Chapter 44: Picking Up News

[Chapter 44: Picking Up News]

Having read the online reviews, Ian habitually went to check the industry commentary. There were no smug remarks aimed at him this time. If anything, the Los Angeles Times had given a half-hearted jab: "He should have had that banker responsible for the shooting while he focused on photography. He neglected his real duties!"

That wasn't entirely unreasonable, but the Gaskill really couldn't pull that off... Keyboard warriors never considered practicalities.

As he was pondering over that, there was a knock on the door.

...

Ian opened it to see Gaskill and Lena standing there.

The old man smiled, "I have plans with a friend. What about you?"

Ian shrugged and pointed to his camera, "Just strolling around the streets."

Sometimes reporters had no leads, so to get news, they would roam the streets with their cameras. After all, a big story was still a story, and a small one was too. What they got out of it depended on luck.

For Ian, though, his "luck" had always been quite good.

So with no particular agenda, he decided to wander the streets today.

Ian referred to this as "collecting news."

Gaskill said, "See you tonight."

They parted ways.

...

Ian had found a car rental company. Once the car arrived, he hopped in, ready with his Canon camera.

Ian's habit was to carry three essentials: an ARRI camera, a Canon digital camera, and a laptop along with a bunch of wireless mini cams and a corresponding monitor.

Because of this, there were no spare clothes in his bag -- just equipment.

At this moment, driving into the city, Ian meandered through the streets.

Oakland, with its proximity to San Francisco Bay to the west and Berkeley to the north, was relatively charming. The downtown area was bustling, with skyscrapers rising everywhere and traffic flowing thickly; it was quite vibrant.

On the flip side, Oakland was also known as one of America's notorious riot cities. Here, as long as one was willing to look, there was a wealth of violent news stories.

Especially in the western part of Oakland, it was a typical nocturnal danger zone. It was filled with homeless people, gangs, and impoverished families living in vans or under bridges; anyone among them could turn into a thug if they wished.

Unfortunately, Ian hadn't yet developed the ability to navigate through gunfire confidently. Otherwise, he could simply stroll through those chaotic areas every night -- every night would mean gunfire and breaking news.

But he couldn't report that every day; readers would get tired of the same story.

He needed to ramp up the drama!

...

At that moment, while Ian pondered this, he casually strolled around, snapping photos in various corners of the street.

A reporter didn't always need to seek out huge events; he could simply wander the streets, capture a few things, and scribble down some thoughts based on his shots.

For instance:

What makes a city so desolate?

What causes people to sleep on the streets?

What transforms a city into a dump?

What leads the houses to fall into disrepair?

Add a dash of sentiment, a little daydreaming, and a ramble here and there, and a report would be complete.

So long as one was willing, anything could be a topic -- though not everything would catch fire.

However, more than eighty percent of news articles in the world were of this ilk.

They needed some filler words.

Even though Ian had grown used to breaking big stories, he occasionally penned such articles. They wouldn't increase his points much, but they could bolster public perception, and as his fame increased, even his casual writings garnered readership... which brought in some cash.

In reality, those emotional-driven pieces weren't entirely fluff; he genuinely felt moved by them.

...

At that moment, Ian parked in the city.

Strolling down the street, he wandered and explored, stumbling upon some minor stories -- not big news, but certainly worthy of publication.

These stories usually required a brief description after snapping some photos, which he would send to Lloyd for submission to the editor, relieving him of excess stress.

As he walked, Ian came to a white building.

It had a sign hanging that read "Elek Private Hospital."

After the last party, Ian had asked a few people and learned that the head of the Oakland Paints Company, Iverson, apparently had a long-standing relationship with this hospital.

To find evidence that Iverson was suffering from cancer, the best way was through the hospital. For someone as prominent as Iverson, he was likely under the care of the best doctor at this hospital, namely Dr. Elek himself.

Standing in front of the hospital, Ian activated his observational mode and was focused when he suddenly froze.

"Lena? Gaskill?"

What were they doing here? Weren't they supposed to visit Iverson? Or were they looking to get medical records directly from Dr. Elek?

Just as he was thinking about it, Ian's expression shifted, and he cursed, "Damn!"

The next moment, he dashed into the hospital.

*****

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