Robert Downey Jr.

Dean beside him looked equally delighted. He had approved the investment in this film. Although the investment was not large, if it ended in losses, he would still have to bear responsibility.

And now, the screeners had actually rated it as having the potential to become a classic in film history. Judging from that assessment, with an investment of $1.3 million, losses were practically impossible.

Dean turned to Shaye. The specific promotional plan still had to be decided by him, the boss and president.

But with the screeners' reviews, the promotional push certainly would not be small.

Shaye considered his own thoughts on the film he had just watched, then combined them with the opinions of the screeners present. He immediately made up his mind.

Saw had the potential to become a massive hit and was worth a substantial promotional budget.

Of course, "substantial" was relative to Saw.

"Dean, contact the publicity department immediately. I'll have finance release $3 million to blanket theaters near American colleges with advertising."

"Also, contact print media and all kinds of film critics."

"I want to hold an advance screening and build up the film's reputation ahead of time. We'll do everything we can to make Saw a classic."

Shaye spoke decisively.

Clearly, from the feedback of those present and his own viewing experience, he too had sensed Saw's potential to become a classic.

For a film company, a classic film had an exceptionally long revenue life.

Box office receipts often accounted for only 20 to 30 percent of total revenue.

DVD sales and other forms of income could continue for decades. Over time, the steady stream of earnings was no less profitable than box office revenue.

But all of that was built on box office performance.

No matter how classic a film was, if its box office was abysmal, the public would not recognize it.

Shaye turned around, his Jewish face practically broadcasting his desire to make a fortune. As it happened, Kevin thought the same way. Though he only had a 5 percent share of the box office,

if it truly became a massive hit, it would still be no small sum.

And that share was not enough to make New Line Cinema fall out with him, their genius director.

Everything was proceeding according to his plan.

Facing Shaye's gaze, Kevin smiled as well.

Shaye smiled warmly and said,

"Director Kevin, we'll need your cooperation for the advance screening attended by critics and traditional media. Is your schedule all right?"

Kevin nodded.

"Don't worry. I'll cooperate throughout. If there's anything, just tell me directly or contact my agent, Dawson."

Kevin's words pleased Shaye as well. Genius directors often had strange quirks or arrogant temperaments.

But Kevin had none of those problems.

At the same time, he had kept a firm grip on the production budget and had even left some money over. That was why he had no objection to using the remaining funds for a party.

If every director could be like Kevin, that would be wonderful.

Saw had not even been released yet, but Shaye was already considering a second collaboration with him.

With basically everything handled, Kevin had little left to do as the director besides the upcoming advance screening.

The school break had not ended yet—or rather, for a director like him who was about to graduate, his coursework had already been completely finished.

Even without Saw, he could still have graduated smoothly.

Mitt and the others had their own matters to attend to. As Kevin reviewed the memories in his mind, he unknowingly arrived on Broadway.

As an orphan, he had grown up in an orphanage since childhood. But unlike the others, he had not fallen into ruin. Instead, he understood that studying was his only chance to change his fate.

So he had studied desperately all the way through. Combined with his intelligence, that was how he had managed to get into the University of Southern California despite such poor circumstances.

And his friend—or rather, the person who had guided him onto the path of becoming a director—was someone in this Broadway theater.

Kevin continued thinking. As time passed and the memories fused further, he sometimes could no longer tell whether he was Chen Daoxuan or Kevin.

Or perhaps they had always been the same person, merely connected as past and present lives.

"Creak!"

The sound of an iron door being pushed open reached his ears. A handsome young man with a square face walked out.

"Kevin!"

"Come on, I'm buying you a drink!"

Robert Downey Jr. slung an arm around Kevin's shoulders and dragged him toward a nearby bar as though escorting a prisoner.

That was right. The guide who had appeared before Kevin was Robert Downey Jr.

They had met by chance in the library.

As a young man who had dropped out of school, Downey could not avoid studying if he wanted to go further in his acting career.

Everyone praised Downey as a genius, but only Kevin knew that geniuses had to work hard too.

The two had met in the library. Kevin worked hard for his future, while Downey worked hard for his acting career.

In Downey's eyes, Kevin was an immature child.

Just like his younger brother.

Because of that, Downey had helped him often—buying him meals, paying for some books, helping Kevin better understand what a director needed, and telling him some of Hollywood's inside stories. As for direct financial assistance, Kevin could not accept that.

Chen Daoxuan, as someone who had transmigrated, accepted this as well and inherited the bond between them.

As for why he had not let Downey play Jigsaw, it was instead a matter of image.

Coulson... no, Gregg, naturally carried a special kind of friendly warmth. In front of him, you would never worry that you might be in danger.

When that temperament was placed in the hands of a killer with faith, it created a striking contrast.

The killer did not think he was committing crimes. Instead, he believed he was helping God cleanse the world of scum who did not cherish life, which made him all the more chilling.

In any case, from what Kevin saw through the camera, Gregg's effect was far stronger than Tobin Bell's, who had always played killers, criminals, and serial murderers.

That peculiar sense of contrast did not weaken Jigsaw's appeal in the slightest. Instead, it added an aura of God's servant around him.

Led by Downey, the two soon arrived at a bar.

As the sky gradually darkened, colorful lights came on inside the bar, and the place immediately descended into wild chaos.

Through the dim lighting, Kevin could already see men and women hiding in corners, their vaguely visible silhouettes merging into one.

One word: chaos!

Kevin instinctively disliked places like this. Whether in his past life or this one, he had never liked such venues.

Downey, meanwhile, moved through the bar like a fish in water and looked thoroughly delighted. Only after a while did he remember Kevin, the younger brother who was three years his junior.