Chapitre 22: Chapter 22 The Last Job
The midnight release of Batman Begins brought in $14 million, and on its first day, the film grossed $87 million.
As an original movie without a franchise foundation, this was an astounding achievement, nearly breaking records for original films.
As Betty had pointed out, much of the credit went to Tony Stark.
Without Tony's fame boosting the movie's promotion, even with its quality, it wouldn't have achieved these numbers.
A reputable movie website projected the film's final box office.
Domestically, it was expected to reach around $500 million, with at least $200 million from overseas, bringing the global box office to over $700 million.
With a $100 million investment, the revenue from box office splits yielded a return rate of over 150%. Adding income from IP management, DVDs, streaming, and on-demand services, the return rate easily exceeded 200%, marking it as a major financial success.
And this was Anton's first film as a director.
When Jameson learned of this, even as a retired businessman, he felt a twinge of envy—let alone others in the era of social media.
Wealth always draws attention.
As the center of attention, Anton was quickly dubbed a "genius director."
As Anton's popularity grew, so did his movie's reputation, and vice versa, creating a mutually beneficial cycle.
After a week of release, Batman's fan count surged past 5 million, and the box office reached $270 million.
At this point, the growth slowed, and the curve flattened.
Some movie websites adjusted their box office projections to $460 million.
Even so, Anton had already recouped his costs; everything from here on was pure profit.
According to their agreement, he didn't even have to share royalties with Tony.
Even excluding box office earnings, Anton's personal return on investment had reached an astounding 400%. For the first time, Jameson wondered if his years of hard work were less fruitful than Anton directing a few more films.
But Batman's rising popularity was suddenly interrupted by a bombshell news story.
Tony Stark, the largest shareholder and chairman of Stark Industries, had gone missing following an attack during a missile demonstration in Afghanistan.
"Missing" meant no one even knew if he was dead or alive.
Anton was stunned.
This was the plot of Iron Man 1.
He hadn't realized how quickly time had passed—Tony was about to "grow up."
From one extreme to another.
In the end, Tony's sacrifice would be bittersweet.
However, Anton wasn't worried about Tony's safety.
If Superman was the darling of the DC Universe, then Iron Man was the heart of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.
Someone with such a "destined" life wouldn't fall at such a pivotal moment.
Once Tony returned, he would become Iron Man.
Rubbing his chin, Anton suddenly had an idea.
He called Betty.
"Boss, what do you need?"
At the Daily Bugle, Betty sat at her desk, glancing at the closed door of the boss's office, grinding her teeth at Anton for skipping work.
This was the boss's life?
Work whenever he wanted, or not if he didn't feel like it?
Jealousy!
"Tony is missing. Are you aware?"
Anton got straight to the point.
"Of course."
Betty sounded perplexed. "The news has stirred the entire nation, even sparked global discussion. This is Tony Stark, the arms dealer."
"Don't forget, Batman was a movie Tony Stark invested in."
Anton continued, "The concept of Batman didn't just come from me; it also had Tony's input. It's Tony Stark's final work."
"Final work?"
Betty was stunned.
"Boss, you're a genius."
She sucked in a breath. "I almost want to dissect your heart to see if it's pitch black."
"Making money isn't shameful."
Anton snorted. "Get to work. If I don't see a box office boost tomorrow, you're fired."
"Your heart must be black; I don't even need to dissect it to know."
Betty sighed.
Anton gleefully opened the fan count interface.
8.8 million.
It was exactly as he expected.
According to his estimates, he'd be able to get his hands on the Batman suit by tomorrow, at the latest the day after.
...
San Francisco.
Drake received a message from his head bodyguard. Looking at the name on the computer screen, hailed as a "genius director," he wore a satisfied smile.
"Genius director?"
Drake murmured, "Soon, for every person cheering for you, there'll be just as many pitying you."
Meanwhile…
New York, Manhattan's Financial District, Wall Street Court.
The Continental Hotel.
Winston looked at the photo handed to him by his subordinate, showing a surprised expression.
As the manager of the Continental, he had diligently worked for over thirty years, building an extensive network in New York's underground and was well-informed about the city's celebrities.
The man in the photo was currently the talk of the nation.
But considering the party who issued the order, Winston wasn't surprised; he even thought the revenge was overdue.
"A $10 million bounty."
He squinted, remarking, "Even when plagued with trouble, still so lavish."
"Winston, you wanted to see me?"
John Wick approached Winston.
At this point, he had already agreed on a retirement date with the Continental.
"John, this is your last assignment before retirement."
Winston smiled.
John Wick looked at the young man in the photo.
He took the information packet from Winston and flipped through it carefully for a few minutes, expressionless. "Should I say thank you?"
"No need. I'll take it as said."
Winston waved dismissively, his tone warm. "It's your final mission, after all. Hope it gives you a taste of the boredom of retirement. If you ever want to come back, you're always welcome."
"I won't be back."
John Wick replied coolly and turned to leave. "Goodbye, Winston."
"Goodbye."
Winston gazed off into the distance, seated like a king on his sofa, watching his knight depart on a final mission.
In truth, that's exactly what it was.
For the man who ruled the Continental, John, the assassin king, was his knight, his most skilled knight.
But sadly, his best asset was about to retire.
It was time to find new blood.
Winston fell into contemplation.
Elsewhere, John Wick left the Continental, got into his car with his dog in the passenger seat, and drove to an upscale neighborhood.
Each house here was worth tens of millions.
For all the years John Wick had worked for the Continental, he might just be able to afford one of these, and only the cheapest one.
But John Wick's heart felt no waves.
People like him had, in most cases, discarded unnecessary emotions.
Especially envy and anger.
Knowing this was his last job, John Wick's eyes held a subtle shift.
As the standard-setter for assassins, Winston hadn't given him an impossible task for his final mission, which could be considered merciful.
It wasn't a mob boss, a retired agent, or a former soldier.
Just a so-called "genius director" who was completely unprepared and powerless against him. For John Wick, the assassin king, it would be a walk in the park.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone