"Hey! Rupert! Over here!"
"Oh—come on—why are you dressed so formally? Don't tell me you rushed over straight from the office?"
"My god, dressed like that and you still want to buy me a drink? Fine, today's expenses are on me!"
"Rupert, you picked the perfect day to come. I specially prepared some entertainment for myself today. I was planning to enjoy it alone, but now—lucky you, hahaha!"
Four hours later, the afternoon of August 8, 2005.
Rupert Murdoch arrived in the state of Rhode Island.
This was the smallest state in the U.S. by area, and the second most densely populated, second only to New Jersey.
Because it was very close to New York, just a bit over two hours by car, and because of its pleasant environment and beautiful scenery, sitting on a peninsula and nicknamed "the Ocean State," after years of development, it had gradually become a private backyard for America's wealthy elite.
Seaside mansions were everywhere. The most famous one was called The Breakers, located on a steep cliff only thirty feet above sea level, once the private property of the railroad tycoon Vanderbilt family.
At the moment, Rupert Murdoch was at a manor Ted Turner had purchased more than a decade earlier.
A warm handshake.
A brief hug.
Then Ted Turner ushered Rupert Murdoch inside.
Although the summer sun was scorching, neither of them cared. After picking out some treasured bottles from the wine cellar, they headed to the manor's private dock. Before even boarding the boat, the fragrant breeze alone made both men smile.
Ted Turner raised his hand in invitation, familiar and casual. Rupert Murdoch spread his arms without ceremony.
Surrounded by several blonde women, the chairman of News Corporation boarded the yacht and disappeared into the changing room.
About ten minutes later, wrapped in a white bathrobe, he stepped onto the deck.
By then, the yacht had already started up, charging freely across the deep blue sea.
"Oh~~~"
The oncoming sea wind made Ted Turner let out a strange cry.
The next second, holding a drink and wearing sunglasses, he tilted his head toward Murdoch and said with a grin, "If I remember correctly, Rupert, you're a few years older than me, right?"
"So just now—"
"You didn't sit in the changing room for fifteen minutes before coming out, did you?"
"Oh—Ted—your mouth is just as filthy as it was decades ago," Rupert Murdoch cursed with a smile. "Back then, when you insulted me, I wanted to rip your mouth apart. Now? I want to do it even more."
"Hahahahaha!"
Ted Turner laughed loudly.
He raised his glass and gently swirled it.
Murdoch, who knew the drill, didn't hesitate. He grabbed a wine glass from the bar and lightly clinked it against Turner's.
Clink—
Both men tilted their heads back at the same time.
The next second, Ted Turner snapped his fingers behind him.
The blonde women in bikinis waiting at the deck entrance immediately stepped forward, bringing over fruit and snacks that had already been prepared.
Even with waves rolling, someone brought out instruments and began to play music.
Ted Turner and Rupert Murdoch had history.
Their feud could be traced back to 1983.
That year, both men participated in a sailing competition in Australia. Ted Turner personally took the helm, while Rupert Murdoch participated as a sponsor.
During the race, a sailboat sponsored by Murdoch collided with the one Turner himself was piloting.
Although the accident wasn't serious and caused no casualties, Turner's boat ran aground 6.2 miles from the finish line due to the collision, which infuriated him.
At the post-race dinner that evening, Turner verbally attacked Murdoch.
The two then started trading insults.
They even agreed to hold a nationally televised boxing match in Las Vegas.
Which, in the end, never happened.
Yes, rich people challenging each other to fights has been a thing for a long time.
Even though the two had bad blood—
There are no eternal friends, and no eternal enemies, only eternal interests.
As long as their interests aligned at a certain moment, they could eat meat by the mouthful and drink wine by the gallon.
And right now—
After fooling around with Turner for a bit, Murdoch waved off the blonde woman who was about to pour him another drink.
That gesture made Turner snort softly and lift his chin.
The women on deck immediately withdrew.
"There's no one here. Say whatever you want."
Leaning back on the soft sofa, Ted Turner spoke lazily. "Rupert, I've known you for many years. I know your temperament. If nothing was wrong, you'd never come looking for me. So—getting annoyed by Hannah Montana?"
"Yeah. Another one of my projects got sniped by Isabella."
Murdoch didn't beat around the bush. He nodded and sighed. "So—help me out?"
"What do you want me to help you with?" Ted Turner asked.
"I don't know." Murdoch shook his head.
"Huh?"
Ted Turner was startled. "Rupert! You're joking, right?"
"I'm not joking, Ted. I'm genuinely lost right now."
Murdoch looked at Ted Turner seriously.
The helplessness on his face made Turner drop his smile.
Yes.
Even though Murdoch really wanted to crush Isabella right now, he had absolutely no idea how.
No choice. He'd made the wrong move last year. He was stuck in a passive position now.
When Isabella's acquisition of Resident Evil couldn't be used as a weapon against her;
When Isabella acted cautiously and left very little scandal behind;
In Murdoch's eyes, Isabella at this moment was simply flawless.
And that, in fact, was the key reason he'd come to Ted Turner.
He felt he needed a strong ally who could think.
And honestly—
When Ted Turner realized Murdoch had no plan at all for attacking Isabella, he quietly breathed a sigh of relief.
Because he'd already spent a massive amount of time, energy, and money trying to win Isabella over.
He didn't want to move against her at all right now.
When he got Murdoch's call, he'd actually felt pretty annoyed.
So now, Murdoch saying he had no ideas?
Perfect.
"Oh—Rupert—I completely understand how you're feeling right now," Ted Turner said hypocritically. "I really want to help you, but to be honest, I don't have any ideas either."
Murdoch didn't doubt him.
After all, ever since Turner maneuvered the merger of Turner Broadcasting and Time Warner, he'd been getting slapped around by Barry Meyer nonstop.
If this guy couldn't even beat Barry Meyer, asking him to figure out how to deal with Isabella, who was being protected jointly by Barry Meyer and Robert Iger?
That really was asking too much.
Yes, deep down, Murdoch actually looked down on Ted Turner.
Back then, when Turner decided to formally enter Hollywood, he had plenty of choices. He could've acquired Universal from Matsushita, which wanted out of the U.S. market, or taken over Paramount, which its backers had abandoned.
But he didn't.
Instead, he embraced the endlessly troubled Time Warner.
In Murdoch's eyes, that choice was unbelievably stupid.
Sure, merging with Time Warner made Turner's empire bigger.
But what's the point of conquering territory if you can't hold onto it?
Still, none of that mattered right now.
Because—
"Ted, can you still get any useful information out of Warner?"
"Uh—I don't hold any specific executive position anymore, and I've never really put my hands into Warner's operations—"
"But you're still on the board, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am, but what good does that do?" Turner shrugged and smiled bitterly. "Right now, the chairman of Time Warner is Richard Parsons from the Rockefeller family, and the CEO is Jeffrey Bewkes from the Warner side."
"When they both have powerful backers, does my board seat even matter?"
"And honestly, Jeffrey Bewkes is currently trying to gradually replace my people inside Turner Broadcasting, and he also wants to kick Steve Case out of AOL. When none of us can even control our own companies—"
"Hey…"
Ted Turner sighed.
That helpless look made endless contempt rise in Murdoch's heart.
"Useless."
He cursed quietly to himself.
Murdoch had come looking for a teammate.
So when he realized Ted Turner couldn't help him, he didn't want to stay any longer.
After some small talk and saying he still had things to take care of, he prepared to leave.
Ted Turner understood immediately and contacted the captain to return.
After saying goodbye to Turner and getting into the car for the trip back, Murdoch felt restless and irritated.
Watching the taillights fade into the distance, Ted Turner, on the other hand, was in a great mood. Hands in his pockets, he headed back to the manor.
Humming to himself, he muttered internally, "Someone like you wants to be my teammate?"
Once he returned to the hall and collapsed onto the sofa, he felt it was time to push Carl Icahn a bit.
Yes.
Although Carl Icahn had said as early as last month that he would sell his Marvel shares to them, no formal transaction had happened yet.
Previously, Ted Turner hadn't been in a rush, because Icahn had indeed introduced Marvel shareholders who had a concerted action agreement with him to Turner and Steve Case.
But now—
He was getting a little anxious.
Because he wanted to officially embrace Time Warner.
And give a certain loser named Rupert Murdoch a surprise.
Cough.
Competitors are natural enemies, after all.
Murdoch looked down on him. Did that mean he truly, deep down, thought Murdoch was impressive?
How could that be possible?
However, just as he was smiling broadly and dialing Carl Icahn's number, planning to give that guy who had dared to ram his sailboat decades ago a "surprise," Carl Icahn's response made his expression change instantly.
"Still need to wait?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because Marvel's internal situation is also a mess right now."
From Ted Turner's phone came the Wolf King's helpless voice. "Some shareholders want to replace Marvel's CEO, Avi Arad. Since everyone involved is a friend, it wouldn't be appropriate for me to sell my shares to you at this moment."
Hearing this, Ted Turner frowned deeply.
At that moment, he felt something was off somewhere, but—
"So how long will Marvel's war last?"
"Oh, Ted, I'm more anxious than you are, alright?"
Carl Icahn said, "Don't worry. Before the annual report comes out, even if they're still fighting, I'll complete the deal with you."
…Fine.
Ted Turner fell silent.
Carl Icahn had already shown them his shareholding. So when the Carl Icahn was clearly unable to back out, Ted Turner believed him. And that belief made him clench his right hand and slam it into the armrest of the sofa.
"Damn it! Why do I suddenly feel like things have gotten complicated?"
At this moment, Ted Turner's mood began to rain, just like Rupert Murdoch's.
And while they were both trapped in frustration, someone else was laughing happily.
"Oh, Isa, I'm pretty sure now that Kevin Feige genuinely wants to side with you."
Barry Meyer was on the phone with Isabella. "I'm certain now that Ted Turner and Steve Case are working with Carl Icahn. They want to break up Time Warner and kick me out of the company."
"And they also want to pull you in and be friends with you."
Although Isabella was quite curious about where Barry Meyer had gotten this information—
Ignorance is bliss.
She didn't feel like asking right now.
After clearing her throat lightly, she crouched on the tip of a hill and looked down at the set below. She was still filming Goblet of Fire. This production really did take forever. At the moment, the crew was shooting the final task of the Triwizard Tournament, searching for the Triwizard Cup inside a hedge maze. For this scene, Columbus had actually had a real maze built.
Watching figures dart around in the thorn-filled field, Harry bouncing about like a monkey made Isabella laugh.
"So, Barry, did you call me just to tell me this?"
"Don't you want to share with me your method for dealing with Ted Turner and Steve Case?"
"Oh~ Isa~ you're right."
A cheerful voice came from the phone. "I do want to share my method for dealing with Ted Turner and Steve Case, but unfortunately, because the plan is too large, I can only apologize for now."
"When it's over, you'll naturally know my method."
"Believe me, I will definitely win."
Honestly, at this moment, Isabella felt like Barry Meyer was an old general on a stage, covered in planted flags.
He thought he would definitely win?
By the logic of joy preceding sorrow, that usually meant he was very likely to lose.
And the more complicated the plan, the higher the chance of failure.
Still, Isabella wasn't about to pour cold water on someone who was happy, especially when that person was her ally.
So she wished Barry Meyer success.
After chatting a bit more, she hung up and handed the phone to her older sister with a bored expression.
At this moment, she truly felt—
"Keisha."
"Hm?"
"Don't you think the adult world, full of fighting, is incredibly boring?"
"Oh—kind of—but it's more exhausting—mentally exhausting—"
Catherine, crouching beside her little sister, nodded.
Staring at the filming site below, enjoying the rare moment of elevated leisure she'd gotten by stepping out to take a call, she spoke freely. "Today someone wants to harm you. Tomorrow someone wants to kill you. The day after that someone wants to recruit you, but there's a trap behind that recruitment—God—just thinking about it is tiring—"
"Yeah~ so I'm kind of regretting things now."
Isabella smiled, tilted her head, rested her hands on her knees, and laid her head on her arms like stacked blocks. "If I'd known taking Harry Potter would bring this much trouble, I wouldn't have gone to Leavesden back then—"
"Oh—come on—even if you could do it over, you'd still choose Harry Potter—"
Catherine understood what her little sister meant.
Isabella just felt the difficulty level of life was too high right now.
But if she hadn't chosen this timeline back then—
"If you hadn't gone to Leavesden, how would you have handled things at home?"
Catherine turned her head and raised an eyebrow at her. "Everything was the best choice, wasn't it?"
"Oh~~~~ that's true—"
Isabella's voice jumped an octave.
Just like Catherine said, she had embraced Hermione Granger back then because her family had no money. If she hadn't embraced Hermione Granger, what else could she have done? Watch her mother pretend everything was fine while slowly falling into the abyss?
Since everything was the best arrangement—
"Isa? Where are you?"
As Isabella was lost in thought, Chris Columbus's voice suddenly reached her ears.
At that moment, he was holding a megaphone and scanning the area. Seeing this, Isabella stood up and headed down the hill.
She waved to her sister. "Let's go, let's go~ back to work~"
To be honest, Isabella really wanted to know Barry Meyer's plan as soon as possible, and even more wanted to know the outcome of that war which hadn't even started yet but was already filled with smoke.
But unfortunately—
Many things don't move faster just because people are eager.
And while Isabella felt like she was counting seconds each day as she listened to the news after waking up, the female lead of Hannah Montana, Elizabeth Olsen, was grinning ear to ear, looking a bit like a clueless big sister.
"Hey~ Elly~ I told you you'd blow up, didn't I?"
"Hannah Montana's viewership on the Disney Channel has stabilized at 11.5 million! That's basically a miracle!"
"And what's even more insane is that the TV soundtrack sold 1.5 million copies in its first week!"
"Oh—I'd bet you'll be the hottest girl this year, no exceptions!"
"Even for the entire first decade of the new century, I think you'd rank top two!"
California.
Venice.
Olsen was throwing a party with a few friends at a luxury house under her older sister's name.
Amid the pounding music, a blonde white girl gave her a thumbs-up.
The blatant flattery made her laugh loudly.
The comment also sparked curiosity from someone nearby.
"Why can Elly only rank top two in the first decade of the new century?"
"With her current results, shouldn't she be number one?"
"Hannah Montana's soundtrack debuted directly on the Billboard weekly sales chart!"
"Only someone like Isabella, with her absurdly dominant presence, could suppress that, okay?"
"That's because Isabella debuted in 2000, not 1999!" someone else cut in with a disdainful pout. "Even though Philosopher's Stone came out five years ago, it's 2005 now!"
"Isabella is amazing, but—wow—she won't even turn 16 until early next year!"
As soon as those words landed, the previously curious person's mouth fell open.
It wasn't that she'd forgotten about Isabella during the comparison. She'd mentioned her already. It was just that, in her mind, Isabella, who dominated film, TV, music, and variety shows, felt like she'd been famous for an entire century.
And now—
You're telling me she's only 15???
That's just—absurd—
"Oh—sorry—I forgot about that. In my impression, she's been famous forever."
The curious, fast-talking girl looked embarrassed.
"It's fine~"
The blonde girl who had praised Olsen first waved her hand dismissively.
"Elly won't mind. After all, Isabella is her boss."
"Hahahahaha~~~"
The villa burst into laughter.
On the surface, they were laughing about Olsen working for someone else.
But in reality—
Everyone's eyes were filled with envy.
Even though Olsen's background was already strong. Her two sisters were basically Walt Disney replicas, turning child stardom into business, turning their names into IPs. Born in 1986, they already had fortunes of 600 million by the time they were 18. That meant Olsen, only three years younger, was born holding a golden spoon in the entertainment industry.
But—
No matter how strong her sisters were, they weren't as strong as Isabella.
Even though Forbes had never reported Isabella's personal wealth, who in the industry didn't know that just from the Harry Potter series alone, Isabella was already richer than the Olsen sisters at the same stage? And once The Voice became her own IP, the annual cash she earned surpassed the Olsen sisters' net worth.
Latching onto someone like that was no different from being kissed by God.
So—
Even if everyone was close to Olsen, claiming there was no jealousy at all would be a lie.
Thinking about how Olsen had already cleared every checkpoint from debut to explosive fame, someone raised a glass with mixed feelings.
"Oh~ today is Elly's celebration party, so let's not talk about anything else, okay?"
"Come on~ I suggest we all raise a glass to celebrate Elly's hit show and blockbuster album~"
The sudden proposal earned widespread agreement.
As glasses clinked together, the clear ding sparked joyful cheers.
"Cheers."