After hanging up the phone, Ron yer forcefully stubbed out the burnt cigar in the ashtray, as if drawing a perfect full stop to the conversation.
The excited flush on his face had yet to fade.
"The assassin's world—" he murmured, the light in his eyes growing brighter.
Without hesitation, he picked up another phone and dialed his secretary.
"Schedule a eting with the National Rifle Association's Executive Vice President, and the CEOs of Remington, Colt, Glock—every firearms company we've ever partnered with," Ron instructed, his tone leaving no room for argunt. "Tell them about the project's current profitability and our future plans."
Three days later, in a luxurious conference room at the top of Universal Pictures headquarters:
On one side sat Ron yer and his team of Universal executives.
On the other side, executives from various firearms companies.
"Gentlen, thank you for taking the ti to join us amidst your busy schedules," Ron yer said, personally pouring a cup of coffee for the stern, white-haired man seated at the head of the table.
This was Wayne LaPierre, the spokesman for the NRA, the National Rifle Association of Arica.
"Ron, let's hear about your results," Wayne said, taking a sip of his coffee.
"Mr. LaPierre, and everyone, please take a look," Ron said with a smile as he sat back down, gesturing for his assistant to activate the projector.
A series of eye-catching numbers appeared on the giant screen.
"Opening weekend box office: $32 million."
"The eponymous arcade ga—initial run of 25,000 units sold out in three days, with backorders exceeding 8,000 units."
"Mr. Tom Kalinski himself said that the coins arcade machines swallowed over the weekend alone would be enough to fund a sequel."
A ripple of excitent stirred through the conference room as several firearms CEOs exchanged glances. They'd clearly heard these figures before, but hearing them from Ron yer's lips carried a completely different weight.
The screen transitioned to a new set of images.
One after another, clear sales reports from gun shops across the country appeared on the screen.
"Next, we have the data provided by your subsidiaries, which I'm sure you've all reviewed."
"Remington Corporation, your tactical accessories saw a 300% sales increase last week."
"Glock, your custom modification service is swamped with appointnt requests."
"Colt, inquiries for your classic M1911 among young people have surpassed the total from the past five years combined."
Ron's voice echoed through the quiet conference room, each word like a bullet precisely striking the excitent of everyone present.
"Gentlen, this is no longer just a movie or a ga." Ron stood up, leaning forward with his hands on the conference table. "This is a cultural icon, a new trend sweeping across Arica. Young people are no longer satisfied with shooting stationary targets at a firing range. They want Gun Fu—they want to beco John Wick."
The CEO of Remington, a robust middle-aged man, couldn't help but interject, "So, you didn't summon us here today just to brag about your achievents, did you?"
"Of course not," Ron replied with a smile. "I brought you here to discuss the future developnt of this project."
He presented his vision for "The Assassin World" again, this ti with language more comrcially compelling and stirring.
From the "High Table" to the "Continental Hotel," from assassins specializing in various weapons to distinct combat aesthetics.
The conference room fell silent.
Everyone was stunned by this grand, almost delusional blueprint.
They'd seen sequels before, but turning a killer story into an endlessly expandable "world" was an entirely different ga.
"You an—" Wayne LaPierre was the first to react, his sharp mind grasping the political implications. "We can use this franchise to continuously promote a more professional, more disciplined gun culture to the public?"
"Exactly." Ron snapped his fingers. "No more street thugs abusing firearms. These are precision tools for elite assassins. Every gun has its story; every tactic its own beauty."
"I see." The CEO of Glock suddenly chuckled. "So, if the second movie features a female assassin skilled in dual-wielding pistols, and she just happens to use our new G19 model, which we're planning to release next year—"
"Then your GG fees would have to be calculated at the rate of a lead actor," Ron added half-jokingly.
The conference room erupted in knowing laughter.
They fully understood now.
This was no longer just product placent; this was deep integration, co-creation of pop culture.
"I speak for the NRA in expressing our principled support for this plan," Wayne LaPierre stated. "A positive symbol of gun culture is crucial for us."
"We're willing to invest in the sequel," the CEO of Remington said without hesitation.
"Our R&D departnt can design a custom prop gun for the film—if you can make it look cool enough," the Colt representative quickly followed up.
In an instant, commitnts for investnt, sponsorship, and technical support echoed throughout the room.
A massive alliance, composed of Hollywood giants, gaming powerhouses, and the gun industry complex, had quietly ford.
Ron yer watched the partners before him, eager to pull out their checkbooks, and couldn't suppress his smile.
He knew that from this day forward, the *John Wick* series would never face financial worries again.
Tokyo, Sega Headquarters.
In the executive manager's office, Takuya Nakayama leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh.
The desk was cluttered with faxed newspaper clippings and market reports from North Arica.
The *Los Angeles Tis* headline was blunt and attention-grabbing: "John Wick: A $32 million weekend of slaughter!"
Below it, smaller text detailed the long lines forming in front of arcade cabinets in movie theaters and the surge in custors at gun shops.
It worked.
Even with his unwavering confidence in the mories he'd brought back from the future, the thrill of seeing this concept, brought to market nearly two decades early, ignite the market was intoxicating. The satisfaction of turning his vision into reality was palpable.
His greatest fear had been that audiences of this era, still imrsed in the era of muscle-bound heroes and explosive action, wouldn't accept the more efficient and skill-based Gun Fu style.
But now it seed he'd overthought things.
Or perhaps he'd underestimated the devastating power of sheer coolness, a force that transcends ti.
With the Hollywood frenzy temporarily subsided, Takuya Nakayama's attention returned to Japan.
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