Chapter 188: Catering to Their Interests

A black Cadillac slowly stopped in the parking lot outside a club in Malibu under the direction of the security personnel. Murphy and Paul Wilson, carrying a large briefcase, got out of the car, showed their invitation to the security staff, and, under their guidance, slowly entered the club's main gate.

This was a typical private club, covering a considerable area, with many buildings scattered throughout.

Following a long corridor carpeted in red, Murphy and Paul Wilson quickly arrived at the party venue.

Although night had already fallen, Murphy felt as if he had entered a world of daylight. The English-style fountain shone dazzlingly under the golden lights, and the vast lawns were adorned with white starlights. Every building and every decoration radiated a unique glow. Mixed together, they were harmonious and comfortable.

The guests coming and going were all dressed in formal evening wear.

After making a round at the party, they hardly saw any familiar faces. Paul Wilson found it strange, "This doesn't seem like an industry party, does it?"

The two found a resting table and sat down. Murphy, observing his surroundings, said, "Haven't you heard? Next year's Miss Universe final will be held in Malibu. This is a preparatory party organized by the Miss Universe organization."

He had just seen Donald Trump. If the information he had seen online was correct, Trump was one of the owners of the Miss Universe event rights, with the other party being NBC.

Murphy turned his head and could still vaguely see Donald Trump. The New York tycoon, surrounded by celebrities, was one of the focal points of the party.

Murphy also saw Martin Miller, the agent of William Morris, nearby. Bill Roscis had mentioned yesterday that William Morris was one of the service companies for next year's Miss Universe event.

Not far from Martin Miller, Murphy also spotted his target for the evening, Frank Miller, wearing his signature cowboy hat, standing in the crowd, seemingly listening to something Donald Trump was saying.

"When is the final next year?" Paul Wilson seemed quite interested in such beauty contests. "Will it be a gathering of beauties?"

"I don't know," Murphy shook his head, casually replying, "Check the time. If we're free next year, we can come and watch."

It wouldn't be bad to come and watch if it coincided with a vacation. Malibu was not far, and such competitions were indeed very pleasing to the eye.

Murphy asked a passing waiter for two glasses of water and sat there with Paul Wilson, casually chatting while watching Frank Miller, waiting for the right opportunity.

"Hey, aren't you…"

A greeting suddenly came from the side. Murphy quickly turned his head. He and Paul Wilson had been so focused on Frank Miller that they hadn't noticed a beautiful woman approaching. The woman recognized Murphy, seemingly remembering, "Hello, Director Stanton, I didn't expect to see you here."

The woman was slim and tall, with dazzling light brown hair, and her chocolate-colored skin looked exceptionally smooth under the light.

They had just met at the Saturn Awards ceremony not long ago. Murphy politely stood up, extending his right hand, "Hello, Miss Alba."

Jessica Alba gently shook his hand, "Call me Jessica."

Murphy nodded, gesturing to the chair beside him, courteously inviting, "Have time? Sit for a while?"

"Hmm…" Jessica Alba didn't hesitate, pulling out a chair to sit down, "I forgot to congratulate you on stage last time."

"You're too polite." Murphy sat back down, signaling to a waiter standing not far away, "I also didn't expect to meet you here."

He wasn't familiar with her, having only met her on the award stage. For a while, he couldn't find a common topic.

Jessica Alba smiled sweetly, "I'm the image spokesperson for next year's Miss Universe."

"I see." Murphy feigned realization, complimenting, "The organizers have good taste…"

As he spoke, Murphy glanced around. Although he had been talking to Jessica Alba, he occasionally paid attention to Frank Miller. Now, Frank Miller had left Trump's side and came to the resting area, sitting down at a table not far from his left.

Hearing Murphy's compliment, Jessica Alba was still smiling sweetly, but Murphy suddenly changed the subject, "Sorry, Jessica, I see a friend. I need to say hello."

"Ah…" Jessica Alba was a bit surprised by this impolite behavior, but she still said with a smile, "Do as you please."

Who was more important, Frank Miller or Jessica Alba, was not a question. Murphy nodded to Paul Wilson and stood up to walk towards Frank Miller.

The two tables were not far apart. Murphy saw that Frank Miller had ordered a glass of wine and was drinking alone.

He didn't go straight over but ordered a glass of wine from a waiter and slowly approached the table.

"Excuse me, Mr. Miller." Murphy stood at an appropriate distance from the table, seeing Frank Miller turn his head, his tone filled with uncontrollable excitement, "It's such a surprise to meet you here. I'm a fan of your comics."

Hearing this, Frank Miller lifted his cowboy hat slightly, "Hello."

"I heard rumors that you're creating a new Batman comic?" Murphy, feigning familiarity, saw no displeasure on Frank Miller's face, pointed to the chair opposite, "May I sit?"

Without waiting for an answer, Murphy pulled out a chair and sat opposite Frank Miller.

"Your comics have accompanied me through my growth…" Murphy tried his best to eliminate the strangeness between them, focusing on Frank Miller's proudest comic achievements, "I've been through tough times, and it was your comics that helped me forget the pain and stand up again and again."

Even a man in his fifties would at least not be displeased by these compliments. Frank Miller smiled, "I'm glad they were useful to you."

"I don't know how to express my love for those comics…" Murphy raised his glass, "To your classic comics!"

He drank all the wine in his glass.

Frank Miller also lifted his glass and took a sip, feeling quite good being praised by a super fan.

Unlike with Jessica Alba, Murphy had researched Frank Miller through CAA in advance, knowing he was a very proud person, proud of his achievements in the comic world. Praising his comics could please him more than praising him personally.

Just like Murphy had specially shot a short film, to impress someone, targeted research was necessary.

Afterward, Murphy's conversation always revolved around "Sin City," "300," and "Batman: The Dark Knight Returns," and he drank three more glasses of wine with Frank Miller.

"Frank," as their unfamiliarity gradually faded, Murphy started calling him by his nickname, "Your comics have inspired me from a young age, motivating me to strive for it."

"Oh?" Frank Miller didn't quite understand Murphy's meaning, curiously looking at him.

"In the mid-90s, I thought, why could 'Superman' and other 'Batman' comics be adapted into movies," Murphy said seriously, "why not yours?"

Frank Miller frowned slightly, thoughtfully looking at Murphy.

Murphy faced Frank Miller's gaze as if what he said was indeed what he thought, "I wondered if Hollywood directors and movie companies were blind to these comics. So, I decided to become a movie director and adapt my favorite comics into movies!"

These words were hard to distinguish between truth and falsehood. Frank Miller didn't say anything.

"No matter what happened, I never gave up on these ideas." Murphy appeared incredibly sincere, like Forrest Gump, "I started self-funding movies more than two years ago, honing my directing skills. I was lucky and worked hard, directed three films, and achieved some success, especially in improving my directing skills."

He looked very serious at Frank Miller, "I believe I have the ability to adapt my favorite comics, so I decided to come to you."

"Are you a director?" Frank Miller was puzzled, as Murphy, in his early twenties, didn't seem like one.

"Yes, I am a director." His previous compliments made Frank Miller somewhat elated, not noticing Murphy hadn't introduced himself. Murphy formally introduced himself, "My name is Murphy Stanton, and I have directed three formal feature films."

Frank Miller suddenly asked, "The winner of last month's Saturn Award for Best Horror Film?"

"Yes, 'Saw'." That's the effect of awards. Murphy smiled, "It was my second directed work."

Perhaps because of the good impression left on Frank Miller earlier, or maybe because of the Saturn Award winner's title, Frank Miller thought for a moment and asked, "Which of my comics are you interested in?"

Murphy didn't beat around the bush and directly said, "Sin City!"

Hearing this, Frank Miller immediately shook his head, "That's impossible!"

Seeing Murphy wanting to say something, he raised his hand and said, "You're not the first director to come to me. From the beginning, I've always believed that adapting 'Sin City' into a movie is not feasible. Not because the film format isn't suitable for these stories, but because, in my understanding, the film industry will inevitably distort my work!"

Indeed, even after saying so much to cater to his interests, Frank Miller still hadn't changed his long-standing stance.

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