Please call me the lunchbox manager

After Lyman joined the crew, visible order returned to the set.

Everyone was sensible and noticed the change.

James seemed to have found a steadfast anchor within himself, his demeanor undergoing significant transformation.

No longer did he seem somewhat inadequate or irritable as before. He now directed according to his preferences.

In many instances, if he felt unsure about something, he would consult Lyman's opinion, find a middle ground, and then proceed with filming.

The result of this approach was that the crew didn't have to engage in pointless work, and actors didn't have to exert extra effort on unnecessary scenes.

A number of people on the set had already started discussing the directing abilities of these two individuals in private.

It was quite apparent that Lyman, with his Sixth Sense Gear and well-developed attributes, was far superior to James, who was merely level 18 and seemed to have stepped out with the weak Doran Shield. In terms of output, there was no comparison at all.

Moreover, with him around, the atmosphere among the crew members had also become much more harmonious.

The smooth progress of the filming work that followed further boosted everyone's morale.

A virtuous cycle, you could say.

What was even more important was that occasionally, when they encountered technical issues like a lack of aesthetic in the shots or the inability to achieve the desired level of lighting layering, Lyman could provide excellent insights...

"What's the relationship between Lyman and James Wan?" During a break in filming, Jason Statham sat on a resting chair, watching the two of them on the opposite side engrossed in discussion. He couldn't help but speak up.

"What relationship?" Hugo Weaving, who was also taking a break, was a bit puzzled. What was he trying to express?

Seemingly feeling that his explanation wasn't clear enough, Jason added, "I've heard that Lyman has invested in this project, so it's natural for him to be dedicated. But isn't he a bit too dedicated? I mean... look, during the usual filming, unless the director actively approaches him, he won't say a word. But the moment there's a problem, he instantly appears with a solution... I can't help but feel like it's the dynamic between a master and an apprentice craftsman, nurturing him to become independent."

That actually made sense.

Hugo unconsciously nodded, but his gaze drifted toward where they were.

Behind the director's monitor, Lyman was engrossed in conversation with James, constantly sharing his own filming experiences.

For instance, how to use the camera's angles to create a sense of spatial depth in the shot; how to film character positioning for better coordination; how to render emotions during climactic moments...

After their conversation and before parting, Lyman patted James' shoulder as an encouraging gesture.

Their relationship was indeed quite unusual.

When did an investor and a director start having conversations like this?

Even if it was for his own practical interests, it still seemed excessive.

Truly extraordinary.

Hugo withdrew his gaze and glanced at Jason. "But these things don't concern us. Do you want to rehearse your lines now? I've rested."

Of course, Lyman was unaware of all this. It was almost noon, and he needed to go select the lunchboxes.

Yesterday, some crew members complained that the lunchboxes had become much less tasty than before, and he had to address the issue.

"Did you change to a different vendor?"

"Yes."

"What about the price?"

"It went up by a dollar."

"That's okay."

This was his conversation with the production staff responsible for delivering the lunchboxes.

The vendor that had been providing the crew's lunchboxes earlier seemed to have declined in quality over the past couple of days.

He didn't bother asking for the reason and simply switched to a different vendor.

After all, you can't let them get used to it, right? As customers, as gods, you can't play fast and loose with gods. Lyman proved this with his actions.

In the afternoon, after having lunch and resting for a while, the crew got busy again.

In his small office space, Lyman sat down once again, jotting down notes.

The same ledger for tracking financial ins and outs, and a calculator placed to the left of it.

But even so, it was giving him a headache.

Lyman was truly starting to regret how he had inexplicably wanted to do what a producer ought to do.

As for that girl, Eva Green, her math skills were even worse than his. She was even less reliable.

"Today, the crew has 47 people. Fast-food lunchboxes with delivered meals are $5.50 each, totaling $148.50. The other option for meals is $9 each, adding up to $180..."

Indeed, Lyman wasn't recklessly calculating. The crew's meals were categorized strictly, considering that the main cast and the production, logistics, and miscellaneous crew members couldn't all be mixed together for calculations.

This was a small society in itself, with inherent class disparities.

Even in something as simple as lunchboxes, the unequal relationships were constantly evident.

The crew's breakfasts and dinners were usually handled at the hotel. During the day, they had the lunchboxes mentioned earlier, which were reasonably flavorful, generously portioned, and not too expensive. Lyman had already informed the production staff that this arrangement would last for about a month, assuming the shooting schedule proceeded without major disruptions. This was part of the planned shooting schedule.

Adding up all these expenses... it came to around seven thousand dollars.

Considering this level of expenditure, the crew's budget was manageable.

After all, Lyman had set aside a budget of around two hundred thousand dollars, with a cushion for unexpected costs. As long as they didn't significantly delay shooting or waste an entire day, the budget would suffice. It's important to note that production teams are usually paid on a weekly basis, costing around eight thousand dollars per day. That's where the bulk of the expenses lay.

Slightly elevating the food standards while still adhering to the planned shooting schedule was a decision without comparison, given the circumstances.

Having documented this, Lyman clipped the pen onto the notebook and carried it with him.

He leisurely strolled toward the filming location.

The afternoon involved three scenes, and the art and set design teams were already bustling about.

Suddenly, the head of the prop department approached James to report on their progress. Lyman, quite interested, also walked over to take a look.

It was a small section of a human leg – ankle, toes – all made with great detail and realism.

Under normal circumstances, witnessing such a scene would be eerie. But this was the set of "Saw", and for the sake of the plot, it wasn't as terrifying.

Lyman even reached out and touched it.

Hmm, he then touched his own leg.

Surprisingly, aside from the lack of warmth, the sensation was eerily similar. Truly magical.

"Why doesn't it have the kind of flesh and blood details? Is it just for the appearance?" Lyman pointed and inquired.

The prop team member smiled wryly, "Producer, being able to achieve this level is already quite impressive. It's impossible to make it exactly like a real human leg. If we add some special effects in post-production, the effect will be convincing. At least, if viewers aren't scrutinizing, they won't be able to tell it's fake. Moreover, the shot will only be a brief close-up. Who can actually discern whether the cross-section cut lacks flesh and blood?"

"True, it's just a semi-close-up shot," Lyman nodded, understanding the explanation.