Hollywood Road

For the LAPD, $100,000 is not a significant sum, but as Murphy expected, getting this reward wasn't easy, especially since he was the one claiming it.

However, with the recorded call to the police, the looming threat of Channel 6's report on another government failure, and the money-hungry lawyer Robert, the LAPD, after some stalling and being bombarded by Channel 6's credibility attacks, finally transferred the money to Murphy's bank account.

As a result, the LAPD's view of Murphy worsened. They often stopped him while he was driving, using flimsy excuses like suspected illegal possession of firearms or potential drug carrying to search his car, but they never found anything.

They also summoned him to the police station several times under the pretext of assisting in investigations. However, with his lawyer present and no incriminating evidence, the police had no choice but to let him walk in and out freely.

Murphy knew he was now on the LAPD's blacklist, so he was very careful to obey the law. He avoided firearms and drugs, which are common pitfalls for many Americans, giving the police no reason to arrest him.

He even bought the latest Sony mini camcorder to record everything, preventing the police from framing him.

Besides this, Murphy's regular work continued. The California media, led by Channel 6 and Fox TV, extensively covered the shootout. The last time such a real gunfight scene was seen was during the North Hollywood robbery a few years ago. The impact was predictable.

Moreover, the TV stations didn't just classify this as a simple police vs. criminal shootout. Their extensive coverage frequently mentioned the shooting of unarmed black men by white officers. With a few more recent incidents of white officers randomly arresting black men, a moderate black protest erupted in Los Angeles.

Due to historical reasons, black communities naturally have a fragile "glass heart."

Large-scale black protests occurred in front of the LA City Hall and the LAPD headquarters, sometimes reaching the brink of violent conflict.

Such activities are exactly what the media loves to report on, using various methods to spread the word and attract more attention.

Additionally, Murphy filmed a lot of material, intending to participate in Channel 6's documentary project to produce a documentary reflecting Los Angeles's law and order.

Of course, he was more of a participant in this project.

In this documentary on violent crime, Los Angeles wouldn't be the prosperous City of Angels but a city filled with violence, drugs, car accidents, and other criminal incidents!

Also, under Fox TV's influence, the police didn't get a court injunction to stop Murphy's two videos.

"Looks like you've been doing well lately," Ross said, taking a big gulp of beer while looking at Murphy across the table in a Chinatown restaurant in LA. "At least better than I imagined."

Murphy took a sip of beer too. "Just lucky, that's all."

"That's not just luck." Ross waved his tattooed hand. "Your boldness has always been a strength, and this time you made the LAPD look like clowns."

Even though Murphy glossed over the details, not mentioning the underhanded tactics he used, Ross could guess that his friend must have employed some shady methods.

"Don't say it like that," Murphy shrugged. "I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. I've always been a good citizen of Los Angeles."

Ross, having no reservations with Murphy, mercilessly mocked, "Would a good citizen put a British director in the hospital?"

Murphy couldn't help but slap the table, emphasizing, "That was an accident! And besides, it was a minor injury at the time. His brain issues happened six months after I went to jail; it had nothing to do with me!"

"You ruined his directing career," Ross continued to jab, "Poor Brit."

What was the name of that director who had aftereffects? Murphy vaguely remembered someone calling him Chris or Klaus or something.

The restaurant wasn't crowded, and Murphy and Ross sat in a corner, speaking freely.

"What are your next plans?"

After some jokes, Ross got to the point. "Still planning to break into Hollywood? I think you're doing pretty well now."

Murphy put down his knife and fork, "Why not? I'm going to participate in Channel 6's documentary, gain some experience, and after it's done, I'll start making movies."

Ross looked dismissive, "Making movies needs a lot of money. Do you have that much?"

"Hey, can you not be so discouraging?" Murphy pointed at him, pretending to boast, "I just made $230,000!"

"Is that a lot? Are you sure all $230,000 is yours?"

Though Ross looked like a simple-minded Latin guy who could only fight, he was very shrewd, which is why he had a big slice of the underground market in downtown LA.

He raised his fingers, "Let me break it down for you, naive Mr. Murphy Stanton. Entering the film industry means you have to play by the government's rules. A big chunk of your $230,000 will go to taxes, your lawyer takes a cut, and you'll need to pay union fees. After all that, how much is left? Enough to make a real movie?"

Seeing Murphy, his eyes widened, "You're not thinking of making one of those low-budget flicks, are you?"

"Of course not!" Murphy raised his voice a bit, "I'm going to make a real movie, not some cheap trash."

Ross shook his head, "You still need money."

Murphy rolled his eyes, "No kidding. Without money, how could I make a movie?"

Making a movie was a future plan. For now, Murphy was preparing to participate in Channel 6's documentary production. This timely documentary on violent crime wouldn't involve much filming but would use a lot of past footage from Channel 6. Many videos Murphy shot were also candidates.

How much money this could bring was hard to say, but Murphy valued the experience.

After discussing their future plans, Ross suddenly lowered his voice, "I saw those two black guys' pictures in the newspaper. I had seen them a long time ago."

Murphy was surprised, "You know them?"

"Not just them," Ross recalled, "The head of the family on Beale Street that was wiped out—I should have seen him before too."

"Oh?" Murphy looked at Ross, waiting for him to continue.

Ross leaned in closer, lowering his voice, "Maybe because the two black guys are dead and the Beale Street family is wiped out, the police found no useful clues. They should have been in a business similar to mine."

A similar business? Murphy quickly understood; Ross's main businesses were **** and illegal firearms.

Murphy's mind worked fast, "Could it be a drug dispute turned violent?"

"Possible," Ross shrugged, "They're all dead. Who knows?"

He stood up, "It's getting late. I have a party tonight. Wanna join?"

Murphy checked his watch and shook his head, "No, I have a party too. Channel 6's news director is taking me to a high-end party with some celebrities."

On the way home, Murphy bought a new suit. Kara Faith was taking him to a media and entertainment sports party that evening, with many industry celebrities attending.

For Murphy, who longed for Hollywood, he wouldn't miss this opportunity.

Back home, he called Kara to confirm the time and place to meet. Then, Murphy went to his workshop, continuing his screenwriting. When tired, he'd edit his filmed videos according to his ideas, using it as practice.

Even the greatest directors need opportunities and practice before success. James Cameron and Steven Spielberg, both recognized as geniuses, were no exceptions.

Though confident, Murphy didn't consider himself a super genius like them. He understood the simple principle that effort brings rewards.

A second chance at life wouldn't make filmmaking effortless. Watching a movie and making one were worlds apart.

Moreover, Hollywood is never short of film geniuses.

The idea that Hollywood would flock to him after writing a few scripts was long gone. Murphy had submitted two scripts to several well-known studios, but there was no response. Calling to inquire only got him standard bureaucratic replies.

"Talent, without opportunity, is worthless here!"

After editing a couple of shots, Murphy sighed. Before coming here, he was a naive student who believed that talent alone would get him noticed and appreciated by big names.

But a year of grinding had taught him that such thoughts were childish.

As the sun set, Murphy put down his work, donned his new suit, and prepared to meet Kara Faith, hoping to meet some familiar faces at the high-end party.