Chapter 363: Humanoid Prop

Night had fully fallen. Ivanka showered, changed into loose loungewear, and sat at the small desk by her bed. She turned off the main light, turned up the desk lamp, and opened her laptop. Waiting for the system to boot, she cupped her chin and tilted her head, staring at her own avatar on the desktop. Her eyes gradually glazed over as she drifted into deep thought.

For some reason, her first thought was to swap the desktop background for a picture of someone else. She resisted the urge, however. While they could be considered friends, they were still primarily boss and subordinate.

She shook her head vigorously, trying to throw out certain thoughts just as she had been doing lately, though with little success.

"In his eyes, you're just a fat girl," she muttered through gritted teeth, as if swearing an oath.

Ivanka forced her thoughts to shift, recalling the vague concept that had suddenly popped into her head after listening to Duke that afternoon.

Although she wasn't an IT professional, Ivanka knew the development of the internet was unstoppable. As a top student at the Wharton School of Business, she also kept an eye on the stock market. Cisco, with its core business in networking equipment, was creating miracles and myths, poised to seize the throne of the world's highest market cap at any moment.

Even if there was a bubble, and even if she faintly sensed this myth would inevitably shatter, the future development of the internet remained unstoppable.

Ivanka wasn't entirely clear on the other aspects, but the internet's information fluidity and timeliness were beyond comparison with any other media. If she had an opinion on something right now, she could easily log onto a forum or website and share her thoughts with others.

Then there was the internet's value. Ever since Tina Fey had stayed behind in North America to handle that guy's more pressing business affairs, Ivanka, as his sole personal assistant, had gained access to more of his behind-the-scenes operations and networks. She also discovered that when it came to internet operations, Duke was absolutely ahead of the entire Hollywood industry and most people in North America.

The massive success of The Matrix was in no small part a victory of internet marketing.

Especially its later imitator, The Blair Witch Project, which had leveraged the internet's influence on the public to its absolute limits.

Putting aside those bubble-filled myths on the stock market, why did the internet keep creating miracles in everyday commercial marketing?

Ivanka's thoughts grew clearer and clearer—Instant Sharing!

The fluidity and freedom of information on the internet far surpassed traditional media. As long as an individual was willing, they could publish their views online. If someone was interested in those views, they could be forwarded and spread across the web at top speed, reaching more people and even influencing them.

This was something traditional media simply could not achieve. Although the entire US boasted of free speech, given Ivanka's background, she naturally knew the media wouldn't speak for the public. The internet, which allowed people to voice their own opinions, offered a relatively higher degree of freedom...

Then, her thoughts turned to the DV she had used that afternoon. Ever since Sony Electronics pushed their compact home camcorders into the North American market, they had become wildly popular. Countless people used them to record footage of themselves, their friends, and their entire families. She had even seen a few female classmates record certain intimate moments with their boyfriends...

"This is New Zealand, and it's autumn right now. What are you thinking about, Evie? Your spring hasn't arrived yet!" Ivanka gently patted her own cheeks, hastily reeling her thoughts back.

She also liked filming clips of her life, and she understood the mindset of people who loved taking videos of themselves. They didn't shoot these things just to hide at home and admire them alone; they definitely wanted more people to see them...

A gentle knock on the door suddenly sounded, interrupting Ivanka's train of thought. She walked over, peered through the peephole, and pulled open the trailer door.

"You've been busy all afternoon. How can you skip dinner?" Duke asked, carrying a paper bag containing a few bananas and apples. "I got these from the catering truck manager."

As he spoke, he followed Ivanka into the trailer. The space inside wasn't very large; the bed and bathroom took up more than half of it. Duke had to sit at the small desk, while Ivanka sat on the edge of the bed. She took the paper bag from Duke's hands and casually set it beside her.

"I'm on a diet lately," she said.

"A diet?" Duke adjusted his chair to face her. "If I remember correctly, you're on a diet every single day out of the 365 days in a year."

"Because I need to keep my figure." Ivanka gave a playful shrug. "I want to lose weight."

Duke stood up, preparing to leave. "Your figure is perfectly fine."

"Is that so?" Ivanka arched her left eyebrow. "I remember someone saying I was broad-shouldered, thick-backed, and bloated."

"Hey, Evie." Duke raised an index finger to remind her, "Darling, I already apologized. We called a truce."

"Alright, get some rest early." Duke walked toward the door. "Tomorrow we're going fishing with Ian and Billy."

Ivanka stood up and walked Duke out of the trailer. In late January in New Zealand, the night wind carried a slight chill.

She crossed her arms over her chest, looked at Duke, and suddenly asked, "Am I thinner now than before?"

"Hmm?" Duke looked back at her in confusion.

Standing in front of the trailer door, Ivanka said, "Compared to when we met last year, I've lost ten pounds."

"Congratulations." Duke laughed. "You're only going to get prettier."

"It's not like it fits your aesthetics anyway," she muttered.

Duke crossed his arms as well. "You know my aesthetics?"

"Don't forget, I'm your personal assistant." Ivanka thought for a moment before saying directly, "Blonde or brunette, tall, slender build, long legs, and a narrow waist..."

"See you tomorrow."

Shaking his head, Duke walked toward his own trailer.

Ivanka suddenly had the urge to flip off his back. Then, she looked down at her own rather broad figure, turned around, and went back inside, slamming the door shut behind her with a bang.

Closing her laptop, Ivanka simply lay down. Seeing the paper bag on the nightstand, she fished out an apple. It had clearly been washed. Bringing it right to her lips, she took a gentle bite. The apple was both tart and sweet, seemingly reaching straight to the bottom of her heart, just like how she felt right now...

The night could not hold back the dawn forever. The sun once again climbed into the sky, and the crew welcomed a rare weekend day off. Many people were preparing to go out and explore; New Zealand's pristine natural scenery was indeed very distinct.

Two black SUVs drove out of the camp early in the morning. Duke drove, following behind Billy Boyd and Ian McKellen's car, heading toward a small nearby lake. Ivanka seemed to have slept poorly the night before. She was holding a mirror and checking her eyes, which had faint dark circles underneath.

"Insomnia?" Duke asked, pointing at her seatbelt.

Ivanka put down the mirror and buckled her seatbelt. "I ate an apple and was worried I'd gain weight, so I couldn't sleep well."

Duke turned to glance at her. To be completely honest, Ivanka wasn't fat at all; her figure was basically at the absolute limit of what was considered a healthy range. Her problem was similar to that of many Caucasian women: her natural skeletal frame was simply on the larger side. No matter how much weight she lost, she would still look tall and solidly built.

"I'm going to sleep for a bit." Ivanka adjusted herself into a more comfortable position. "Can you wake me up when we get there?"

"Of course."

The crew's camp was about twenty miles from the lake, and there were no real paved roads. Fortunately, the dirt tracks stamped out by shepherds were generally quite flat, and the SUV Duke was driving performed well enough to keep the ride relatively smooth.

Following the SUV ahead, they took several consecutive turns and drove downstream along a creek. After nearly twenty minutes of driving, they finally arrived at the edge of the lake.

"Are we there?" Ivanka opened her bleary eyes.

Duke nodded at her and was the first to hop out of the car. Stepping onto the soft grass, he went around to the back and pulled the prepared fishing gear out of the trunk. He called out to Ivanka, who was carrying the snacks and drinks, and they caught up with Billy Boyd and Ian McKellen, walking toward a small dock up ahead.

The dock was somewhat dilapidated and featured a small wooden cabin. In the lake water directly facing the cabin, a few freshly painted wooden boats were moored.

"Let's go rent two boats," Billy Boyd said to Duke. "There are incredibly delicious New Zealand trout in this lake, but they're hard to catch near the shore. We need to go out to slightly deeper water."

Duke turned his head to ask the lady's opinion.

Ivanka nodded gently. "I'll just follow you."

Hearing this, from an angle Ivanka couldn't see, Billy Boyd deliberately winked at Duke. Duke couldn't be bothered with the prankster. He and Ian McKellen strode onto the dock and quickly negotiated a price with the boat rental agent. Duke first placed their fishing gear onto the modest-sized wooden boat, then took the two large paper bags from Ivanka's hands. Once she boarded as well, he untied the mooring rope and pulled the oars. The wooden boat turned slightly and headed out toward the center of the lake.

"Hey, Duke, we won't bother you two."

The other wooden boat caught up from behind and quickly passed them. "We'll see who gets the biggest haul this afternoon!" Billy Boyd yelled as he rowed.

Duke knew how to row, but he wasn't exactly skilled at it. He could only pull the oars with cautious deliberation, keeping the boat's speed fairly slow.

Ivanka casually tidied up the cabin and said, "Let me take over."

"You know how?" Duke looked at her.

"In middle school, I used to go rowing in Central Park all the time."

As she spoke, Ivanka scooted a bit closer to him. Duke didn't stand on ceremony; careful to maintain the boat's balance, the two of them gingerly swapped seats.

Indeed, Ivanka was much more practiced than he was. The wooden boat gradually picked up speed and quickly distanced itself from the shore.

Reaching a patch of water over a hundred feet from the shore, the boat slowly rolled to a stop. Ivanka leisurely adjusted their position while Duke opened the bag of fishing gear, pulled out the rods and bait, and prepared to see if he could hook a mermaid.