Chapter 490: Preparing for the New Operation (Bonus Chapter 2)

As expected, Justin, who had never been exposed to this type of cultural content, quickly fell into it. Although the plot was so cringeworthy it made people explode, and the dialogue was incredibly cheesy, Jack deliberately used plenty of over-the-top phrases like "Hubby." After finishing it, Justin responded with a string of emoticons she hadn't used in a long time, expressing her shock. This stuff was absolutely addictive—she almost cringed so hard she could have dug a hole with her toes big enough to fit her whole family, yet she still read it from start to finish and couldn't stop.

In Western countries, there are also online novels, but they're quite niche, and the commercialization of them is less developed. Most online writers start with fan fiction.

Of course, some manage to break out and become hugely popular, such as the well-known Fifty Shades of Grey and its two sequels, which originally started as Twilight fan fiction serialized online.

But that's about it. Most fan fiction stays within its niche, let alone becoming adapted into films or TV series.

As for Justin's questions about why someone would be so familiar and skilled in such trashy literature, Jack could only deflect, claiming it came from brainstorming ideas for his detective novel.

He couldn't exactly admit that back in his previous life, when he was still in middle school, after reading all the wuxia and fantasy novels available at the rental bookstore near his school, he became so bored that he picked up a few romance novels meant for teenage girls and unexpectedly found himself enjoying them.

After reading Jack's three "CEO" romance novels, Justin even came up with her own story called My Dear Brother Is a PMC. After seeing the first draft, Jack suggested she could follow it up with My Beloved Brother Is an Assassin.

Of course, Jack's real goal wasn't to turn Justin into a professional writer of cheesy Western romance novels. Once he piqued her interest, he presented her with a comprehensive plan.

The plan included building an online platform for novels, developing intellectual properties (IPs), and producing cheesy short videos and short dramas. Jack summarized over twenty years of Ceris' online cultural development, selectively condensing parts of it into this plan. Not only did it shock Justin, but even Chris was impressed, thinking it was highly feasible.

After all, Los Angeles is the heart of Hollywood, where countless struggling writers and minor actors roam around.

According to Jack's plan, they would first test the waters with CEO romance stories, followed by various "son-in-law" and "Dragon King" novels. If everything went well and word-of-mouth spread, they would spend a few years cultivating the market.

While creating high-value IPs, they could also develop a short-video app, essentially transplanting the "TikTok" model.

Once they had both content and traffic, they could hire struggling screenwriters to adapt these cheesy romance and Dragon King novels into scripts.

They would then cast attractive actors and actresses—acting skills didn't need to be stellar. Using Hollywood's industrial filmmaking machine, they could easily churn out a few thousand of these low-budget productions in a year.

Each production could be edited into dozens of 10-minute episodes, with the first two minutes packed with hooks and offered for free, while the remaining 8 minutes could be locked behind a small paywall, aiming for high profits.

Chris had already locked the proposal in his safe. He believed Jack's idea was so feasible it could be executed almost as-is, and if everything went smoothly, Justin's future worth could far surpass his own.

In truth, Jack was even more confident. After all, this was a proven business model from his previous life. Whether it was cheesy short dramas or even convoluted translated fantasy novels, starved Western readers would still devour them.

Inspired by this, Jack even had other ideas. Compared to when he first traveled to this world, he had since studied for a long time and experienced many cases. His common sense was now quite aligned with that of a typical Westerner.

If his detective novel didn't sell well, he could consider writing something else, like a reimagining of Journey to the West. The monk Tang Sanzang could be replaced with Brother Thompson, the three disciples could become three cold, sexy gun-wielding nuns, and the white horse could be swapped for an American muscle car.

He could also change the setting to a post-apocalyptic nuclear wasteland and mix in elements from Western TV shows he had seen in his previous life, such as American Gods, Mad Max, Death Race, and Blood Drive. Throw in some "SCP Foundation" or object-sealing lore, and call it Thompson the Monk and the Journey of the Three Nuns.

The more Jack thought about it, the more intrigued he became.

Of course, all these were side projects to consider later. His main focus now was the current mission: taking down Ian Doyle and his "Valhalla" organization as quickly as possible.

The next evening, Jack found himself in an Austin restaurant called "Easy Tiger." The name was interesting—a slang phrase that's hard to translate directly, but roughly means "calm down" or "don't bullshit."

Jack wasn't sure why Matt had chosen such a casual place, but the Munich beer here was good, which pleased him.

Just as they were finishing their meal, the person they had been waiting for arrived: Dreyer, the white-haired old man whom Jack had met once before in the FBI Los Angeles office's underground SCIF. Dreyer, a senior figure in CWS (Clearwater Security), had arrived without much fanfare, dressed casually.

"What do you need?" Dreyer asked bluntly as he sat down. He seemed familiar with Matt, though he glanced at Jack with mild surprise, possibly recognizing him but unsure from where.

"Everything," Matt replied, taking a sip of beer and finishing off his steak.

"Attack drones—you have Black Hawks, right? We'll need two of those, plus some support equipment. And comms gear that can link with SEAL JCU."

Jack's eyes lit up at the wealth of information packed into that sentence. No wonder Matt was acting so confident.

JCU refers to the "Joint Communications Unit" under the SEALs, which provides comms and tech support for SEAL operations. This meant that the upcoming mission had direct involvement from the Special Operations Command, with full backing from the Department of Defense.

This was a significant difference—it would be a "black" operation, but one with support, and that made all the difference.

Matt continued, "For Phase One, I'll need an assault team, at least two snipers, and a demolitions expert."

Jack cleared his throat and raised a finger, pointing to himself. "You'll only need one more sniper."

Matt, seemingly recalling the gear he had seen in the back of Jack's Suburban, nodded and agreed. "Alright, then just one more sniper."

Dreyer leaned back, giving the two of them a meaningful look. With a smirk, he quipped, "You guys planning to head to Ukraine? I've recently had some dealings with Wagner; don't make things difficult for me."

Jack gave him a meaningful look in return. The conflict between Russia and Ukraine hadn't started yet, but this guy's sense of timing was impressive—no wonder PMCs are called "war hyenas."

Matt ignored the joke. "You don't need to know the details. The FBI should have given you a heads-up. The location is in Mexico."

Dreyer feigned a delayed realization, lightly slapping the back of his head and pointing at Jack. "I remember now, we've met before. Rossi wasn't kidding after all."

Some of the gear in Jack's trunk had been sourced from Rossi through Dreyer, but Jack was unfazed by the old man's act. Although Jack now had official backing—put simply, they were client and contractor—he knew full well that outside this mission, their social status was worlds apart.

Dreyer might seem like just a fixer, but he was likely a millionaire or even a billionaire. In Western society, that meant there was a wide gulf in status.

Jack had worked as a contractor enough times in his past life to know exactly what people like Dreyer were like. He had no interest in building any rapport and kept a businesslike expression throughout the conversation.

Matt, even more adept at reading people, stuck strictly to business. After everything was discussed, the three clinked their glasses, sealing the deal. The matter of payment wasn't something they needed to worry about—Dreyer knew exactly who to ask for it.

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