fine."
"Unable to satisfy his insatiable desires, the old flame reignited. The white-collar worker discovered trouble again, and from then on, he became mentally unstable, his work performance plummeted. His boss said, 'You bastard, pack your things and get out.' He lost his job, and was in debt for the house and car. The woman filed for divorce. The court ruled that the three children, the house, and the car went to the woman. The dog went to the man. The white-collar worker paid $5 a month in child support to the woman and the three children. At first, the white-collar worker struggled, rented a place, found a low-paying job, barely made ends meet, and used the little money he had left each month to go to a bar to find someone to solve his problems."
"But one day when I came home to see the children, I found the woman and that black coach practicing their skills again in her old house. So I went up and hit them. Not only did I get beaten up, but the woman called the police, and the white-collar worker was handcuffed. The court ruled: he has violent tendencies and is prohibited from visiting. He is still required to pay child support. The white-collar worker completely broke down. He started drinking heavily every day and eventually lost his job."
"I was no longer able to work. One day I got sick, for several days or even half a month. Finally, I ran out of my last bit of physical and financial resources and ended up on the streets. I held up a sign and walked around asking parked cars for pocket money."
"..." Cheon Song-yi said speechlessly, "So this is the standard process for the formation of homeless people?"
“I wouldn’t say absolutely, but that’s true for a large portion of people,” Hawke shrugged and said. “America isn’t paradise. People at the bottom can easily go bankrupt and end up in a terrible situation.”
0 ······Requesting flowers···· ········
"Let's not talk about these unpleasant topics," Hawke said, taking a bite of a small fried bun. "The script for 'My Love from the Star' is almost finished, isn't it?"
“That’s right.” When Chun Song-yi got down to business, her eyes lit up, and a hint of heroism appeared between her brows. She said, “Courtney and the others are already looking for a director and other roles.”
“Yes, soon.” When talking about her professional field, Cheon Song-yi’s eyes lit up. “Kourtney and the others are looking for a director, and they’re also in talks for other roles. The script for the first ten episodes is basically finalized, and the core concepts are all set.” She paused, then looked at Hawke with a sly smile. “The biggest variable now is when you, Mr. Do Min-joon, will truly be able to ‘get into character’?”
"Me?" Hawke finished his fried bun, pulled out a tissue to wipe his mouth, and said, "Alien professor, don't be too clingy, just be more in control?"
“It’s been revised,” Cheon Song-yi nodded. “The screenwriter said that the professor’s demeanor is becoming more and more like yours. Aloof, distant, and occasionally… well, decisive?”
"That'll save you trouble," Hawke said casually. "And the director? Who have you got your eye on?"
“The initial choice is Martin Scorsese,” Chun Song-yi announced, observing Hawke’s reaction.
“Martin Scorsese?” Hawke raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised. “Filming aliens like us falling in love?” He chuckled and shook his head. “The style… isn’t it a bit of a mismatch? Let’s find someone with beautiful visuals who can make the romance look good.”
..... ..... ...
“Understood,” Chun Song-yi noted it down. “What about David Fincher? He’s fast-paced, has strong visual control, and his style is pretty cold. Maybe he can capture that Professor X’s feel?”
Hawke leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the table, seemingly considering the feasibility of the proposal.
After a while, he said, "Hmm... we can give it a try. The premise is that he has to understand that what we want is not a profound art film, but a drama that can become popular, a hit, and that people can't help but keep watching. Also," he looked up at Cheon Song-yi, emphasizing it with a sense of entitlement, "we have to film you to make you look good enough, every frame has to be pleasing to the eye. Promoting you is one of the main purposes."
Cheon Song-yi felt a warmth in her heart from his straightforward goal, and felt a little embarrassed, but mostly excited.
"Okay! I'll make the core requirements clear to Courtney." She then remembered the crucial question, "And your salary..."
"One dollar, didn't we agree on that before?" Hawke stood up, stretched, and walked to the huge French windows, his tone relaxed and casual. "The pay doesn't matter, as long as the movie is made. As for the money, we can earn it back elsewhere."
He was clearly referring to Ryan Entertainment's future revenue.
After finishing breakfast, Hawke dropped Cheon Song-yi off at Ryan Entertainment, then turned around and went to Ryan Capital himself.
It's time to start planning to short Stark Industries.