James let out a cold laugh. "Last I checked, City Hall isn’t part of Paramount’s studio lot. Why shouldn’t I be here?" He then gestured toward me and added, "I’m here with the director to register our company."

  "Director? Registering a company?" Adolph Zukor burst into laughter, his whole body shaking with amusement. The Paramount executives, directors, and actors surrounding him joined in, their laughter ringing through the hall.

  Zukor sized me up, a smirk playing at his lips. "I’ve been in Hollywood a long time, kid, and I’ve never seen you before. Director? Ha! You’re a little young, don’t you think?" He patted my shoulder twice as if he were indulging a child.

  I smiled faintly. "There’s an old Chinese saying: ‘Ambition is not measured by age.’ The stones on a mountain may be ancient, but in the end, they’re just used to prop up an outhouse. Sir, youth has its advantages. If you can’t keep up with the times, you might need to step aside."

  Zukor was so taken aback that he nearly choked on his cigar. He gave me another once-over before loudly asking, "Alright then, Mr. Director, how much is your production budget?"

  "Fifty thousand dollars," I replied cheerfully.

  The crowd erupted into laughter. Zukor himself doubled over, tears streaming from his eyes. He turned to James and sneered, "James, I never thought I’d see the day! A fifty-thousand-dollar film? You’re actually signing on for this? Ha!"

  James, however, remained as proud as ever.

  "Adolph, is that any way to treat a young filmmaker? Not very gentlemanly of you!" A new voice cut through the laughter.

  A group of about a dozen people emerged from City Hall. Leading them was a tall man, about the same age as Zukor but with graying hair, standing nearly six foot three in a pinstriped suit, a cigar between his lips.

  "Boss, that’s Louis B. Mayer, the head of MGM!" Gans whispered beside me.

  Mayer?! The very man who turned MGM from a struggling startup into a cinematic empire? The financial genius who was said to have never missed an opportunity to make money?

  My God! In the span of mere minutes, I’d run into two of Hollywood’s most powerful moguls.

  MGM and Paramount had always been bitter rivals, locked in a never-ending battle for dominance. Zukor and Mayer, in particular, could hardly stand each other. Seeing Zukor bully me, Mayer had stepped in to stir the pot.

  That earned him a few points in my book.

  "Well, well, Louis, has MGM finally gone under?" Zukor quipped, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

  Mayer casually twirled his cigar and chuckled. "I wish! But the audience won’t let us. In fact, I was just here submitting a new film proposal. Our esteemed honorary mayor, Grant, even attended the launch ceremony."

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  Hollywood was part of the greater Los Angeles area and didn’t have its own municipal government. Instead, it had an honorary mayor who presided over ceremonial events and liaised with film companies. The current honorary mayor was Johnny Grant.

  "Oh? Another new film? What’s it called?" Zukor scoffed, unimpressed.

  "The Marriage Circle. Directed by none other than Cecil B. DeMille." Mayer barely spared Zukor a glance, instead focusing his attention on me.

  Cecil B. DeMille?! The legendary director behind The Ten Commandments and The King of Kings? Wait—wasn’t The Marriage Circle made in 1926?!

  My head suddenly felt like it was going to explode.

  D*mn it! Just when I had finally secured funding, I found myself competing against two heavyweight productions—backed by two of the biggest studios, legendary directors, and mountains of resources. My little film was caught between two towering giants.

  I looked at the two moguls before me and felt a deep sense of impending doom.

  "Young man, what’s your name?" Mayer asked, his interest piqued.

  "Andre Corleone," I replied, steadying myself.

  Mayer nodded. "Italian heritage?"

  "No, Polish immigrant. I despise Italians."

  Mayer burst into laughter. "So do I! But our dear Mr. Zukor here seems to have a fondness for them." He grinned at me. "Good! Young people should be like you. When I was your age, I was still waiting tables. So, what brings you to City Hall?"

  "We’re here to register our film company."

  "Oh? And what’s it called?" Mayer seemed genuinely intrigued.

  "DreamWorks."

  "Great name! DreamWorks—I’ll remember that. I look forward to seeing your films one day. Here, take my card. If you ever want to visit MGM, just drop by." Mayer gave me an approving nod, then turned to Zukor, patted him on the shoulder, and strode off with his entourage.

  I watched him disappear into the distance, then turned to the much shorter Zukor still standing before me. I let out a long sigh.

  "Mr. Andre, what’s with the sigh? Feeling overwhelmed already?" Zukor smirked, relishing in his mockery.

  I shot him a glance. "I was just wondering—how can two men from the same industry be so vastly different?"

  James burst out laughing behind me, clutching his stomach. Even some of Zukor’s own subordinates struggled to contain their amusement.

  Zukor’s face turned red with fury. His eyes widened as he sneered, "A sharp-beaked eagle still falls to a hunter’s spear in the end."

  I smiled coolly. "There’s another Chinese saying: ‘Even the wisest make mistakes.’ Who’s to say that hunter won’t end up blinded by the eagle’s talons?"

  With that, I led James and the others toward City Hall without looking back.

  "That was amazing, Andre! I’ve never seen Zukor so flustered before! And those Chinese proverbs—perfectly timed!" James was practically giddy with excitement. Given his personal feud with Zukor, watching me put the man in his place had made his day.

  Gans and Berg chimed in, showering me with praise, calling me the greatest orator in all of Los Angeles—until I rewarded each of them with a swift kick.

  The company registration process went surprisingly smoothly. As Hollywood’s honorary mayor, Grant was eager to see more film companies established under his watch, which only expanded his influence. As long as we could pay the $500 registration fee, our age or background didn’t matter—we got our official certificate.

  The clerk handling our registration was a stunning, flirtatious Los Angeles girl. She had the kind of figure that turned heads, but James was having way too much fun teasing her, making her blush furiously. Just as we were about to finish the paperwork, Grant himself appeared. He recognized James and struck up a conversation with me. When he learned that I had registered a company, he smiled and said he’d drop by someday.

  Drop by where?! We didn’t even have an office yet!

  I put on my most insincere smile and showered him with compliments, calling him the hope of Hollywood, the pillar of the industry. (Honestly, given the way he was eyeing the flustered clerk, I’d rather have given him a completely different kind of ‘hat’ to wear.)

  To my surprise, Grant suddenly leaned in close and whispered, "Kid, I’ve got an opportunity for you. Interested?"