Chapter 332: Counterattack

After years of waiting, Star Wars fans had finally welcomed a new installment in the franchise. Yet ever since its Premiere, The Phantom Menace had faced relentless criticism. Some of the more extreme Star Wars fans even blasted George Lucas, accusing him of single-handedly destroying the series' pristine image in their hearts.

No matter how fierce the backlash grew, this was still the Star Wars Series. George Lucas might have struggled with storytelling, but he remained one of the greatest technical directors alive. For its era, the visual effects in The Phantom Menace were absolutely cutting-edge.

Following the Star Wars Premiere, Duke made a point to attend a high-level meeting at Marvel Comics. He kept his remarks brief. After introducing his representative there, he offered only one piece of advice: temporarily halt the indiscriminate licensing of their comic characters.

Thanks to Duke's investment, Marvel Comics' financial woes had improved considerably. Had the company not been on the brink of bankruptcy a short while ago, struggling just to stay afloat, they never would have sold off their heroes at bargain-bin prices.

Duke stayed in New York for the weekend. When the three days passed and the new weekly box office charts were released, The Phantom Menace hadn't broken the unprecedented $100 million opening-weekend barrier the media had predicted. Instead, it claimed the weekly box office crown with a haul of over $65 million.

Battered by the impact of Star Wars, the rest of the films sharing its release window saw sharp declines. Duke's Daylight was no exception. With its North American theater count slashed to 2,023, it brought in $5.98 million over the three-day weekend, pushing its cumulative North American box office to $79.13 million.

As more Summer Season blockbusters hit the theaters, the market space for Daylight would only shrink further. By Duke's estimation, the film turning a profit was a certainty, but breaking the $100 million mark at the North American box office would be very difficult.

The weekend had just ended when Duke received a call from an unknown number. The caller invited him to a cafe on Long Island for a chat.

It was an old cafe with a sparse clientele. Walking inside, Duke spotted a girl in a baseball cap sitting in the corner, flipping through a newspaper. He strolled over at a leisurely pace.

"A latte, thank you."

After ordering his coffee, Duke settled into the hardwood chair and looked across the table.

Natalie Portman was dressed in simple student denim, a Yankees cap resting on her head. She wore no makeup on her distinctly contoured face, clearly revealing a faint dusting of freckles and a small mole on her cheek.

"Thank you."

Accepting the coffee from the server, Duke handed over a tip and asked, "Did you need me for something?"

"Not really," Natalie replied flatly. "I just wanted to read something to you."

"Read something?" Duke frowned in surprise.

His remarks on the night of the Premiere had merely been a deliberate attempt to tear off her disguise—drawing on his past knowledge and present observations—to see what was truly hiding underneath.

Besides, amid his busy work schedule, playing games like this was a decent distraction, wasn't it?

Natalie didn't answer Duke. Instead, her eyes fell to the newspaper, and her crisp voice rang out softly.

"After last weekend, Daylight's cumulative North American box office sits at $79.13 million, poised to break the $80 million mark at any moment. With a production cost of only $10 million, the film is a success by any measure."

The girl cleared her throat deliberately, as if reminding Duke to pay attention.

"But the reality is quite the opposite. The key to this film's massive sales lies squarely on the personal appeal Duke Rosenberg has built through his past successes. According to a survey by an authoritative agency, nearly half of the moviegoers only walked into the theater because of the director!"

"The quality of Daylight is absolutely not as outstanding as its box office performance suggests. It is an extremely mediocre piece of work. The film's massive sales merely confirm that Duke Rosenberg is cashing in on his own credibility. For a director, this is often the beginning of a downward slope. Audiences might foot the bill for his Daylight, but will they pay for his next terrible film...?"

Natalie Portman suddenly stopped reading, a hint of smugness flashing in her eyes as she looked up at Duke.

"This is a column by the famous film critic Roger Ebert."

"Oh..." Duke offered no reaction.

Natalie, however, had no intention of letting him off the hook.

"Any thoughts?" she asked.

Duke ignored her bait. Instead, he asked calmly, "My dear, what exactly were you hoping to see? Disappointment? Frustration? Self-pity?"

"No, I never thought that. I know full well that words like these bounce right off your thick skin!" She folded the newspaper and glared at Duke. "I just wanted to mount a counterattack! I wanted to let you know that I'm not that easy to bully!"

She stood up, tossed the newspaper at Duke, grabbed her bag, slapped a dollar bill onto the coffee table, and marched out of the cafe without looking back.

Duke blinked in surprise, then shook his head with a chuckle. It seemed he had genuinely pissed the Jewish girl off.

He took out a bill of his own, dropped it on the table, and followed Natalie out of the cafe.

The street outside was wide and quiet, completely devoid of pedestrians. Duke quickened his pace to walk shoulder to shoulder with Natalie.

"I'll call the cops," Natalie said, not even looking at him.

"Suit yourself." Duke pointed at the Bentley parked by the curb up ahead. "But I think you're mistaken about something, Nat. My car is right up there."

Natalie's face darkened.

"Are you always this rude to women?"

"No, no, Nat." Duke shook his head as they walked. "I'm usually very polite. It's just that when I'm dealing with you, I always get this urge..."

"An urge?" Natalie stopped and turned to look at Duke, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "An urge to sleep with me?"

"You misunderstand."

Duke didn't stop. He walked right past her and said lightly, "I just want to see what's truly hiding beneath that smart, calm, fame-indifferent exterior of yours."

Reaching the car, Duke pulled the door open and glanced back. "I want to see if Natalie Portman is truly any different from all the other actresses."

"Are you satisfied now?"

Duke completely ignored her question and pointed at the passenger seat.

"You didn't drive here, did you? Get in, I'll take you back."

Natalie walked over. She stood by the car and stared at Duke for a moment before shooting him a vicious glare, circling around to the other side, and yanking the passenger door open to get in.

"Home?" Duke started the engine. "Or school?"

"Left at the second intersection up ahead, then straight for a mile," Natalie said, pulling the bill of her baseball cap down to hide half her face. "I'll get out there."

Following Natalie's directions, Duke spotted her drop-off point barely five minutes later. It wasn't a school at all; no matter how you looked at it, it was a bar.

Natalie opened the door and stepped out. She turned back to look at Duke.

"Coming? I'll buy you a drink."

Glancing at the bar's sign and then back at Natalie, Duke gave a slight frown. If he remembered correctly, Natalie Portman wouldn't be eighteen until next month...

While the legal regulations on this were treated like a joke most of the time, it would definitely be a massive headache if someone decided to make an issue out of it.

The clever girl seemed to guess Duke's thoughts. She suddenly arched an eyebrow.

"If I get drunk, you can take me home."

Hearing the faint trace of seduction in her words, Duke snapped fully awake. The person standing in front of him was a girl with an incredibly complicated mind who wasn't even eighteen yet, and this was New York...

"Some other time. I might be coming back to New York next month."

By next month, she would be fully eighteen. Duke flashed a brilliant smile.

"I'll find a place then, and we can drink together. We absolutely won't stop until we're drunk."

"Sure," Natalie said, crossing her arms over her chest and arching a brow. "You have my number."

With that, she turned and walked toward the roadside bar. Her brown eyes flickered constantly, her mind clearly racing. When she reached the front of the bar, she cast a glance over her shoulder—the black Bentley had already vanished into the distance.

Natalie hadn't had the slightest intention of going inside. Changing direction, she headed down the sidewalk toward her school.

"Lucky you," she muttered.

Over the next few days, Duke maintained his necessary communications with New Zealand while remaining in New York to handle investments and stock-related matters. At the same time, he reminded his mother that if she held large amounts of the relevant stocks, she should try to exchange them for other types of investment products.

In addition, Duke met with Victoria's Secret executives twice. They reached an agreement regarding the Angel models acting in The Lord of the Rings and how to run a high-profile promotional campaign around it. Unfortunately, the Angels had flown down to Miami for a location shoot, so he missed the chance to meet the newly joined Brazilian models.

Meanwhile, the North American box office for Daylight continued its slide. Following Star Wars Prequel: The Phantom Menace, it weathered the impact of The Mummy and Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me over two consecutive weekends. Even with Duke's name listed in the director's slot, Daylight simply couldn't compete with these true commercial blockbusters.

A famous director's work was indeed more likely to attract audiences, but that couldn't bridge the massive gap in budget and genre.

If it could, the major Hollywood studios wouldn't bother with massive investments anymore. They could just toss an A-list director and some star actors together and film whatever they wanted.

By late May, after sharing the theaters with several major commercial hits for three consecutive weeks, Daylight's North American theater count had plummeted to 421. Its cumulative North American box office sat at $88.13 million, and its single-theater daily gross had dropped below $100. Inevitably, the major theater chains forced it off their screens.

In the end, Duke's experimental film pulled $88.13 million from the North American box office market.

The film had also been pushed into the overseas market, where its overall performance closely mirrored its domestic run. Across the forty-five countries and regions where it was already showing, it had raked in over $90 million. With its theatrical run still ongoing, breaking the $200 million mark globally wouldn't be difficult.