Tycoon Actor C523 (Patreon)

The offer from WB was too tempting to ignore. Even Neil was pushing Lucas to seriously consider it. But there's no such thing as a free lunch—especially not from a major studio.

They needed details. Why the hell would Warner Bros. offer equity in their company to an actor?

That's what Neil wanted to find out. He was meeting with the CEO, Tobias, to get answers.

At a high-end restaurant in Burbank, Neil sat in a private dining room, checking his watch and tapping away on his laptop while he waited.

Around 11 AM, Tobias finally walked in. Neil stood immediately, and they exchanged formal greetings before settling into their seats.

Business first.

"I'm guessing Lucas has thought about the offer?" Tobias asked carefully.

Neil held up a hand. "Personally, I want him to take it. But Lucas thinks the timing's weird. He's cautious—and honestly, so am I. It's not every day an actor gets offered equity in a major studio."

He wasn't wrong. Equity deals like this were rare. George Lucas had negotiated merchandising rights and backend points on Star Wars, which made him a billionaire. Tom Cruise had gotten backend deals on Mission: Impossible and Top Gun that netted him hundreds of millions. But outright equity stakes in a studio? That was a different level entirely.

And anytime something sounds too good to be true, it usually is.

Tobias nodded. "I understand."

Just then, a server arrived with a bottle of wine, pouring glasses for both of them. Another server brought out their meals—grilled salmon for Neil, steak for Tobias.

They waited until the servers left before continuing.

"There are reasons the board agreed to this," Tobias said, his tone serious. "It wasn't an easy decision. This is important."

Neil straightened in his chair. For a CEO to put it like that meant this was a bigger deal than they'd thought.

"The company agreed to offer Mr. Knight a stake partly because we want him more closely tied to Warner Bros.," Tobias said. "Specifically, we want him more involved with our streaming service—HBO Max."

Neil could understand that much. Everyone wanted Lucas more involved with their projects. He was a global superstar who drew massive attention. But even then, offering equity felt extreme.

"For what reason?" Neil asked. "You need Lucas to do more deals with you because of his fame?"

Tobias chuckled. "Mostly, yes. We need his star power right now. In Hollywood, if you say Lucas Knight is the most profitable actor, no one's going to argue with you. It's a fact."

He continued. "But it's not just his fame. Lucas has an incredible reputation with the public. His humanitarian work, the LK Foundation—people feel like when they support Lucas, they're also helping others. That's powerful. That's the kind of image we want associated with Warner Bros."

Neil nodded, listening.

Tobias took a sip of wine and set the glass down. "So offering him a stake isn't generosity. It's strategy. Having Lucas on our side changes how people see this company."

"Is that really all?" Neil asked, still skeptical.

"Not just that." Tobias leaned forward slightly. "We also believe Lucas can help our streaming platform the way he's helped Netflix."

Neil blinked. "Netflix?"

"As you know, Lucas has been instrumental in Netflix's success. The original content they've produced—Stranger Things, Squid Game, and others—Lucas was involved in those projects. He invested in them, helped develop them, and somehow, they all became massive hits." Tobias paused. "We want that same support for HBO Max."

Neil couldn't believe what he was hearing. A company as big as Warner Bros. was offering Lucas equity just for that? It sounded insane. But here they were.

It was a testament to how far Lucas had come.

"You do know the reason Lucas helps Netflix is because he's a shareholder, right?" Neil said. "He has skin in the game."

"Of course I know," Tobias said with a confident smile. "That's why we're offering him equity. We just need him to help us the way he's helped Netflix. And if he wants to convert his payment for Joker 2 or Dune into additional equity instead of cash, we're open to that too."

The offer was incredibly generous. The stake WB was offering wasn't massive—maybe worth around $30 million at current valuation—but it was essentially free money. And if Lucas converted his acting fees into equity? That could add another $20-30 million depending on the deal structure. For an actor, that kind of backend potential was rare and valuable. If WB's streaming division grew, Lucas's stake could be worth significantly more down the line.

"I'll definitely talk to Lucas about this," Neil said, doing his best to hide how excited he was.

"Good. We're in no rush," Tobias said, cutting into his steak.

Neil cleared his throat. "I still don't get it, though. Why are you guys being so generous with Lucas all of a sudden?"

Tobias blinked. "We've been generous with Lucas from the start, haven't we?"

Neil paused. That was true. From the beginning of Lucas's career, he'd had a solid relationship with WB's former CEO, Barry Meyer. Meyer had even greenlit Lucas's experimental Joker script, which turned into a billion-dollar hit.

That film cemented Lucas's connection with the studio. And after that, it had been nothing but good deals between them.

In fact, Meyer had even supported Lucas against his own influential father—Vince Knight, a director working for WB behind the scenes.

Without WB, Lucas wouldn't have had such a smooth career.

"And honestly," Tobias added, his tone shifting, "our company hasn't been doing great over the past few years."

Neil's eyes widened. "What? Barbie did well. You've had successful shows and movies."

Tobias shook his head. "Overall, we've been declining. A few hits from Lucas aren't enough to turn the tide." He sighed. "If it weren't for streaming, our revenue would be in serious trouble. And then there was the 2018 pandemic. It hit us hard. People stayed home and watched movies instead of going to theaters."

Neil processed that quietly. Lucas might've helped the world get early vaccines and recover faster from the pandemic, but businesses had still been affected. Not as badly as in his previous life, but the damage was real.

After finishing their meal and wrapping up the conversation, they said their goodbyes. Neil hurried to his car and headed straight to Lucas.

This was something they needed to discuss immediately.

---

At the Bel Air mansion, Neil recounted everything to Lucas.

"They're going this far just so I can help them?" Lucas couldn't quite believe his ears.

"Yeah. I honestly kind of understand why they're so confident about you, but at the same time, they're trusting you way too much. This decision could either help them or completely bite them in the ass." Neil sounded exasperated, unusually blunt even in front of Lucas. "No offense to you, but they're really putting way too much faith in this."

Lucas felt the same. "No, you're right." He paused. "How can they be so confident I'll turn their situation around just because I helped Netflix with streaming?"

Netflix in this world was too established. They had the advantage from the start and dominated the market. And Disney? While they had similar struggles to WB, they had a massive content library—Marvel, Star Wars, Pixar—and a steady stream of new content keeping them afloat.

WB relied too heavily on their old catalog. Sure, they had Joker (2016), Elvis, and Barbie, but that barely competed with the big players.

No wonder they were desperate to get Joker 2 made. They wanted to attract new subscribers and build up their content library.

But in Lucas's opinion, that alone wouldn't be enough to compete.

At least in this timeline, WB seemed to be taking streaming more seriously. In his previous life, they'd half-assed HBO Max—unlike Disney+, which went all-in on original content and platform development.

'In my previous life, WB didn't even prioritize international markets until 2023,' Lucas thought. 'By then, they were already way behind.'

"What do you think?" Neil asked. "Should you accept and help them develop their streaming?"

Lucas tapped his fingers on the armrest, thinking. 'The studio really helped me a lot. Most of my major movies were with WB. I owe Meyer too, even if it was mutually beneficial.'

After a moment, he said, "Accept it. But I'm not taking things for free. I'm willing to buy additional stock in WB since I'm already getting involved."

Neil looked surprised. "Are you sure? You already heard they're not doing well. Tobias told me they're carrying serious debt." Even he had been taken aback when he heard that. He'd been so busy managing Lucas's career that he hadn't kept up with major business developments.

Actually, most people didn't. The average person lived their lives without knowing that some of the companies they were familiar with were struggling behind the scenes.

"It doesn't matter," Lucas said, smiling. "Besides, if I'm gonna help, I can't half-ass it." He paused. "Also, for the equity deal—in exchange, they can have exclusive rights to my world tour for their streaming platform."

Neil's jaw dropped. "What? Why!?" He leaned forward, voice rising. "Netflix and Disney+ are offering $30 to $50 million for streaming rights to the tour. There's even a strong possibility of pushing it to $80-90 million! And that's not even including the documentary, behind-the-scenes content, and everything else!"

It was a massive deal. In the future, Taylor Swift's Eras Tour would be offered $75 million just for streaming rights. Lucas's tour could easily command the same or more.

In short, Lucas was passing up a fortune out of loyalty to WB.

"Well, if I'll have a stake in it, might as well support it," Lucas chuckled, not being particularly practical right now.

"You also have a stake in Netflix!" Neil felt a headache coming on. "No, you know what? I'm renegotiating the equity deal. Since it's not gonna be free anymore, I'm asking them to increase it now that you're offering world tour rights."

Usually, a decision like this wouldn't fall on Lucas alone. His agency, IAA—the agency that had become a powerhouse thanks to Lucas and now attracted top talent—would normally have a say.

But the agency gave Lucas full control of his decisions. They couldn't afford to piss off their biggest star, the one who'd launched them into the big leagues.

Even the CEO of the agency didn't have that kind of freedom.

"It's up to you," Lucas said with a smile. He was already thinking about how he could help Warner.

In his previous life, they'd done the live-action adaptation of The Last of Us, and it had been a massive success. They'd had a few other popular shows too.

But compared to Netflix and Disney, it wasn't enough. Especially with WB's half-assed approach to streaming.

'Since I'll have a stake in the company, it's not unreasonable to help them gain some ground in the streaming industry,' he thought.

Now that he was really thinking about it, Warner had handled their major franchises poorly. Honestly, in Lucas's opinion, Warner had a bigger advantage over Netflix and Disney when it came to IP.

They had Harry Potter, DC Comics, Game of Thrones, The Lord of the Rings, The Matrix, Dune—massive franchises with built-in audiences. Netflix had to build everything from scratch with original content. Disney had Marvel and Star Wars, sure, but Warner's library was just as strong, if not stronger in some areas.

The problem was execution. Warner kept licensing their advantages to Netflix instead of making them exclusive to HBO Max. It wasn't entirely their fault—licensing deals brought in guaranteed revenue. But it also meant they were strengthening their competition. And when they did try to launch original content, they were inconsistent. They'd cancel shows too quickly, rebrand constantly, and confuse audiences. No clear strategy.

"How much stock are you planning to buy?" Neil sighed, seeing there was no stopping Lucas. Initially, he'd been thrilled about Warner offering equity to Lucas. But now it felt like a bad deal—at least for the world tour.

"Maybe $200 or $300 million?" Lucas said it like he wasn't entirely sure. Like he wasn't talking about a fortune.

Neil gasped. "That much?" He knew Lucas was rich, but this was extreme. "You're still recovering from buying Twitter for $12 billion. And now you're casually gonna drop hundreds of millions on stock?"

Lucas smiled. "I bought Twitter in 2018. After a while, I recovered a lot. Twitter's been profitable, and my net worth is around $30 billion." He didn't mention his other investments.

This was 2020. If he wasn't wrong, Tesla stock was about to skyrocket. And he had significant holdings there.

That $30 billion could easily jump to $60-70 billion by late 2020 or early 2021.

So it didn't matter if he was being generous now. His wealth was going to increase significantly. He could take out loans for hundreds of millions to buy Warner stock and simultaneously increase funding for his foundation.

The humanitarian in him wouldn't rest, though he was managing his wealth carefully. He owned stakes in Uber, UberEats, Airbnb, trusted crypto trading apps, and Bitcoin—which was also going to explode in value in the future. Then there were mobile game companies, and more.

His strategy was simple: stay a billionaire to multiply money and help more people. The more wealth he accumulated, the more he could funnel into the LK Foundation and global humanitarian efforts. It was a cycle—build wealth, give back, build more wealth, give back more.

He wondered if he could become the richest person on earth while not entirely selling his soul to money. Could he use that wealth for a better cause?

After discussing Warner with Neil, Lucas shifted topics. "There's something else I want to talk about. The Cerrado in Brazil—it's being threatened by deforestation and agricultural expansion. I'm planning to buy a significant portion of it so it can be protected."

The Cerrado was one of the world's most biodiverse savannas, often called the "inverted forest" because of its deep root systems. It was home to thousands of species, many of them endangered. But it was also being destroyed at an alarming rate—faster than the Amazon in some areas—due to soybean farming and cattle ranching. If something wasn't done, it would be gone within decades.

Lucas had the resources to buy land, establish conservation reserves, and work with local communities to protect it. It was a massive undertaking, but it was necessary.

Neil nodded slowly. "That's... that's a good thing, Lucas. A really good thing. You're doing humanity a favor."

But even as he said it, Neil's mind was already elsewhere. As Lucas's manager, he still felt it was his responsibility to make sure Warner increased their equity offer. Lucas was giving them the world tour—an asset worth tens of millions of dollars. The least WB could do was sweeten the deal.

---

The next few days, Neil was locked in negotiations with WB. Meanwhile, Lucas returned to recording at Electric Lady Studios once things had calmed down outside.

He usually recorded at his home studio, but for the world tour material, he needed Electric Lady's superior acoustics and professional-grade equipment.

His home setup was fine for demos and rough cuts, but for tracks that would be performed in stadiums and arenas worldwide, he needed the precision mixing and mastering that only a place like Electric Lady could provide. Plus, Lee's team knew his sound better than anyone—they'd been working together for over a decade.

With Lee and the engineers, everything went smooth as butter.

Two weeks later, Neil finally closed the deal with WB. They agreed to $85 million in equity for Lucas in exchange for exclusive world tour streaming rights.

Neil was satisfied with it, even though Netflix had actually been willing to offer $100 million. But Neil decided not to dwell on it. As Lucas's manager, it still hurt a little inside.

And news like this didn't stay quiet for long. A deal this big spread fast.

Variety: "Warner Bros. Discovery Lands Lucas Knight World Tour Rights in Massive $85M Equity Deal"

Hollywood Reporter: "Lucas Knight Takes Stake in WB Discovery, Grants Exclusive Streaming Rights to Upcoming World Tour"

Deadline: "Unprecedented Deal: Lucas Knight Becomes WB Discovery Shareholder in Exchange for Tour Content"

People were stunned. They didn't expect world tour rights—for a tour that hadn't even started yet—to fetch that kind of money.

They were even more shocked when reports surfaced that Netflix and Disney had offered better deals, but Lucas had chosen Warner anyway.

The two streaming giants couldn't understand it. Was it because of the equity? If they'd known that mattered to him, they would've offered the same. But the deal was done.

Meanwhile, Lucas met with Tobias at WB headquarters. The executives greeted him warmly, all smiles.

Just the news of Lucas taking a stake in the company had caused their stock to tick upward. Not by much, but enough to be noticeable.

Then they moved into a conference room to discuss streaming strategy.

The more Lucas heard about their plans, the more he understood why they were falling behind.

"If we want a real place in the industry, we need to focus on streaming and handle our IP library way better," Lucas said. "Right now, you're licensing out your best content to competitors. That needs to stop. Make everything exclusive to Max. Build a content slate that people can't get anywhere else. And don't cancel shows after one season—give them time to build audiences. Netflix succeeds because they commit to their originals. You need to do the same."

Tobias and the other executives leaned forward, listening intently.

"I also have some ideas for original content," Lucas added.

Everyone's interest was immediately piqued.

Lucas smiled. "In terms of production infrastructure, you still have a massive advantage. You've got Warner Bros. Studios, you've got experienced showrunners, and you've got a games division. I suggest we start by making live-action adaptations of popular video games."

"Video games?" Tobias looked confused.

The others shared his puzzlement. Most of them were older executives who didn't have much knowledge of gaming beyond the fact that Warner owned WB Games. They'd maybe heard of EA.

"What kind of games?" someone asked.

Lucas leaned back. "There are video games out there with incredible stories. Stories that would translate really well to TV. In fact, you might not know this, but Netflix's Stranger Things was heavily inspired by video games—Silent Hill and Beyond: Two Souls. The atmosphere, the alternate dimension, the horror elements. And the girl with psychic powers being experimented on, government conspiracies..."

Silent Hill had that same eerie, small-town dread that Stranger Things captured. The Upside Down was basically the Otherworld from Silent Hill. And Beyond: Two Souls had a girl with supernatural abilities connected to another entity, dealing with secret government programs—sound familiar?

Hearing Lucas mention Stranger Things, Tobias and the other executives sat up straighter, eyes lighting up. This was exactly what they'd been hoping for—the Lucas Knight touch, the Midas effect in action.

"There's The Witcher, The Last of Us, Fallout—all of these have massive fanbases and rich storytelling," Lucas continued. "They're proven IP with built-in audiences. And there are also comic book properties outside of DC that are underutilized. The Boys, Invincible, Saga—stuff like that."

In his previous life, Prime Video had capitalized on exactly this strategy—adapting video games and indie comics into hit shows.

But in this world, maybe Lucas could hand that advantage to Warner Brothers instead.