"Do we have a winner or just a time bomb that's going to blow up on us? Though, for the second option, it's like we are ourselves committing suicide. Ain't there a better term for it in Japanese?"
An old man stared into a newspaper article and muttered in a profound manner. The glasses he was wearing were making him look like a philosopher who was asking something life changing.
But to the people around him, it was a bunch of nonsense.
"What? I didn't understand a word you said. The first half was at least better."
A woman said. She was one of the project managers in the production house.
Another man, one of the producers butted in.
"Yeah, what's you on about?"
"This."
"[The Black Saint]? It's costing us 60 million dollars to make. The first movie earned over 200 million and we would at least break even. I don't think you should be worried about a—"
"It's not that."