171-175

Chapter 171: Revenue Sharing

The revenue sharing for the movie, after being reduced by theater cuts and Universal's various promotional expenses, may not be as high as it seems on the surface. However, the amount reaching Allen’s hands is still in the millions.

Not to mention, the subsequent DVD release will bring in another share of income for him.

Compared to the box office, Allen is even more optimistic about the DVD market for Paranormal Activity. In the original world, this movie’s success was largely attributed to the massive revenue generated from its DVD sales.

In America, movie theaters and the DVD market cater to completely different audiences. Many people may not make a trip to the theater to watch a film but will spend significant time at video and audio stores selecting DVDs or VHS tapes to watch at home.

In fact, statistics show that the annual revenue from DVD and home video sales for major Hollywood studios is approximately $25 billion, nearly three times the total box office revenue.

A recent example is Crash, which won the Oscar for Best Picture. When it was first released in theaters, it didn’t make much of an impact. However, in the DVD market, it dominated the rental store charts as the most popular disc for an extended period. To date, its DVD sales and rental revenue have reached nearly $140 million, far exceeding its $55 million box office earnings.

This demonstrates the booming DVD market in the United States. It's no wonder that during the recent Writers Guild of America strike, one of the key demands was to renegotiate DVD royalty rates.

The home video market has undeniably become a cornerstone of Hollywood's revenue model.

---

*San Marino, on the other end of the line.*

Allen's thoughts wandered to the post-release revenue share of Paranormal Activity. Based on the current box office income, he calculated that it wouldn't take long for him to move from his current home in Little Beverly Hills to the real Beverly Hills.

Meanwhile, Ron Meyer kept reaching out to Allen over the phone, expressing goodwill.

The success of multiple movies and TV series had solidified Allen's value in Hollywood. At this point, he was one of the hottest talents in the industry.

According to Ron Meyer, many Hollywood studios were eyeing Allen. Warner Bros., for instance, had extended an offer to invite him as a potential screenwriter for the final installment of Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight trilogy.

Although the idea of having a horror movie writer work on a superhero film seemed unorthodox, it highlighted Allen’s rising prominence in Hollywood.

In fact, reporters camped outside his house partly because of this news from Warner Bros.

Nolan, as the director who rejuvenated the superhero genre with The Dark Knight, had delivered outstanding results for Warner Bros. The first two installments had garnered immense attention. However, the untimely death of Heath Ledger had cast a shadow over the third film.

Warner Bros. was desperate for a revitalizing force for the Batman series, and a darker, horror-inspired take on the character seemed like a promising direction.

In some ways, Warner Bros. lived up to its reputation as "DC's greatest enemy."

Of course, Warner Bros. wasn’t the only one extending an olive branch. Paramount and Columbia Pictures had also reached out, promising Allen creative freedom to shoot any film with a budget under $50 million.

Disney, on the other hand, had shown little interest, likely because Allen’s horror-themed works didn’t align with Disney’s family-friendly image.

Learning about the competition from other studios, Ron Meyer naturally felt compelled to show Allen the appropriate level of care. He even hinted during the call that the revenue share for The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 would be distributed soon. Typically, it would take months of audits for such payouts in Hollywood, but this one seemed expedited.

"I’ve always enjoyed collaborating with Universal on film projects, so I don’t have any plans to change studios for now. Besides, with Paranormal Activity still in theaters, I’m not ready to shift my focus to another movie just yet. I also need to oversee the script for ABC’s Modern Family..." Allen subtly reassured Ron Meyer that he wasn’t planning to leave Universal anytime soon.

After ending the call, Allen glanced out the window at the reporters.

While the attention was undoubtedly due to his recent success, it had started to interfere with his daily life. Simple activities like jogging or training at the boxing gym were now off the table.

Shaking his head, he chose to ignore the reporters outside and opened his laptop to browse online reviews of Paranormal Activity.

After about a week, the overall sentiment online had largely stabilized. Most of the discussions revolved around the movie’s plot. Many viewers had picked up on the subtle details Allen had woven into the film, with some even speculating about potential sequels linked to the haunted house.

Interestingly, some viewers were convinced that the events depicted in the film were real.

Pausing at one such comment that insisted on the film’s authenticity, Allen raised an eyebrow. A vague idea for a script began to form in his mind.

As a deeply religious nation, the U.S. is rife with legends and myths. Many Americans still reject scientific explanations in favor of supernatural beliefs. Such individuals, who might once have been dismissed as mere conspiracy theorists, now represented a growing audience.

If they were so eager to believe in the supernatural, Allen thought, why not give them what they wanted?

After all, meeting their expectations for a brush with the paranormal was the least he could do.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter 172: "The Mysterious Pond"

Script 9: "The Mysterious Pond"

Plot Overview:

Since the Great Purge, the extraordinary has declined, and humanity has gradually forgotten fear.

But the darkness has not vanished. It watches from the shadows, restless and biding its time.

On the internet, the movie Paranormal Activity sparks a fresh wave of debates about the existence of supernatural forces.

Some dismiss the supernatural as pure fiction, while others firmly believe in its reality.

The believers are not ignorant—they simply lack an opportunity to prove their convictions.

And now, that opportunity has quietly emerged...

In a thrilling adventure, a group of teenagers discovers a mysterious pond.

To meet the requirements as closely as possible, Allen decided to avoid designing too many characters in this script. Instead, like in the early Cycle script, he left more of the plot development to the participants in the story.

This approach has its pros and cons.

The downside is the absence of plot-driven characters, requiring Allen to spend more Plot Points to correct the script and avoid deviations in its development.

The upside is that, since the participants are not pre-determined roles, their unpredictable actions add a layer of intrigue to the script. For instance, the unexpected involvement of the FBI in the previous script was unplanned, but it significantly enhanced the story.

In a sense, this script's evolution resembles a reality show.

While there’s a general framework, the specific storyline depends on the participants themselves.

“Well then, let’s see who the new participants in this script will be,” Allen murmured, his face alight with anticipation as he finalized the script on the system panel.

Opening a drawer, he sifted through and selected some materials:

• Material 1: Broken Bones – 20,000 Plot Points

• Material 2: Pond Model – 80,000 Plot Points

Surprisingly, the new Mysterious Pond script required fewer materials, but the Plot Points consumption was no less. In fact, a single material cost more than any previous evolution material.

Allen speculated that this might be because he was no longer evolving props or characters but creating an actual landmark.

With this thought in mind, he continued the evolution process step by step.

Once again, a familiar notification appeared on the system’s Script Evolution page:

“Ding! Some script elements involve external plot developments. Additional Plot Points are required for evolutionary corrections. Continue?”

Allen, unfazed this time, confirmed the prompt.

“Ding! Materials match. Generating script requires 200,000 Plot Points. Select a location for plot evolution!”

• Location Option 1: New York

“Ding! Location confirmed. This script evolution requires a total of 280,000 Plot Points. Proceed?”

Two hundred eighty thousand Plot Points—neither too much nor too little.

If this had been before the Conjuring: Clockwork Marionette script, Allen might have hesitated. But with 700,000 Plot Points in hand, spending less than 300,000 felt almost trivial.

“Stay calm. Don’t let these numbers fool you. Two hundred eighty thousand Plot Points are no joke,” Allen reminded himself, shaking off the illusion of abundance.

After all, these evolution costs were only the beginning—there were still corrections to make.

Taking a deep breath to steady his emotions, he looked at the flashing prompt on the system panel and confirmed the evolution.

Evolution Begins

As 280,000 Plot Points drained away, an enormous, intangible ripple spread out from Allen’s system.

Under the system’s influence, a pitch-black chasm appeared underground in a corner of New York.

Eerie noises emanated from the chasm...

Meanwhile, a school’s schedule was unexpectedly altered, affecting a planned party.

On Allen’s system panel, a blurry image began to take shape.

As it sharpened, three young, inexperienced faces came into view. Judging by their surroundings, they seemed to be on a college campus in New York.

“Hey, look, Matt!”

One of them, a thin, brooding youth holding a spoon, called out to a friend named Matt, drawing the attention of his two companions.

The youth focused intently on the spoon, furrowing his brow and clenching his teeth as though channeling all his strength into its neck.

Clang!

With a small flick of his finger, the spoon snapped and clattered onto the concrete steps, ringing sharply. The youth exhaled deeply, as if the act had drained him.

“What do you think? This is the power of the supernatural! I broke the spoon without any physical force...”

“Come on, Andrew.”

Another youth, a stocky Black man, dismissed him with a wave. “We all know the spoon-bending trick is just metal fatigue. You keep bending it beforehand until the neck becomes brittle. Then, during the ‘performance,’ you barely have to touch it, and it breaks like magic.”

Andrew bristled at his friend’s indifference and retorted, “Okay, maybe my performance isn’t supernatural. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist! According to online reports, even the Pentagon formed a ‘paranormal task force’ during wartime. If the supernatural is fake, why would they bother?”

Andrew’s words revealed his unwavering belief in the supernatural.

Perhaps this steadfast belief was why the system had chosen him as a participant in the Mysterious Pond script.

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 173: The Reason for the Choice*

San Marino.

Allen gazed thoughtfully at the unfamiliar yet youthful faces appearing on the system screen.

Meanwhile, three participants in the script continued their heated argument.

“… If you investigate further, you'll find that the so-called ‘Supernatural Squad’ is nothing more than a group of frauds. They contributed nothing of note to warfare. Later, they became a research team focused on psychology and science, eventually disbanded by the federal government. If the ‘Supernatural Squad’ truly possessed any supernatural abilities, do you think the government would make such a decision?”

“Not just the Pentagon—countries worldwide have formed similar organizations, all of which ultimately proved that ‘supernatural powers’ are a fabricated hoax. It’s no different than that spoon you’re holding.”

“Steve!”

Sensing the sharpness in the Black man’s tone, Matt, who had remained silent until now, finally intervened.

Steve hesitated for a moment under Matt’s glance but eventually shut his mouth.

“….”

Matt turned to Andrew and gently offered, “Andrew, you know how Steve is. He’s blunt, but he doesn’t mean any harm.”

As he spoke, Matt’s gaze instinctively flickered to the broken spoon in Andrew’s hand.

“I know.”

Feeling Matt’s gaze, Andrew tightened his grip on the spoon’s handle. Without another word, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and stormed off.

“Andrew! Andrew…”

Matt called after him, watching the slender young man’s retreating figure.

“Forget it. I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” Steve muttered, shrugging. “This whole ‘supernatural’ thing is fake. He’s the only one who believes it.”

“Enough, Steve. Cut it out,” Matt snapped.

“You know what Andrew’s been through. His obsession with the supernatural has its reasons.”

Steve finally fell silent at Matt’s words.

---

San Marino.

Through the system panel, Allen observed the trio’s argument and quickly gained some insight into the chosen participants.

Among the three, Andrew was undoubtedly a firm believer in the supernatural.

In contrast, Steve was clearly a skeptic. As for Matt, while he seemed to share Steve’s disbelief, he refrained from outright challenging Andrew’s views out of consideration for his feelings.

The system’s choice of these three individuals with differing perspectives on the supernatural seemed deliberate.

---

Allen pondered what expressions these three young men—each with such contrasting beliefs—would show when confronted with undeniable evidence of the supernatural.

Meanwhile, on the system screen, Andrew was shown walking gloomily through the school halls.

“It seems the system has chosen Andrew as the main character this time,” Allen muttered.

The plot of the Phantom Lake script appeared to revolve around Andrew.

Under Allen’s watchful gaze, Andrew’s lonely figure wove through the bustling crowd at school, an outlier amidst the lively atmosphere.

The subsequent scenes were uneventful.

Andrew took a bus back to his home—a run-down apartment.

“I’m home, Mom!”

Through the system’s immersive view, Allen saw a frail woman lying on a bed with an oxygen mask over her nose. The cluttered room was littered with empty liquor bottles.

Andrew frowned, sweeping the bottles off the table with a loud clatter.

“You’re home, Andrew,” his mother croaked weakly from the bed, startled by the noise.

“What do you want for dinner?”

“Actually, I already ate outside, Mom,” Andrew lied casually, brushing off her concern.

He carried his backpack into his narrow room, tossed it onto the bed, and sat at his old desktop computer. The machine whirred to life as Andrew skillfully navigated to a website, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

“You can’t prove that Paranormal Activity is fake. Even the director admitted he only found the footage—it’s all real. If you search online, you’ll find countless phenomena that science can’t explain. Take the recent clown shooting in New York, for instance. The government’s claim about laughing gas is just a cover-up. How could laughing gas affect footage filmed from a helicopter?”

“It’s just a movie—a movie! I’m done arguing, dude. Whatever you say.”

Through the system panel, Allen watched Andrew passionately debate the authenticity of the supernatural online.

Allen’s expression grew pensive. From a certain perspective, Andrew had uncovered partial truths.

While Paranormal Activity was merely a film Allen had produced, the clown shooting was indeed a supernatural event spawned by a script.

As Andrew’s face grew more animated with excitement during his online arguments, Allen began to understand why the system had chosen him as a participant in the Phantom Lake script.

Clang—

Suddenly, a loud noise echoed from the apartment’s living room.

Andrew’s expression immediately darkened, pulling him out of his virtual world.

Bang, bang, bang—

Heavy knocks echoed from his locked bedroom door, accompanied by a deep voice.

“Open the door, Andrew!”

“Do as I say.”

Andrew glared at the door, his face clouded with anger.

“No! You’re drunk again,” he snapped.

“What? Say that again, Andrew!”

“Open the door!”

“I already said I won’t. You’re drunk, and I’m not letting you in to hurt me again.”

“Whether I’m drunk or not isn’t for you to decide, you little brat. Open the door!”

Bang, bang, bang!

The pounding grew more aggressive as the man outside shouted in frustration.

Inside the room, Andrew bit his lip, his eyes glinting with hatred.

(End of Chapter)  

Chapter 174: Everything Is Ready

*Bang, Bang—*

After repeated curses and knocks on the door, Andrew in the room still didn't answer.

The voice outside swore a few more times before finally leaving.

Inside the room, Andrew stared intensely at the now-quiet door, his fists clenched tightly for a long time.

“A drunkard father and a gravely ill mother?”

Elsewhere, through the fragmented system interface, everything happening in Andrew's home was displayed in full view.

Allen’s face reflected a thoughtful expression.

His gaze shifted slightly, and the images on the system’s panel began to change.

In New York, amidst the bustling crowds near a certain building, a sunken hole appeared in an open field nearby.

From the pitch-black opening came faint, piercing screams, as though countless people were wailing in pain. Yet, upon closer inspection, it was eerily silent, as if the sounds were nothing more than an illusion.

Around the hole, the grass gradually withered, turning yellow and lifeless.

Seeing this, Allen nodded knowingly, his face calm and composed.

Everything was now in place; the show was ready to begin.

However, as Allen’s gaze shifted, the system's screen returned to Andrew’s home.

Looking at the thin, brooding young man on the screen, Allen’s eyes glimmered with a mysterious light.

---

“...The ending doesn’t need to be too perfect. On the contrary, a bit of chaos better reflects the atmosphere of a big family.”

Los Angeles, on the set of Modern Family.  

Allen was discussing the final episode of the season with the writing team.

“I want each actor to fully showcase their character in this finale. The conflicts between them should be more pronounced—whether it’s the awkwardness of daily life, the misunderstandings between families, or even personality clashes.”

With the writers' strike over, Modern Family was back in production.

The strike had disrupted filming, forcing the actors to get back into character. However, as shooting progressed, their performances gradually improved, and the first season was nearing its conclusion.

They were about to film the season finale.

As the show’s creative lead, Allen had to oversee the production to ensure a satisfying conclusion to the season.

For other showrunners, planning a season finale might be a daunting task filled with uncertainty.

But not for Allen.

He already had the script for the finale ready. On set, his task was simply to communicate key points and shooting considerations to his writing team.

“Of course, the finale must end on a heartwarming note. The families in the show can look disheveled, but their smiles need to shine brightly.”

With the season finale outlined and tasks distributed among the writing team, Allen finally found some time to relax.

He watched the busy crew on set, pretending to tweak the script. In reality, his focus had already shifted back to the fragmented system interface.

---

“Hey, Andrew!”

A few unfriendly voices called out as Andrew found himself surrounded by a group of troublemakers.

They pushed and shoved the frail Andrew, taunting him.

“You didn’t take us seriously, did you? I’m running low on cash—pay up the money you owe us!”

“I told you already, I don’t have any money, and I don’t owe you anything.”

Clutching his backpack tightly, Andrew tried to fend off their threats with little success.

“Looks like your memory’s not too great, Andrew. Or are you planning to just ignore your debt?”

Despite Andrew’s protests, the thugs clearly had no intention of letting him go.

They grabbed his backpack, dumping its contents onto the ground. A few spoons fell out, clattering against the pavement.

Just as Andrew had said, there was no money.

Seeing this, the group exchanged disappointed glances, though one of them seemed reluctant to give up and moved closer.

*Beep! Beep!*

“Hey, what are you guys doing?”

A car horn suddenly blared from the nearby street.

Matt leaned out of the driver’s seat, shouting at the group. Steve, stepping out of the car, cracked his knuckles and gestured menacingly.

The bullies glanced at each other and, realizing they wouldn’t get anything worthwhile, decided to leave.

“Next time, don’t let me catch you again, Andrew,” one of them sneered before walking away.

Left alone, Andrew crouched down to gather his spilled belongings.

“You okay, Andrew?”

Matt knelt beside him, helping pick up the scattered items.

Meanwhile, Steve watched the thugs retreat, muttering, “If I were you, I’d just punch them in the face.”

After putting everything back into his bag, Andrew zipped it up and replied quietly, “And then get beaten even worse?”

“The more you let them push you around, the more they’ll come after you.”

“That so-called supernatural power of yours—those spoon-bending tricks—won’t help against them.”

“Alright, Steve,” Matt interrupted, noticing Andrew’s sullen expression. He understood Steve’s intentions, but this wasn’t the time to bring it up.

What Andrew needed now wasn’t criticism. As friends, the best they could do was to let it go and help him move forward.

Turning to Andrew with a smile, Matt changed the subject. “Next time you see those guys, just avoid them. Oh, by the way, I heard there’s a party happening near the school tonight. It’ll be fun—why don’t we check it out?”

“I’ll pass,” Andrew replied, shaking his head instinctively.

He didn’t like crowds, nor did he enjoy socializing.

---

(End of Chapter)  

*Chapter 175: The Cave Entrance*

"Are you sure it’s here, Matt?"

Andrew wasn’t particularly interested in the so-called party.

But in the end, he couldn’t refuse Matt’s persistent invitation. The two of them brought him to the party’s location.

Late at night, sitting in the car, Andrew glanced at the dark road ahead and the faintly illuminated building in the distance. Feeling a bit uneasy, he turned to Matt, who was in the driver’s seat, and asked, "Are you absolutely sure this is the place?"

"Relax, buddy. This is it—no doubt about it," Matt replied confidently.

The car pulled up to the party’s location.

Inside the vehicle, Steve, watching the lively crowd outside, wore an eager expression on his dark-skinned face and urged Matt impatiently.

"Hurry up, Matt! I don’t want to miss the party."

"Hold on, Steve. I still need to park the car," Matt said, rolling his eyes.

Under Steve’s relentless urging, Matt hastily parked his second-hand car. The group then joined the flow of people entering the building.

The moment they stepped into the party, they were hit by an onslaught of deafening music.

The booming rhythm immediately made Andrew uncomfortable. His usually somber face twisted with unease as he observed the people around him dancing to the music. A flicker of envy crossed his eyes, but he quickly masked it. Turning to look for his companions, Andrew noticed Matt heading toward a cluster of people while Steve had already disappeared.

"Where are you going, Matt?" Andrew called out instinctively, seeing Matt’s retreating back.

"Where?" Matt turned back, puzzled by Andrew’s tone. "To have fun, of course."

"But…I thought you’d stay with me," Andrew said, his voice tinged with surprise.

"Andrew, this is a party," Matt explained with a chuckle. "There are tons of people here having fun. I didn’t bring you here so we could hang out just the two of us. Go grab a drink, chat with someone…"

With that, Matt vanished into the crowd, leaving Andrew standing alone.

Around him, the crowd was lively, the music pounding. Yet Andrew felt utterly out of place.

---

"Sorry!"

"Hey, watch where you’re going, shorty!"

In the middle of the chaotic crowd, Andrew accidentally bumped into a drunken man.

He quickly apologized, but the man wasn’t appeased. Grabbing Andrew by the collar, the drunk leaned in, his breath reeking of alcohol. "If you can’t see where you’re going, maybe I can help you figure it out."

"I already apologized. It wasn’t intentional," Andrew stammered, feeling the stares of curious onlookers around them. He was completely at a loss.

"Just be careful next time," the man’s friend interjected, patting him on the shoulder and urging him to let it go.

Reluctantly, the drunk released Andrew with a dismissive grunt before staggering away.

Andrew, now on the floor, felt the weight of everyone’s eyes on him. Overwhelmed, he scrambled to his feet and rushed outside.

---

Los Angeles, Modern Family filming set.

Allen absentmindedly glanced at the footage being shot of Gloria’s scenes.

Noticing Andrew’s situation on the system display, his expression brightened with excitement.

Finally, it was time for the plot to truly unfold.

If the main storyline hadn’t triggered soon, he had been ready to burn some plot points to push it forward.

---

Leaving the party behind, the booming music still echoed from the building as Andrew walked along a quiet path.

He had intended to head straight back to where Matt had parked. But on the way, a sudden flicker of eerie blue light caught his attention from a clearing partially hidden by thick bushes.

The light was brief, almost imperceptible. Andrew might not have noticed it at all if not for the gut-wrenching wail that followed, startling him so badly that he clutched his ears and whipped around.

"What's that?!"

The faint blue glow emanated intermittently from the clearing.

Andrew hesitated only for a moment. Unlike most people who might have balked at investigating further, he felt an inexplicable pull.

His breathing quickened as he carefully made his way through the underbrush toward the light.

There, he found the source: a pitch-black cave entrance.

Gulping nervously, he stepped closer.

The moment he neared the opening, the blue light pulsed again, accompanied by a cacophony of anguished screams, as though from countless voices.

The sound hit him like a wave, leaving his mind blank and his body swaying.

Andrew stood frozen at the edge of the cave, his face slack with shock.

"Andrew! Andrew!"

The sound of familiar voices calling his name brought him back to his senses.

Clutching his aching head, he turned toward the voices.

Through the dense foliage, he glimpsed two figures moving toward him.

"I’m over here!" he croaked, his voice hoarse.

"Did you hear that?"

"Sounds like Andrew," Matt confirmed.

Moments later, Matt and Steve emerged from the bushes, finding Andrew standing motionless in the clearing.

"What are you doing out here, Andrew?" Steve asked, exasperated. "You left a lively party to wander off to a place like this…"

"I was worried something happened to you," Matt added, relief evident in his tone. "We couldn’t find you at the party…"

"I’m not really comfortable with party atmospheres," Andrew admitted. He didn’t want to talk about his earlier encounter, so he changed the subject.

Taking a deep breath, he looked at the two of them with uncharacteristic excitement.

"Forget the party. You won’t believe what I found here!"

(End of Chapter)