Chapter 1: Prodigal Son

The morning sun fell on the straight road, illuminating the English letters strewn all over the street. Ronan, still reeking of alcohol, stood in front of the newsstand, staring intently at a copy of the Los Angeles Times.

The newspaper was dated January 5, 1998.

Ronan rubbed his weary face and ran his fingers through his bird's nest-like hair. In reality, he had realized what had happened when he woke up in the bar early in the morning, and now he was completely sure.

He had come from the Pacific coast more than twenty years later to Los Angeles in 1998.

To be precise, this was Burbank, a satellite city of Los Angeles.

"Good morning, Mr. Anderson," the newsstand owner greeted proactively. "Would you like a newspaper?"

Ronan nodded and bought a copy of the Los Angeles Times, then headed towards the entrance of a nearby small office building.

"Isn't that Ronan Anderson?" a plump middle-aged woman emerged from the newsstand, gossiping. "Look at him, he's such a prodigal son, squandering all of old Anderson's inheritance and company."

The newsstand owner nudged the woman. "Lisa, don't gossip."

The middle-aged woman muttered, "But it's true."

All of these words reached Ronan's ears, but he paid no attention. They were right; the previous owner of this body had already fallen into a quagmire.

Arriving at the entrance of the office building, among the array of nameplates hanging, Ronan easily found the name of Sahara Entertainment. Instead of immediately entering the building, he stood there silently staring at the golden company nameplate.

After accompanying advertising clients for drinks and getting drunk, he woke up from a bar and found himself in Los Angeles, having turned into this guy named Ronan Anderson.

Was it because of the same pronunciation of names?

From waking up in the early morning until now, the chaotic thoughts in his mind were gradually becoming clearer.

He had read many time-travel novels, so accepting all of this wasn't difficult.

Being a loner on the other side of the Pacific, apart from a decent job, he didn't have much attachment.

Ronan lowered his eyelids, memories of Ronan Anderson flooding his mind.

This guy could be summed up in one sentence: ambitious but reckless.

Ronan Anderson came from a good family. His father, Old Anderson, was a millionaire who founded Sahara Entertainment in the 1980s, mainly engaged in film production.

The company was small in scale, mainly producing B-grade films directly released on videotapes. Old Anderson was a typical conservative who never touched projects with investments over a million. In the ten years since its establishment, the company's works were obscure, but it had accumulated a considerable fortune.

Over a year ago, Old Anderson and his wife went on a hiking trip to a geological park in Utah, where they both died in a landslide, leaving the company and estate to Ronan Anderson.

Nineteen-year-old Ronan Anderson dropped out of USC's film school and took over Sahara Entertainment.

The company was small, and Ronan Anderson owned all of its shares.

The young man's ideas were very radical; he wanted to develop Sahara Entertainment into a major company, completely denying Old Anderson's business strategies. He put almost all of the company's and his personal cash, the insurance benefits of Old Anderson and his wife, and even mortgaged the family's house to raise six million dollars to produce a bloody action film called "Surviving the Desolate Land."

It was an era when action movies were all the rage, even artsy actors like Nicolas Cage had transitioned into action stars.

Unfortunately, last October, "Surviving the Desolate Land" premiered in North America and was pulled from theaters after just four weeks.

The North American box office was barely reaching eight hundred thousand dollars, and after deducting various expenses, Sahara Entertainment's share of the box office earnings was negligible.

The film flopped in North America, and there was no demand for overseas distribution rights.

In the following two months, Sahara Entertainment's financial chain broke, banks came knocking for debt, and employees began to resign en masse. Ronan Anderson found himself on the brink of dual bankruptcy, both personally and for the company.

The young man with lofty ambitions instantly collapsed and began drowning his sorrows in bars.

And then he ended up here.

"He's not even surnamed Ellison, yet he's playing at dropping out of school to invest in making movies."

Ronan didn't know what to say. From the memories left behind, that guy did have talent, even considered a top student at USC's film school.

Especially in terms of writing, he had considerable skill.

The script for "Surviving the Desolate Land" came from the hands of the young Anderson.

But talent didn't necessarily equate to success.

Too idealistic, too impulsive.

Investing almost all of his capital in making movies, such a high-risk commodity.

From Ronan's years of experience in the industry, the best way to invest in movies was to use other people's money.

Of course, using other people's money was also very difficult.

In his previous life on the other side of the Pacific, Ronan graduated from a second-rate drama school and had always been in the industry related to film and television production.

He started as an assistant on sets, worked hard and used various means, stepped on countless competitors, and became a small producer. With the rise of Internet video, he moved to Penguin Video and coordinated some content production and operation work.

Looking at the nameplate of Sahara Entertainment, and thinking about his head filled with film knowledge and operational experience, Ronan suddenly laughed.

Hollywood, the internet, there's a lot of potential.

Going with the flow of the times, perhaps there's an opportunity to stand at the top and enjoy the scenery.

Standing high, enjoying money and beautiful women...

But thinking about the mess left by the young Anderson, he couldn't help but feel a headache.

Carrying the newspaper, Ronan entered the office building. It was working hours, and there were many people coming and going, with many eyes glancing at him. Even some people's conversations could be heard.

"Old Anderson spent ten years developing the company, and it only took his son a little over a year to ruin it."

"Do you think Old Anderson would be so angry that he'd climb out of his grave?"

"Look at his wretched look; he might jump off a building anytime."

"Young Anderson is such a failure."

Ronan pretended not to hear, entering the Sahara Entertainment office on the second floor, where the only four remaining employees were already there.

The company wasn't large, and with his office, it measured only a few dozen square meters. Originally, there were nearly twenty people in the company, but most had resigned, and the last four remaining employees were all former close aides of Old Anderson.

One of the four, a woman in her forties with chestnut hair, came forward and asked with concern, "Ronan?"

"I'm fine, Mary," Ronan shook his head.

She used to be Old Anderson's assistant and later served as the company's chief financial officer. Her work ability was extremely strong.

As Ronan entered the office, a middle-aged man in his forties followed him.

"Mr. Anderson." He placed a document on the desk. "This is my resignation

 letter."

Taking the resignation letter, Ronan glanced briefly and said, "Jamie, the company hasn't gone bankrupt yet."

He wanted to try to retain him.

Jamie, however, didn't hesitate at all. "I'm very sorry, but I have a mortgage, a car loan, and two children. I can't take the risk."

Forcing someone to stay wouldn't yield good results. Ronan nodded lightly. "Have you found a new job?"

"Yeah," Jamie replied.

Ronan picked up a pen, signed the resignation letter, and pressed the intercom, asking Mary to process Jamie's resignation procedures.

As soon as Jamie left the office, Ronan vaguely heard an argument outside.

It was Mary questioning Jamie.

Ronan was well aware that the company's morale had collapsed. Without countermeasures, it wouldn't be long before the remaining people resigned.

How could he get out of this predicament as soon as possible?

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and Ronan responded. Mary pushed the door open.

"Ms. Judith from the bank is here."

The former had been avoiding the bank, and Ronan knew that wasn't a solution. "Please let her in."

A tall, blond woman followed Mary into the office.

"Hello, Ms. Judith."

"Hello, Mr. Anderson." Judith placed the overdue notice in front of Ronan, detected the unpleasant smell of alcohol, and a hint of disgust flashed in her eyes as she directly said, "Your company's one million dollar mortgage with our bank has three months left, and your personal one million dollar property mortgage has six months left."

Ronan glanced at the overdue notice and said, "I know."

Judith reminded, "I hope your side can repay on time."

The blonde didn't say anything more and left.

Ronan put away the overdue notice. Banks rarely came to collect debts, and the situation at Sahara Entertainment was probably worrying the bank.

The one million dollar loan from Sahara Entertainment was an old account, with the copyrights of the films made before 1997 used as collateral; Ronan Anderson mortgaged the North Hollywood apartment inherited from Old Anderson.

The bank wasn't eager to take coercive measures unless absolutely necessary.

He had thought of making something happen before, but facing a huge debt of two million dollars now, Ronan felt a headache coming on. Subconsciously, he entertained the idea of running away.

Taking a deep breath, Ronan dispelled this unrealistic idea. It wasn't the end of the road yet.

To utilize his advantages and achieve something, even for a reincarnated person, wouldn't come easily.

He looked at Mary. "How much money is left in the company's account?"

With all the finance staff having resigned, Mary had been doing this work alone. She immediately replied, "25,000 dollars."

Ronan also had five thousand dollars for living expenses. What could be done with thirty thousand dollars? Earn two million dollars within half a year? What a joke.

This amount of money wasn't even enough to pay salaries and daily expenses.

Electricity bills, office rent, internet communications, etc., all required money.

Even if salaries weren't paid for two months at most, even the most loyal employees like Mary wouldn't be able to hold on. Americans practically lived on credit.

Mary reminded, "The video and TV copyrights of 'Surviving the Desolate Land' are still there. We sold them to Pepsi, which can support us for a while."

"I'll think about it."

Ronan waved his hand, and Mary hesitated, then turned and left the office.

The movie had bombed at the box office, and the later copyrights couldn't fetch a high price.

After thinking for a while with no clear direction, Ronan put aside the matter for now. Besides the copy of the Los Angeles Times, he asked Mary to help buy a pile of recent newspapers and magazines for him to read carefully.

He had just arrived here and urgently needed information.

Starting something without understanding the social situation would undoubtedly result in a mess.

While reading the newspaper, he also took out a pen and notebook to record useful information.

After flipping through the morning, Ronan recorded two full pages, then circled the most important ones.

Last weekend, James Cameron's "Titanic" broke 200 million dollars at the North American box office.

High-tech stocks continued to rise, with the Nasdaq index climbing steadily. Cisco and Yahoo were attracting attention.

A community blog site called Metafilter, initiated by a guy named Matt Haughey, faced criticism from critics.

The Abu Dhabi Investment Authority from the Middle East set up an office in Los Angeles.

North American theater attendance exceeded 1.4 billion last year.