368-390

Chapter 368: I’ll Decide the Male Lead! 

Dunn slipped on his sunglasses. 

Having just wrapped up post-production on A Beautiful Mind, the first notification from the system was that the “Mirror Possession” ability tied to Oliver Stone had expired. 

In the search bar at the top right, Dunn typed in Minority Report. Within seconds, over 1,200 contracts related to the project popped up. 

The seventh entry on the first page was the preliminary contract for the male lead! 

He opened it—yep, there it was: Tom Cruise’s name, clear as day. 

Lately, Dunn had been stressing over the TV network situation, racking his brain to butter up that old fox Redstone and dodge a looming crisis. He’d even handed off all the marketing for Mr. & Mrs. Smith to others, barely keeping tabs on it. 

And then, at a time like this, Tom Cruise had the nerve to step on his toes—and worse, make Natalie cry? Well, no one could blame Dunn for what came next! 

Time to hit hard. 

He had to stomp out this kind of nonsense once and for all! 

Other studio bosses might treat Tom Cruise like some golden goose, but not Dunn. Never had, never would. 

Whether it was Bruce Willis or Michael Bay, Dunn didn’t coddle anyone. Revenge for grudges, payback for slights—that’s how he rolled. 

Since Tom Cruise wanted to flex his clout in the crew and start a fight, Dunn wasn’t about to hold back. Ruthless and relentless—that’s what Cruise was in for. 

A grim, menacing smirk tugged at Dunn’s lips. 

Let’s play, then! 

20th Century Fox, Steven Spielberg, Tom Cruise—you all love games, don’t you? Fine, let’s make it a big one! 

Dunn already had a plan. He was going to flip the script—literally—“Steal the Contract”! 

Back when he first got the system’s newbie gift pack, it came with two “Steal the Contract” skills. He’d used the first to snatch James Cameron’s Titanic and the second to grab George Lucas’s Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace. 

Those two moves were a huge part of why Dunn was where he was today—unstoppable! 

The skill let him rewrite a contract’s ownership, and it didn’t even have to be for himself. 

It could be for anyone. 

These days, Dunn didn’t need “Steal the Contract” for his own projects—he could fund his movies outright. But Natalie Portman? She was different. She loved acting, dreamed of working with top directors, and thrived on the joy of performing. 

The “Steal the Contract” he’d been holding onto was meant for her down the line. 

Sure, Dunn’s name carried weight in Hollywood, and his influence was massive. But using that to strong-arm legends like Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese, or Clint Eastwood? Not a chance. 

“Steal the Contract” was his ace in the hole. 

And now, it had a new target. 

“Using a rare skill like this on you, Tom Cruise—you should feel honored!” Dunn muttered with a cold sneer, ready to erase Cruise’s name from the contract. 

But just as he started, he paused. “If I ditch Tom Cruise… who’s taking his place?” 

Minority Report only got off the ground because Tom Cruise was the male lead—a cash cow who could pull in investors left and right. The project had faced almost no pushback during development. 

Dunn knew swapping out the lead could throw everything into chaos. Spielberg might even walk away, and 20th Century Fox could scrap the whole thing. 

To keep the project alive—and give Natalie her shot with Spielberg—he’d need to pick a star big enough, with enough box-office pull, to keep the investors and producers happy! 

“Who should it be?” 

Dunn sat there for five minutes, racking his brain, but no perfect candidate came to mind. 

Mel Gibson? 

Big enough, sure, but he was tied up prepping Signs for Dunn’s studio—no way he could juggle both. 

Tom Hanks? 

No dice. He was all about serious dramas, not action flicks. 

Will Smith? 

Wrong fit—too much of a racial mismatch for this one. 

Leonardo DiCaprio? 

That kid just finished Gangs of New York and was chilling in Hawaii. Lazy as he was, no chance he’d jump into back-to-back shoots. 

Brad Pitt, George Clooney? They had the chops for a lead role, but their box-office draw wasn’t quite there. 

After running through a dozen names, one finally clicked, and Dunn’s eyes lit up. “Yes! Him!” 

He dialed Sofia Coppola. “You know about Minority Report, right?” 

Sofia, deep in the weeds writing her new script Lost in Tokyo, chuckled. “Yeah, Spielberg’s next big thing. It’s been hyped for years—what’s up?” 

Dunn cut to the chase. “I’m thinking of putting your cousin in as the male lead. What do you think?” 

“What?!” Sofia yelped. “That’s crazy! Isn’t Tom Cruise already locked in? It’s been public for ages!” 

Dunn scoffed. “I wanted Nat as the female lead, but Cruise got in the way, trying to edge her out. So, sorry, but I’m not playing nice anymore.” 

Sofia knew his temper but was still floored. “Dunn, you’re not joking, are you? How’s that even possible? It’s not your movie! Kicking out Tom Cruise—God, that’s wild!” 

To her, it sounded insane. 

Tom Cruise was a studio’s dream—everyone fought to get him, not shove him out! 

Unless it was a Dunn Pictures production, no company in their right mind would ditch Tom Cruise! 

“If I say I can make it happen, I will,” Dunn shot back, dripping with disdain. “Tom Cruise is a big deal? Compared to me?” 

Sofia frowned. “Okay, you’re the big shot, but—” 

“Enough, Sofia,” Dunn interrupted. “I’m not here to argue. I’m telling you what’s happening. Your cousin’s last movie, Gone in 60 Seconds, didn’t exactly light up the box office—partly my fault. And his next one, Windtalkers? I’m not sold on it. Like Pearl Harbor, war movies aren’t hot right now with the economy tanking. Two big flops in a row could hurt his standing.” 

That got Sofia nervous. Dunn’s track record on movie predictions was flawless. 

“You—you really think you can get him the Minority Report lead?” 

“Yep. Only problem is, I don’t have his number. Just need to make sure he’s free.” 

“He is! I saw him a couple days ago—he’s got nothing lined up,” Sofia said, pausing. “Tell you what, I’ll call him and have him reach out to you.” 

After hanging up, Dunn sighed, already dreading Nicolas Cage’s personality. 

The guy was a bit of an arrogant oddball. They’d met a few times but barely exchanged words. 

Part of it was because Cage ran with Jerry Bruckheimer—Dunn’s sworn enemy! 

Still, Dunn’s approach to Cage versus Michael Bay was night and day. 

Sure, both were Bruckheimer’s lackeys, but Cage had never trashed Dunn in the press—not even when Spider-Man crushed Gone in 60 Seconds last year. He’d stayed cool about it. 

Plus, Dunn had a solid bond with the Coppola family. They looked out for each other, so helping Cage was a no-brainer. 

A guy with his acting chops and action-star cred was rare in Hollywood. 

Letting him fade into a king of flops would be a damn shame—for him and the industry. 

Ten minutes later, Dunn’s phone rang. First time he’d ever talked to Nicolas Cage directly. 

“Mr. Walker, you—you really think I could take the Minority Report lead?” Cage asked, using formal tones, his voice buzzing with excitement. 

Dunn laughed. “Call me Dunn. As for whether it’ll work—well, we’ll see. If you’re in, I’ll start talking to 20th Century Fox.” 

“I’m in! Of course I’m in!” Cage replied fast. “Truth is, two years ago when Spielberg announced Minority Report, I had my agent reach out. But he’d already picked his guy.” 

Dunn smirked. “Producers, crew, director—I’ll handle that. Just sync up with your agent and be ready to jump in.” 

Cage went quiet for a sec. “Mr. Walker, thank you.” 

Dunn chuckled. “No need to thank me—we’re friends, right? Oh, and going forward, be pickier with your roles. Think about all the angles.” 

“Yeah, got it,” Cage said quickly. 

Did he really catch the subtle hint? Dunn wasn’t so sure and shook his head. 

He just hoped Cage would wise up and ditch Bruckheimer before running his career into the ground. 

After the call, Dunn grabbed a new phone, typed out a text, and mass-sent it: 

“I think Nicolas Cage should be the male lead for Minority Report, with Natalie Portman as the female lead. —Dunn Walker” 

Recipients: Tom Rothman, Jim Gianopulos, Jan de Bont, Steven Spielberg, Michael Ovitz, Ronald Shusett, Gary Goldman, Brian Lord, Hilda Quirly, Natalie Portman, Nicolas Cage 

Then, Dunn slid his sunglasses back on, pulled up the contract, and without hesitation, wiped out “Tom Cruise” from the signature line, replacing it with “Nicolas Cage.” 

“Confirm use of Steal the Contract skill?” 

“Confirm!” 

In that instant, the game changed! 

Chapter 369: Passing the Buck, Round Two  

“Jimmy, I just got a text—ha, did someone hack your phone?”  

Tom Cruise called Jim Gianopulos, the head of Twentieth Century Fox’s production department, his tone light and half-joking.  

He’d just received a message saying he’d been dropped from the lead role in Minority Report. Hilarious!  

A scam text like that? Totally amateur.  

Jim Gianopulos paused for a moment before saying slowly, “Tom, about this… you need to stay calm. Keep it together.”  

“Huh?” Tom Cruise blinked, chuckling. “Jimmy, what are you talking about? Keep what together?”  

Gianopulos sighed. “Tom, that text from earlier… I sent it. Just wanted to give you a heads-up. The official termination notice is being sent to you through your agency right now.”  

Tom Cruise froze. That signature grin of his stiffened. “Jimmy, you’re kidding, right? Haha, you’ve got to be kidding.”  

Gianopulos frowned, his voice firm. “Tom! This isn’t a drill. It’s not a joke—it’s real. After discussions with the project’s investors, they’ve all agreed you’re not the right fit for the lead in Minority Report. You’re out.”  

“No way!”  

Tom Cruise’s eyes turned bloodshot, his voice spiking into a roar.  

Gianopulos wasn’t pleased. “Tom, I told you—stay calm!”  

“Why? You owe me an explanation! I’m Tom Cruise! This project even exists—got funding so easily—because of me! So why?”  

Tom was losing it, his words a jumbled mess of furious questions.  

Gianopulos, a high-ranking exec at Twentieth Century Fox—rumored to be in line for vice chairman and president, the number-two spot—didn’t appreciate the tone. He replied coldly, “Why? You really don’t know?”  

Tom was too worked up to catch the hint. Then something clicked, like a lifeline. “Wait—Steven! He’s the director. He’s got my back!”  

“Steven Spielberg… yeah, he’s the director. He’s got a big say in picking the lead.”  

“Exactly!” Tom exhaled, relieved. “He’ll fight for me with the investors. He’ll back me up.”  

Gianopulos nearly laughed. “Tom, you’re not getting it. Minority Report has seven investors. Aside from your production company, the other six—including DreamWorks—all voted to replace you.”  

“What?” Tom’s scream sounded like a pig being slaughtered. “That’s impossible!”  

…  

Half an hour later, Tom Cruise finally cooled off.  

His emotional intelligence might be lacking, but he wasn’t dumb.  

Yelling at these old-timers would only backfire and tick them off.  

Taking a deep breath, he called Jan de Bont, the lead producer of Minority Report and a legendary action movie producer in Hollywood.  

“Jan, I’m confused. Am I really fired?” Tom tried to keep his voice steady.  

Jan sighed. “Yeah, the news that you’re out has already spread through the crew.”  

“Why? I need an explanation.”  

“Look… I can’t do anything about it, Tom. You know I’ve always wanted to work with you, but I’m just a producer. The real power’s with the investors. I have to go along with what they decide.”  

Jan’s tone sounded totally innocent.  

“Can you push for me a little?” Tom Cruise hadn’t spoken this softly to anyone since he’d hit it big.  

“Uh… that’s tough. It’s already set in stone.” Jan brushed it off casually, then quickly changed the subject. “Anyway, Tom, I’ve got to run—work’s piling up.”  

…  

This time, Tom reached out to Gary Goodman, another investor and producer on Minority Report. “Gary, what’s going on? Why are they replacing me?”  

Gary said, “Honestly, I don’t know the reason. You know I’m a huge fan of yours!”  

“So you’re on my side?”  

“Of course! I argued hard for you, but it didn’t matter. My stake’s small, and my voice doesn’t carry much weight. I couldn’t change the outcome.”  

Tom was fed up with these fake platitudes. He frowned. “Gary, can you just tell me—who suggested dumping me?”  

Gary chuckled. “Tom, you’ve been an investor yourself. You know that’s confidential business stuff. I can’t spill that to an outsider.”  

“Outsider?” Tom’s scalp tingled with rage. “I’m an outsider?”  

Gary无奈地 shrugged over the phone. “You used to be the lead, part of the team—family, right? But now… you’re not tied to Minority Report anymore. I can’t share sensitive info like that with you.”  

Tom took a deep breath. “Fine. Then tell me—who’s the new lead they picked?”  

“That’s still under wraps. You’ll find out in a few days, heh.” Gary’s deflection skills were top-tier. He pivoted fast. “Tom, it’s just one gig. No big deal. You’re Tom Cruise! Even without this, better offers will roll in.”  

Tom was shaking with anger.  

With his status and talent, losing Minority Report wouldn’t leave him short of work—he was a Hollywood superstar, after all. But… he couldn’t swallow this!  

Back in 1999, he’d teamed up with Twentieth Century Fox and Steven Spielberg, publicly announcing their collaboration on Minority Report.  

For over two years, it’d been hyped up. Everyone knew Tom Cruise was the lead.  

And now, with filming about to start, he’d been sacked!  

It was infuriating enough to make anyone lose it!  

Tom didn’t care about the gig itself—he cared about his reputation!  

Getting canned like this, with no reason given? A top-tier Hollywood star like him—where was he supposed to put his pride? How could he show his face?  

He’d be a laughingstock in Hollywood!  

Still not giving up, Tom finally called Steven Spielberg.  

Two years ago, they’d agreed to work on this film together.  

Spielberg was the world’s most famous director. His promises had to mean something, right?  

“Steven, they’re saying I got fired. Is that true?”  

“Yeah.”  

“I need an explanation!”  

Spielberg’s tone was heavy. “Tom, you’re a Hollywood star, a producer. I always thought… you’d get this.”  

Oh, great—same playbook he used with Dunn.  

“Get it?” Tom huffed. “I don’t get it! Unless I’m misremembering, two years ago, we locked this down—I’d be the lead! We even signed a contract!”  

Spielberg said, “The contract stuff, Twentieth Century Fox will handle. And you know the biggest player here is Fox. I’m just the director—I don’t have the final say! Plus, your involvement has already caused some instability for the project. The investors don’t want the film’s future to be unpredictable.”  

“Instability? What’s that supposed to mean?” Tom blinked, confused.  

Some things others wouldn’t dare say, but Spielberg had no qualms, even with Tom Cruise. “You don’t know what you did?”  

Tom sat there, stunned, before muttering, “Wait… is this because I didn’t want to work with Natalie Portman? No, that can’t be it…”  

“What can’t be?”  

“Natalie Portman’s just some second-rate starlet! I’m a Hollywood heavyweight! Status, experience, box office pull, influence—how does she even compare?”  

Spielberg shook his head, his voice cool. “Sure, Natalie’s nowhere near you in any of that. But don’t forget—there’s a big player standing behind her.”  

“Dunn Walker?”  

Tom’s eyes widened, shock and disbelief written all over his face. “No way! He’s just a director who’s had a few hits. What gives him the right to mess with our project? Minority Report is a Twentieth Century Fox production, not Dunn Films!”  

Spielberg sighed. “Tom, clearly you don’t realize how much authority and influence he’s got.”  

“Huh?”  

“Do you know who the new lead for Minority Report is?”  

“Who?”  

“Nicolas Cage!”  

Tom smirked dismissively. “Him? Some guy coasting on family connections, barely scraping by in Hollywood, and he’s supposed to match me?”  

Spielberg frowned faintly. “I won’t judge Nic’s talent. I’ll just give you the facts—he got the lead role in Minority Report because Dunn recommended him.”  

“Dunn recommended him?” Tom scoffed repeatedly. “Steven, I’m not an idiot. You think anyone’s buying that? He can dictate casting for a Twentieth Century Fox movie? Even Michael Eisner couldn’t pull that off!”  

“Yeah, Michael Eisner couldn’t. But Dunn did.”  

“Steven, you… you’re serious?”  

“Dead serious!”  

Hearing Spielberg’s firm, resounding answer, Tom Cruise collapsed. His face froze, his whole body slumping like he’d been dropped into the Arctic Circle, too cold to even shiver.  

“Dunn!”  

Tom took a deep breath, nearly coughing up blood.  

In that moment, he finally grasped what a ridiculous, absurd mistake it’d been to push Natalie Portman out of the crew!  

Dunn… had somehow gained this terrifying level of influence!  

If only he’d known sooner! 

Chapter 370: Win Dunn, Win the World 

Nicolas Cage and Dunn weren’t exactly buddies. 

He still remembered the first time they met—at his uncle Francis Coppola’s house. Back then, Dunn didn’t have the clout he wielded now. Sure, he’d made Titanic, but his reputation wasn’t great—more like a lucky upstart. So, over that dinner, Nicolas didn’t say a word to him. 

Nicolas Cage had a proud streak, even a touch of arrogance. Why else would he ditch a name like “Coppola”? 

But who could’ve guessed that in just a few short years, Dunn would rise to become a heavyweight in Hollywood? 

This time, squeezing out Tom Cruise to snag the male lead in Minority Report was the ultimate proof! 

Nicolas was sharp—he knew Dunn wasn’t helping him out of the goodness of his heart. It was about paying back a favor to the Coppola family. That much had to be clear. 

After getting the heads-up from his agent, Nicolas didn’t rush to call Dunn with thanks. Instead, he mulled it over briefly and dialed his uncle Francis Coppola. 

He laid out the situation, and Francis couldn’t believe it. “You’re saying… Dunn convinced 20th Century Fox and Steven to drop Tom Cruise and hand the lead role to you?” 

Nicolas laughed, still buzzing. “Yeah! I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. Didn’t think it’d actually happen!” 

Francis sucked in a breath, muttering to himself, “Unreal… in just a few years, he’s built up this kind of power in Hollywood.” 

“Uncle, how should I thank him?” Nicolas asked, excitement mixing with nerves. “Last month, I dropped 1.2 million at an auction on a complete ancient Egyptian skull. What if I gave that to him as a gift?” 

Francis nearly blew a gasket. “How many times have I told you to stop wasting money on weird crap like that? You’ll go broke!” 

Nicolas shrugged it off. “Uncle, you don’t get it—it’s an investment! In this economic mess, antiques are the safest bet!” 

“Dunn’s only 30-something, and you want to give him a skull? Trying to scare him to death, you clueless idiot?” Francis roared, furious at his nephew’s nonsense. 

Italian blood ran hot—yelling and cursing were just part of the family routine. 

Nicolas rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. How about a car instead? I just got it last month—a 1964 Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud III. Only 27 left-hand-drive convertibles exist worldwide. Super rare!” 

That calmed Francis down a bit. 

Good thing his nephew wasn’t a total moron! 

For Dunn to pull strings at his age, getting 20th Century Fox and Spielberg to ditch Tom Cruise—that was some serious juice. 

Francis knew his limits. He couldn’t pull that off. 

“Yeah, rare vintage cars are a dime a dozen, but there’s only one Dunn. Nick, this is your shot—don’t blow it! The Coppola family doesn’t get favors like this every day.” 

Nicolas felt a pang at that. 

Sure, he’d changed his name, acting like he didn’t need the Coppola shadow. But deep down, he knew it was the family name that had helped him thrive in Hollywood. 

Back when he was just 32, he’d won an Oscar for Best Actor, beating out Sean Penn, Anthony Hopkins, and Massimo Troisi in a major upset. A big part of that was Francis cashing in every favor he had. 

And now, Dunn stepping in to land him Minority Report? That was the Coppola connection again, wasn’t it? 

Nicolas took a deep breath. “Uncle, I get it.” 

Francis grunted faintly. “Oh, and ease up on Jerry Bruckheimer. I saw Pearl Harbor—complete garbage.” 

“Uh…” 

“Nick?” 

“Alright, I’ll listen to you!” 

Nicolas nodded firmly. 

Obviously, between Dunn and Jerry Bruckheimer, anyone with a brain would pick Dunn—especially after Pearl Harbor tanked hard. 

Rose Byrne might come off as sweet and friendly to everyone, but inside, she was stressing out! 

She’d been by Dunn’s side for over six months and only scored a tiny role in Juno. 

Meanwhile, Penelope Cruz had already done two Warner films and just landed the female lead in Marvel’s big-budget Daredevil as Elektra! 

And Charlize Theron? No need to even mention her. The Unsinking was killing it in theaters, and her role as a female oil worker was getting praised left and right by feminist groups, hailed as a symbol of the modern woman. 

Penelope and Charlize were a duo that knew how to play the game—and Dunn adored them for it. 

Rose, on the other hand, felt like the odd one out, left in the cold. 

She needed an ally! 

She’d had someone in mind for a while: her Aussie pal Abbie Cornish. 

Problem was, Abbie hadn’t graduated yet—she’d still been studying in Australia. 

Now she was done, and Natalie was on break too. 

But Rose couldn’t exactly bring her bestie in to compete for attention right in front of Natalie, could she? 

Still, dragging this out… when would her chance come? 

Dunn Pictures had just greenlit two new films, and she still hadn’t snagged a role. 

Opportunities don’t just fall in your lap—you’ve got to fight for them! 

Rose wasn’t giving up. She’d been working hard to get on Natalie’s good side, hoping for a chance to bring Abbie over. 

And now, that chance was here! 

The two were hanging out in Palm Springs, just outside LA, when Natalie got a call from her agent. She was over the moon. 

Rose knew Dunn had pulled it off—he’d gotten Natalie’s lost role back. 

She’d never seen Natalie this happy. 

With her in such a great mood, maybe she’d say yes… 

“Natalie, I… I wanted to talk to you about something.” 

“Go ahead!” Natalie chirped, still basking in her bliss. 

“Well… I’d like to invite a good friend of mine to come stay with me for a bit.” 

“Oh.” 

Natalie barely reacted, still lost in her bubble. 

Rose pressed on, a little anxious. “Natalie, she… she’s an actress. An Aussie actress.” 

“Hm?” Natalie finally caught on, turning to face her. The smile faded, her gaze sharpening. “Pretty?” 

“Yeah!” 

Natalie’s eyes turned icy. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Rose scrambled. “Natalie, don’t get me wrong—you’re my friend! I’d never think anything shady. It’s just… Charlie and Penny are always sharing a room, you know? I’m kinda stuck here.” 

Natalie’s expression softened a bit, but the beaming smile was gone. Her tone carried a sarcastic edge. “Guess the more people around, the easier it is to win his favor, huh?” 

Rose treaded carefully. “It’s not like that. We… we’re just his sidekicks. More people just means we can take better care of him. You’re different—you’re his girlfriend. You’ve got all his love.” 

Natalie’s lips twitched into a faint smirk before she shook her head. “What’s her name?” 

“Abbie Cornish.” 

“How old?” 

“19.” 

Natalie’s brow furrowed. 

All of Dunn’s current companions were older than her. Bringing in someone younger could shake things up. “She’s so young… is that a good idea?” 

Rose sighed. “It’s the entertainment biz—youth is the game.” 

Natalie waved her off. “I mean she’s so young, she might not get how things work.” 

Rose jumped in. “I can explain it to her! I know there are tons of rules at the Hillside Manor—I’ll make sure she follows them.” 

Natalie shook her head. “You’re talking about Dunn’s rules. I’m talking about my rules.” 

“Your rules?” 

Rose blinked, puzzled, mulling it over but still not getting it. 

Natalie sighed and spelled it out. “Look, I’m Dunn’s girlfriend. He’s a successful guy, brilliant, and I don’t want to stifle his creativity or imagination. So, I give him his space. But I don’t want that space turning into a powder keg that blows up our relationship.” 

Rose finally clicked, straightening up. “Don’t worry—I’ll talk to Abbie, make sure she knows her place and stays in line. I’ll keep an eye on her!” 

Natalie nodded. 

She wasn’t worried about Dunn hanging out with seasoned players like Nicole Kidman or Charlize Theron—they knew the score. 

What scared her were newbies like Rose and Abbie—girls fresh to the industry who overthought everything and couldn’t separate physical stuff from feelings. 

Natalie couldn’t control Dunn’s private life, but she sure as hell could plan ahead and protect what mattered.