I Forged the Myth of the Ancient Overlords
Chapter 278 - 278 277. Job Posting_1

Chapter 278: 277. Job Posting_1 Chapter 278: 277. Job Posting_1 “This is tough.”

Lu Ban’s head ached just thinking about the five billion in revenue.

It had been one billion in revenue before, so how had it suddenly become fifty billion?

The difference in multiples was just like the upgrade requirements of the Silent Department Store.

If it were fifty billion in box office, Lu Ban could struggle a bit and rely on popular films like “War in the Pocket” to make a stake.

But fifty billion in revenue meant it would be extremely difficult for Lu Ban to extract that kind of money from the box office.

Lu Ban had a clear understanding of himself.

His position and achievements today were not only due to his personal efforts but largely due to the course of history.

The reason for Lu Ban’s success was that domestically, the production of horror and thriller films was relatively backward, there was a large market gap, and the footage from Silent Lands was so immersive that it made viewers feel as though they were in the thick of it.

If he really considered himself a major director, Lu Ban wasn’t insane; how could he possibly think that way?

Therefore, given the current circumstances, Lu Ban could spend a few months making a corresponding film and taking in several billion in box office wouldn’t be a huge problem, but making historical breakthroughs was too difficult.

Those films that reached such levels, not to mention their artistic standards, were at least the pinnacle of the movie industry; expecting Lu Ban to fight against that by himself was quite challenging.

Unless he added more money.

Lu Ban thought.

He needed to replace his equipment, hire a few professional teams, and then match it with various promotional activities; he had to trick as many people as possible.

The System mentioned a revenue of fifty billion but didn’t restrict the investment.

To an extreme, Lu Ban could spend several hundred million on production costs to achieve a revenue of fifty billion, which would also mean completing the task.

“Only… professional teams also need to be assessed.”

Lu Ban wasn’t doubting the business level of the big-name film studios, but since the footage had supernatural characteristics, he felt that if ordinary people were enveloped by these images for a long time, they might develop mental health issues sooner or later.

Of course, on the other hand, if ordinary people didn’t experience mental health issues after being exposed to such extraordinary images, it would indirectly confirm Lu Ban’s suspicion that moderate mental pollution could help resist mental pollution.

This might sound unbelievable, like getting sick in order to get better, or only being able to abide by the law after having violated it, but that was indeed the case.

The small-scale pollution was the cost to enhance the ability to resist pollution; for Lu Ban, it was just like a vaccine!

Having thought this through, Lu Ban decided to post a recruitment notice and hire some production staff.

He immediately contacted Li Zijian.

“Brother Li, I need to ask you for a favor.”

“Are you going on another inspection to the mental hospital?”

Li Zijian’s first reaction was this because of the trouble Lu Ban had caused at the mental hospital last time, including a journalist who was locked in and couldn’t get out. Li Zijian just hoped that Lu Ban would visit the mental hospital less to avoid him having to clean up the mess again.

“No, no, I’m thinking of hiring some people.”

“You’re recruiting for the mental hospital?”

Li Zijian blurted out without thinking.

“?”

Lu Ban was taken aback, not expecting the other person’s imagination to leap so significantly only when it came to mental hospitals.

“No, I’m looking to recruit some people in the film and television industry, mainly for post-production and video making.”

He hurriedly explained.

“You’re hiring people?”

Li Zijian was even more surprised.

It seemed that Lu Ban had been a one-man army at the beginning, and he hadn’t asked for assistance with these past few films. Li Zijian had found it odd at first, but over time, he just chalked it up to Lu Ban being superhuman, capable of handling everything himself, or perhaps he had his own house-elf that could help him with work while he slept at night.

Hearing that Lu Ban was hiring, there was a feeling as if worlds apart.

“The general requirements are… good salary, based on the highest in the industry, and it can be doubled for those with exceptional skills. Oh, and I need to conduct the interviews personally. Brother Li, if you have any suitable candidates, just let me know directly.”

Lu Ban sent his requirements and then extracted some video clips from before, editing a short sample piece for the interview.

In short, even if one’s skills were excellent, they had to withstand the content of the video, because if they couldn’t, Lu Ban couldn’t be responsible for harming anyone. He’d rather have someone with less skill but enough willpower.

The task had a one-year deadline, which meant Lu Ban could take his time to polish everything.

When “The Madman’s Mouth” broke through three billion in box office, Lu Ban finally received the first resume for an interview.

It was from a post-production specialist who had worked overseas and had been involved in the production of many Hollywood blockbusters, boasting an impressive resume.

In the newly rented company office, Lu Ban interviewed him.

“Hello, Director Lu, I’m Mike, nice to meet you.”

The man shook hands with Lu Ban and then glanced around the room.

It seemed newly renovated with nothing inside, not even the plastic seal on the office desk was fully removed.

“You’re Zheng Shuo, right?”

Lu Ban glanced at the resume.

“You can call me Mike.”

His friend, insistent on using an English name, twitched the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, okay, Mike, I’ve read your resume and it seems quite impressive. Why do you want to return to your home country to develop your career?”

Lu Ban didn’t demonstrate any impolite behavior like “Okay, Zheng Shuo, I got it, Zheng Shuo.” He knew that after living abroad for a long time, some people got used to their English names and felt strange and uncomfortable being called by their Chinese names.

“Because I think, Director Lu, your movie is very attractive to me. As a Creator, I believe we could resonate on a soul level…”

He spoke at length, his Chinese interspersed with English, and Lu Ban found it irksome to listen to.

Though the man might technically be very skilled, this wasn’t a good way of speaking, as Lu Ban thought.

After the man finished articulating his ideas, Lu Ban turned the computer screen towards him.

“Here’s the thing, because a large part of the movies I make have plots of thrill and horror, so to prevent staff from experiencing adverse reactions to these scenes, I need to test your tolerability to such content. Is that okay?”

Lu Ban asked earnestly.

“No problem, Director Lu. When I was in LA, I often came across them. This type of horror film is a piece of cake for me.”

The man patted his chest with an unflappable demeanor.

“You’ve even learned idioms.”

Lu Ban muttered and pressed the play button.

Ten minutes later, Lu Ban hit pause.

“Are you alright?”

He patted the man on the shoulder.

That pat made the man jump up, looking at Lu Ban with eyes full of terror, as if he had seen a ghost.

“Don’t come any closer, don’t come any closer…”

He blurted out in Mandarin with a hint of his native dialect.

Before Lu Ban could grasp him, the man fled down the stairs without looking back.

“Hiring people is so difficult…”

Lu Ban felt a headache coming on.