Blackstone Code-Chapter 376: A Good Movie

As Lynch walked through the corridor, he heard Mr. Fox’s call. Fox smiled and approached him. Their female companions let go of their hands before the two men met, keeping a respectful distance.

Social etiquette can be complicated—you have to know what to do and when. A small mistake invites subtle ridicule. People rarely mock openly when someone loses face; instead, they pretend to care while secretly laughing at the mistake. It’s like the rule of not making noise while drinking soup—used to distinguish the refined from the uncultured. If someone slips up, the laughter is a condescending tolerance from the superior to the inferior.

After a brief embrace, they parted. Only Mr. Fox called Lynch “Lynch, my friend,” a street-style phrase he preferred, perhaps seeing Lynch as an important figure in his life, giving him a special title or token of remembrance.

Treating others, Fox acted normal.

“Looking great!” Lynch complimented, withdrawing his gaze from the woman beside Fox—a girl Lynch hadn’t seen before, likely in her twenties, though he wasn’t sure exactly.

Some women appear eternally young regardless of age, but this girl gave a contradictory impression—mature yet youthful. Her figure was excellent, matching the typical federal standard, and her outfit was daring.

This wasn’t Fox’s previous companion—he had changed partners, which was common in their line of work.

Their subtle interactions suggested a comfortable lifestyle. Fox was nearly fifty but maintained impressive fitness.

“Of course, I’m still young!” Fox said, introducing his companion—a woman who’d only acted in one adult film. For some reason, she had connected with Fox.

Choosing such a woman over a more traditional actress might be to avoid trouble. Mainstream actresses have genuine fans; any scandal could harm Fox and his son—breakups, etc.

Fox knew he couldn’t marry a girl young enough to be his daughter or younger than his son—that wouldn’t be fair to Fox Jr.. Nor could he share his wealth with women seeking benefits from him. So, he constantly changed companions—women he could dismiss at any time.

Fox led Lynch aside. “I’ve arranged what you asked and found the people. After the premiere, we’ll sit down and talk.”

Yesterday, Lynch had called, hoping Fox could bring a documentary director and one or two writers to discuss his new project—Federals in Nagaryll.

Fox had produced several films, and with Lynch’s name attached, he was a recognized producer. Getting directors and writers was just a phone call away.

After some small talk, they entered the theater. Fox had other guests to attend to.

As usual, Fox greeted guests outside, while Fox Jr. handled things inside. The father and son no longer showed signs of their rough past—no trace of their street upbringing.

Dressed well, confident among social elites, it was a reminder that money—especially clean money—is a powerful thing.

As time passed, the theater darkened. The big screen showed a single focused frame. People quieted; the movie was about to start.

Seconds later, total darkness fell. White letters appeared: Based on true events and a novel.

That line stirred a special feeling.

The opening was shaky shots of unclear branches whipping the lens. Someone ran wildly; heavy breathing filled the speakers.

Dynamic motion and wide-angle shots gave an immersive experience.

A leopard suddenly burst from the bushes behind, chasing fiercely—the deadly race between man and beast gripped everyone’s attention.

Lynch sensed the girl beside him grow tense, her breathing nearly silent.

After about ten seconds, the screen abruptly plunged into blackness.

This scene was the second act of Lynch’s adventure—the jungle peril. It told how he got lost in Nagaryll’s dense rainforest, discovered ruins, and returned to civilization. ꞦАℕőʙĘ𝙨

Though many experts doubted anyone could escape the jungle unaided, the book became a bestseller.

The ninety-five-minute film focused on survival struggles against nature and wildlife, with ruins woven into the story.

In the end, Lynch was forced into ancient ruins. After battles with traps and guardians, he escaped through underground waterways, drifting to a remote town.

A desperate rescue team found him. His archaeologist friend celebrated his survival but also discovered an antique Lynch had brought—a ring once worn by the legendary King Shupuayin.

That marked the film’s end.

After a brief pause, enthusiastic applause erupted. Regardless of critics, the audience was excited and eager for more.

Undoubtedly, Lynch’s unintended souvenir—the ring—would spark sequels. Perhaps a third and fourth, capturing all his Nagaryll adventures.

It was a successful film. James, the writing team, and director dropped the epic grandeur for faster, tighter pacing, quicker cuts, and more sensory stimulation.

No deep philosophies, just actors showing off their looks, muscles, and grand scenes.

The gripping ninety-five minutes was trimmed down from an original 130-minute cut, which included long educational segments. But James insisted on the final version, which Fox and his son approved.

A successful movie.

Lynch applauded, confident this film would succeed. While others chased long takes and art-house styles, this commercial tone would ignite the market.

Maybe it lacked depth, content, or awards, but box office success was its true validation.

Fox and his son, along with the creators, took the stage to applause. Lynch was invited up, the audience eager to hear from the subject.

Facing over a thousand viewers, Lynch glanced back at the now-dark screen. “He’s not as handsome as me!”

Laughter broke out instantly, even the lead actor chuckled. Lynch nodded, adding, “That’s a fact!”

The laughter grew louder, with others joining in agreement. It was true, after all—the film was “based on true events.”

Once the laughter died down, Lynch’s expression turned a bit more serious. “A great film. I wasn’t involved in the production; this is the first time I’ve seen it. But I have to say, it’s definitely a great film.”

“Faster pace, sharper color contrasts, stronger tension. I noticed that throughout the screening, no one left to use the restroom or fell asleep—that shows how captivating it was.”

“Of course, the most important part…” He paused, teasing, “Some will criticize me, but I still say this time, there was no preaching. It fully immersed me, letting me relive the adventure—though, admittedly, it was exaggerated.”

“It’s an excellent film because it has an excellent team: great director, writers, actors, and of course, the Fox family. It has all the elements of success…”

Lynch suddenly stopped and glanced at the host beside him. “Did I just steal your job?”

The host replied quickly, “Depends on whether they pay me!”