My Life in Hollywood C36 A Deal With The Devil Part 1 (Patreon)

After some small talk and introductions, Marcus settled in at the table. There were various dishes laid out—sushi, tempura, some other stuff. He wasn't particularly a sushi guy—more into Kobe beef—but he didn't hate it either.

"Hey, you know I don't like coconut water with the coconut meat floating in it."

Marcus turned to see Jefferson complaining to Douglass, showing him his glass.

"Oh, did I forget?" Douglass laughed lightly.

"You did it on purpose," Jefferson grumbled. This was apparently their normal dynamic, even back when Douglass was still in the States.

"You got no proof," Douglass said, looking smug.

"Tsk." Jefferson couldn't argue and just drank it anyway, silently grimacing as the coconut chunks hit his tongue. For him, coconut water by itself was already perfect. But adding the actual coconut meat ruined the clean taste. Made it feel slightly bitter and gave it this weird pulpy texture that stuck in your throat.

"So, kid," Douglass said while munching on sushi. "I heard a lot about you from Jefferson. You made a movie and it was a big success?"

Marcus flinched slightly—not because of the question, but because there was a Japanese woman behind Douglass massaging his back like he was some kind of modern-day emperor.

"Yeah. I turned fifteen grand into millions," Marcus said, making it clear he wasn't someone to be looked down on.

Because from Douglass's body language, it was obvious he saw Marcus as just a kid. Which, technically, he was. But the whole setup—the casual dismissiveness, the power play—it was a negotiation tactic. Trying to get the upper hand before they even started talking business.

"You really are your father's son," Douglass said, nodding like he was impressed—though his tone said otherwise. "It's impressive you got that filmmaking talent from him." He paused. "I just hope you don't end up like him. Rising for a bit, then falling flat on your face. Hahaha."

He said it lightly, like it wasn't a big deal.

Marcus furrowed his brows. He'd been noticing this guy had some kind of grudge against his dad.

"Did my dad do something to you?" Marcus got straight to the point. Partly because he was curious. Partly because it was annoying to watch someone close to you get mocked like this.

"Oh, you noticed?" Douglass snorted, glancing at Jefferson. "Seems like this guy didn't tell you yet?"

"Tell me what?" Marcus raised an eyebrow. He turned to Jefferson, who wouldn't look him in the eye.

"Well, since my good friend won't say it, I will," Douglass said with a grin. "Your dad owes me big time. He promised me the world. Told me how he was gonna make it huge in Hollywood, on and on and on. And foolish me? I believed him."

Marcus stayed quiet, listening.

"And that damn old bastard screwed it up," Douglass said bitterly. "The thirty million I invested in him? Burned up on that godforsaken hill called Hollywood." His voice had real edge now. "It might not sound like much to me now, but back then? My other investments hadn't paid out yet. I had to take out bank loans just to cover what I'd already put in!"

He gritted his teeth. "If those investments I made years earlier hadn't finally hit, I would've been totally screwed."

Marcus didn't know what to say. Losing thirty million dollars? Anyone would be bitter. No wonder this guy had beef with his dad. Hell, even Marcus, as his son, would've had the same reaction.

"You get it?" Douglass looked at him hard. "Your dad went bankrupt, filed for protection, settled his debts for pennies on the dollar, and moved on. Meanwhile, I had to pay for his mess."

He still remembered the day Nathan had sweet-talked him—promising Hollywood money and Hollywood women.

"Why blame anyone?" Jefferson spoke up, looking at Douglass. "The moment you invest money into something, you know the risk. You can't blame anyone but bad luck."

"I know. I get that," Douglass said with a nod. Then he looked at Marcus. "But considering you guys came here to ask me to invest in a company made by the son of the guy who lost my money? Of course I'm gonna be cautious. I'm just making it clear—money is very important to me."

Marcus couldn't tell if Douglass was using this old grudge to gain leverage in the negotiation, or if he was genuinely still bitter. Maybe both. The guy was hard to read.

"But I'm not my father," Marcus said clearly. "I'm not dumping money into some overly ambitious vanity project. My business model is clear and profitable."

Douglass's eyes sharpened. "Oh yeah? How's it any different from the money-burning machine called Hollywood?" He leaned forward. "You know, I learned a lot from Nathan's failure. I'm way more cautious now when it comes to anything in 'entertainment.'"

Entertainment. That's what Netflicks was, at its core. A startup in the entertainment industry.

"You know, kid, the riskiest investment isn't biotech or real estate speculation," Douglass said, dabbing his lips with a napkin. "It's entertainment. Because you're not betting on a product—you're betting on whether people will like something. And taste? That's impossible to predict."

"I agree entertainment is risky," Marcus said, an edge of confidence in his tone. "But my company isn't just entertainment. It's changing how people consume it. People already spend money going to the movies every month—ten, twenty bucks a pop. We're offering them unlimited movies at home for less than the price of two theater tickets. It's predictable, recurring revenue. Not a gamble on whether one movie succeeds or fails."

"Heh. You really are your father's son," Douglass repeated. "You both have the same blind confidence. Almost prophetic, really."

He glanced at Jefferson. "I'm surprised this guy was willing to gamble on your company."

Marcus frowned slightly, but it vanished before it fully formed. He couldn't eat pride. So there was nothing wrong with taking criticism.

"I'm willing to offer convertible notes on your company."

Douglass said it suddenly.

"Considering the risk, I'll put up ten million for thirty percent equity after the trigger." He was direct. No bullshit.

It was jarring. Just moments ago, they'd been joking around. Now, at the dinner table, the whole atmosphere had turned serious.

"I'm not soft like Jefferson," Douglass said with a smile—though his eyes weren't smiling. "Convertible notes. It's generous. I'm loaning you the money, but with the potential to convert it into equity later."

Silence settled over the room.

Marcus had bought knowledge about investments and negotiations from the system's random monthly shop, so he knew what convertible notes were.

It wasn't that different from a loan, but it protected the investor way more. If another funding round happened, or if the company became successful, Douglass would convert that ten million into thirty percent equity at a discounted valuation. Basically, he'd be buying in cheap.

For example, if Netflicks eventually hit a hundred million dollar valuation, that thirty percent stake would be worth thirty million. But Douglass would've only paid ten million for it—because the conversion happened at an earlier, lower valuation. He'd be getting a three-to-one return, minimum. Maybe more depending on the discount rate and timing.

It was, by no means, a simple offer.

"Thirty percent for ten million?" Marcus knew the money was serious, but not for his business. "You know Jefferson paid seven million for ten percent, right?"

"Oh, I know," Douglass grinned. "That was pretty generous for a tiny startup, I'll give him that."

"You're really greedy, Doug," Jefferson said, incredulous. "Thirty percent? You know how much the shares would dilute just to repay that?"

"So no deal, then?" Douglass didn't seem fazed. He'd clearly calculated this beforehand.

"You know this isn't how negotiations usually end, right?" Marcus smiled. "I value my company at five hundred million." He held up five fingers. "So that ten million would be, what, two percent?"

"Five hundred million for your company?" Douglass laughed hard. "You're killing me here, kid."

"That's pre-money valuation," Marcus stated. "But I'll never agree to a deal like yours. You should've known that."

"Okay, let's make it spicy," Douglass said as he dipped his sushi in wasabi and ate it. He talked while chewing. "Twenty-five million for forty percent?"

He gestured to the young woman massaging his back. "I can give you the money right now. Use it however you want for your company."

Marcus was speechless. "I thought you were cautious with money?"

"Of course I'm cautious," Douglass said. "But no matter what Nathan did to me, I still consider him a friend. So helping his son seems reasonable."

"Stop lying," Jefferson snorted. "You obviously see the potential and want in on this."

Douglass shrugged. "Think what you want. Giving convertible notes and getting nothing? That's risky. Doing this is basically a favor, right?"

Marcus didn't buy his bullshit for a second. "Okay, if it's convertible notes, what's the trigger?"

The trigger—the event that converts the loan into equity.

"Just the usual," Douglass said. "If you raise funds from other investors, the convertible loan immediately converts to equity." He paused. "The company can repay me using profits—actual profits, not revenue—or from your own pocket. Not from investor funds or bank loans. If you repay me without triggering conversion, you'll pay interest on top. Standard terms."

That equity would come from all shareholders' stakes. Marcus, Jefferson, and his friends who owned shares would all be diluted.

Of course, even if the percentage decreased, the value would increase.

But it still reduced control.

"How about I set a timeline—say, three years?" Douglass said. "If you can't repay that amount, the convertible notes automatically become equity." He smiled. "That shouldn't be a bad deal, right? I'm risking a lot here."

'I knew this guy was sharp and ruthless from what Jefferson told me, but he's even worse than I thought,' Marcus thought. This kind of deal was brutal. And while risky for the investor, Douglass's real goal was obvious—control over the company.

Marcus smiled faintly. 'He's not normal. But then again, neither am I.'

His eyes caught the system notification that had just appeared.

[Major Quest: The Gambler's Wager]

[Description: Douglass Burton seeks control through calculated risk. Turn his own game against him. Offer an impossible deal: accept $70 million in convertible notes that must be repaid in cash with interest within three years—not converted to equity. Make him believe you're overconfident. Then prove him wrong.]

[Objective: Repay $70 million + interest within 3 years without triggering equity conversion]

[Reward: +2,000 Points]

[Failure Penalty: Loss of Netflicks ownership]

He had the system. And more importantly, he had the entire Netflicks technology infrastructure in the Questclopedia. He could reduce tech costs massively since everything was already in his head—he just needed to spend system points to fully comprehend and implement it.

Plus, with the original content he planned to produce—not just relying on heavy licensing like Netflicks in his previous life—it was safe to assume he could pull in hundreds of millions, maybe billions in net income.

That was unimaginable. In his previous life, Netflicks hit three billion in revenue by 2012. But because of costs—technology, marketing, and especially heavy licensing fees—their net income was only seventeen to twenty million.

Such a huge gap.

But Marcus had advantages the old Netflicks didn't. The system. Funding. And the ability to create originals from the start.

Douglass expected the kid to struggle with this. But from the way Marcus sat there—quiet, with a faint smile—he seemed... confident.

"I have a proposition," Marcus said calmly. "I'll take seventy million from you. But if I can't repay that within three years, I'll give you half of my shares."

Jefferson gasped at the offer. Marcus currently held about eighty-seven percent of the company. If he gave half to Douglass, that would be over forty-three percent!

That was such a risky offer! Jefferson's eyes widened with worry. What the hell are you doing, kid!?

Douglass was shocked too. But he grinned. "Hehe, I'm liking this. You're way bolder than I thought, kid."

Inside, he was thrilled. This kid's even more foolish than Nathan! He really thinks a tiny startup like his can be profitable enough in that time window to repay me?

"We have to make this clear," Douglass said. "If I agree, investor funds or bank loans can't be used to repay me."

"Yes. But raising funds shouldn't be a trigger, right?" Marcus wanted to confirm. "If I fail to repay the convertible notes within three years, then it converts to equity."

Douglass looked at Marcus with a longer, sharper glance. "Seventy million? Kid, aren't you overestimating yourself?" He chuckled. "But you've got my attention. How about this—thirty-five million, and I get equity equal to half your shares if you can't repay within three years."

"Seventy million—"

"Thirty-five million—"

"Seventy million."

The two went back and forth, negotiating aggressively—until Jefferson forcibly pulled Marcus aside, wanting to know what the hell the kid was thinking.