Mace Newfield picked up the phone with crisp, decisive movents, not dragging even a second. Tom Kalinske unconsciously held his breath, his eyes wide like copper bells, staring fixedly at the beige telephone as if he could beam his will straight to Maryland through sheer concentration.
The call connected.
"It's , Mace." Newfield leaned back against the sofa, his tone returning to that producer's sense of command. "I need to speak with Tom Clancy's agent about sothing."
The person on the other end seed to say sothing, and Mace's brows twitched ever so slightly.
"It's not about the movie," he said, glancing at Takuya with a hint of amusent in his voice. "It's Sega—yes, that Sega, the one that makes video gas. They want to talk to Tom. No, not about a movie adaptation. They want to turn Tom's entire world into a ga."
The reception room went so quiet that Tom Kalinske's swallow could be heard clearly.
Listening to the reply from the other side, Mace's expression beca strange. He covered the receiver and looked at Takuya. "He's asking whether you toy-makers know what a 'Christmas turkey' is."
It was slang—referring to the lousy gas rushed out before Christmas just to make a quick buck.
Tom Kalinske's face flushed instantly. It was naked contempt.
Takuya, however, remained calm. He leaned forward, his voice not loud but steady and clear. "Mr. Newfield, please tell him that we don't want to be that turkey. We are ga industry professionals—and we still rember very clearly what Atari did after the release of E.T. We won't let sothing like that happen again. It would be a disaster for us."
Mace Newfield froze for a mont. When he looked at Takuya, there was true appreciation in his eyes for the first ti.
He uncovered the receiver and repeated Takuya's words verbatim.
The other side went silent for a long ti.
Long enough that sweat began to bead on Tom Kalinske's forehead as he fidgeted restlessly on the sofa, making faint scratching noises as he shifted positions.
"Next Wednesday, 2 p.m." Newfield's voice suddenly broke the stale air. "He'll see you for half an hour. I'll have Bernard give you the address. Don't be late. And don't waste his ti."
Then he hung up with a sharp click—swift and clean.
After setting down the phone, Newfield turned to Takuya. "Kid, I need to warn you. Clancy is an old-school hardliner. He barely tolerates us film people—always afraid we can't capture the essence of his novels and will just blow everything up with popcorn. As for you guys…"
He paused, glancing at the excited Tom, then back at the composed Takuya. The smile at his lips deepened.
"In his eyes, you might not even qualify as shallow. At best, you're unserious hustlers trying to use his na to trick pocket money out of children."
"We'll prove ourselves!" Tom imdiately puffed his chest with determination.
"I'm looking forward to it." Mace stood up and adjusted his suit. "No need for thanks—consider it Bernard's goodwill. And also… a bit of my personal curiosity. I want to see what tricks you can pull out of that stubborn Maryland man."
He nodded to the three of them—a clear sign the eting was over.
Once they passed through Paramount's iconic gate and stepped outside, Bernard finally released the tension in his shoulders.
"I really thought Clancy's agent was going to hang up on us and call us scamrs!" Bernard clutched his chest dramatically. "Takuya, when you ntioned Atari, I swear—Newfield's eyes changed."
He rubbed his hands excitedly, cheeks still flushed. "We did it! Another one! John Hughes, Spielberg, Clancy! My God, are we going to sweep all of Hollywood?"
"Bernard, all we got was a eting," Takuya replied calmly, gazing out the window. "And he clearly doesn't think highly of us."
"That's still better than nothing!" Tom waved dismissively. "As long as we get to sit down and talk, I'm confident!"
Takuya smiled faintly beside him but said nothing. He knew very well—if it hadn't been for Takuya's perfectly tid "Atari disaster," they wouldn't even have gotten the chance to speak. The other side would have hung up imdiately.
This young man always managed to say the right thing at the most crucial mont.
When they returned to the hotel, just as Bernard was about to head back to his room, Takuya stopped him.
"Bernard, do you have ti tomorrow? I want to visit a place."
"Of course, sir. Where to?"
"Industrial Light & Magic."
Bernard froze mid-step, turning to Takuya with surprise.
ILM wasn't a tourist spot—it was the special-effects holy land created by George Lucas, the true technological heart of Hollywood.
"No problem. I'll arrange it," Bernard replied.
On the fourth day, when their car rolled into a complex that looked more like a tech park than a film studio, Tom Kalinske was still a little confused.
There was none of Paramount's grandeur, none of Hollywood Boulevard's flashiness—just simple industrial buildings.
"This is Industrial Light & Magic?" Tom craned his neck. "It looks… like a university engineering departnt."
"The real treasures are always hidden in the toy box," Takuya said with a smile.
Bernard guided them into a massive stage building.
Inside, the sight instantly shut Tom's mouth.
There were no caras, no sets—only crisscrossing tal trusses and countless cables.
A few people in black bodysuits—covered in white tracking dots—were performing strange movents in the central area. In front of them, a tall man with short hair and a fierce, focused gaze was barking orders at a row of monitors.
"Elbow higher! Yes! I need to see the muscle tension! Even if it's just a bunch of damn polygons right now!"
Bernard stepped forward and waited for the man to finish giving instructions before greeting him.
"Jim, looks like your new toy is coming along nicely."
The man snapped his head around. When he saw Bernard, the sharpness in his expression softened slightly.
"Bernie? How did you find ti to visit my warehouse?" His gaze swept over Takuya and Tom, finally pausing on Tom's immaculate business suit.
"Director Jas Caron," Bernard introduced, "this is the president of Sega of Arica, Tom Kalinske. And this is our managing director, Takuya Nakayama."
Tom's eyes lit up imdiately.
This was the legendary truck driver.
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