King of Hollywood
Chapter 631 - 39 What a pity you can’t do that

Chapter 631: Chapter 39 What a pity you can’t do that

The office, which had been mildly noisy just a moment before, fell silent after those words. Half a moment later, the first employee who had asked a question patted Edward on the shoulder and sighed, "Let’s hope it doesn’t come to the worst-case scenario."

"Let’s hope," Edward said with a smile that was a mix of helplessness and resignation before quickly leaving. "The new supervisor is going to preside over the Planning Department’s meeting for the first time today. We’ll see then."

The so-called worst-case scenario referred to the new Ms. Charlize, who got the job by sleeping with the boss, being incompetent and unable to manage anything or simply not caring at all, which would mean that all the power would fall into the hands of "Mr. Bruto." This nickname was derived from the villain in "Popeye the Sailor," who had a full beard and was arrogant and self-righteous, never taking anyone else seriously.

So, what kind of man would earn such a nickname? And why would even most non-Planning Department employees agree with it?

"How could they do this! How could Mr. Bentley do this! As the deputy director of the Planning Department, haven’t I been the one supporting the whole situation for over a month? Haven’t I been the one running the entire department?!" The "Mr. Bruto" as referred by Edward was in his office, throwing a fit. He didn’t sport a beard and was neatly dressed, looking refined, roughly between thirty to forty years old, but the downturned corners of his eyes and thin lips made him seem exceedingly mean.

"Yes, of course, Mr. Fassbinder, but who let that woman... after all, she is the mistress of the chairman of the board of the head office." The assistant cautiously ingratiated himself, "I believe that both Mr. Bentley and the board of ABC have your achievements in view, it’s just that... perhaps Ms. Charlize just wanted to try her hand at some planning works, so Mr. Cowell had to... make such arrangements."

"Stupid woman!" The middle-aged man known as Fassbinder cursed, "Who does she think she is? What does she think planning work is? Does she think she can do it well just by sleeping with men? Look at her planning document!"

Fassbinder, who had been pacing the room in a frenzy, suddenly came over to the desk, picked up a planning document, raised it aloft, and started shaking it around, "Look at this nonsense. A talent show? Who wants to watch a bunch of nobodies jumping around on stage in a talent show! ’Survivor’ is a truly outstanding reality show! Does she think she can just make any program and get ratings above 50 million?!"

The assistant looked down, a flash of scorn passing his lips but immediately returned to a respectful demeanor, while Fassbinder continued to ramble.

"I really don’t understand what Mr. Cowell is thinking. He’s a great director, with genius-like creativity, but why would he indulge such a request? Why not let her make movies instead? The new ’Miracle Girl,’ what a fine title that would be. I would be very happy to help Mr. Cowell make a star out of her." Fassbinder finally softened his tone, clearly aware of whom he could attack and whom he could not.

Indeed, that was precisely the case. This "Mr. Bruto," despite being as temperamental, arrogant, and boastful as the animated character—just as a saying goes, there are no wrong nicknames, only wrong names—always managed to keep his position, largely due to his skill at sensing his superiors’ wishes. This is how office culture always is.

Of course, his uncle had also been a great help, William Aden, one of the few executive directors on the board of ABC, holding the position of Vice President within the broadcasting company, and the distant uncle of Sean Fassbinder. It was thanks to this uncle that Fassbinder had gotten into ABC, and also thanks to this uncle that a few past mistakes had been downplayed.

With support from above, tough on those below, combined with a fairly competent work ability, Fassbinder always seemed arrogant and dismissive, even the original head of the department turned a blind eye to his behavior. Such conduct naturally made the employees very upset, not just those in the Planning Department but also those in other departments. Given that his villainous attitude was comparable to the one in "Popeye," "Mr. Bruto" became his nickname—though many boastful villains existed in animation, everyone agreed that the crude Bruto suited him best—showing just how unpopular he really was.

Mr. Fassbinder was aware of the nickname, yet he took pride in it, even promoting it privately: Yes, I am Bruto, it’s just a pity you all don’t have spinach or Popeye to save you.

"Alright, let’s get ready for the meeting." After venting his anger, Fassbinder finally calmed down, straightened his collar, and returned to his genteel demeanor. "This is the new supervisor’s first meeting in the Planning Department; we can’t be late—everyone’s ready, right, Jeff?"

"Yes, Mr. Fassbinder. Everyone has indicated they will support you," assistant Jeff Fermain maintained a respectful demeanor and then sighed inwardly, anxious about the impending meeting.

"Good, if that lady knows the score, I don’t mind respecting her on the surface," Sean Fasbender began with a cold laugh, waving his hand as he left the office.

Soon, he arrived at the door of the conference room and, after knocking twice symbolically, he walked in. The room, previously abuzz with muted discussions, fell abruptly silent; many lowered their eyes, avoiding Sean’s gaze.

"You are two minutes late, Mr. Sean," said the young lady at the head of the table, busy with some paperwork, who glanced up at him and spoke in an even tone.

"Is that so? My apologies, it seems the clock in my office is a bit slow," Sean chuckled, deliberately taking the first seat on her right. He did this on purpose; being two minutes late wasn’t significant, but within the crowd, he alone had the liberty to be late. If the other party was smart, they should understand what he was implying.

Such a beautiful woman, Sean thought to himself as he observed Charlize. No wonder people say the Miracle Director has a good eye, especially for women. Under the black suit was a thin silk blouse, a knee-length skirt with semi-transparent black stockings, and high heels. Her features were delicate, her face expressionless, and her cold beauty was tantalizing, making one itch to conquer her.

"Let’s hope not next time," Charlize, still looking down and writing, said this shortly afterward.

The slightly commanding tone made Sean raise an eyebrow, but he said nothing, just snorted to himself.

"Alright, now that everyone is here, let’s get started," the stunning ice queen finally put down her pen, "First, let me introduce myself. I’m Charlize Theron, the new head of the planning department. Before taking up this post, I’d been Mr. Adrian Cowell’s secretary assistant for seven years. I neither know nor care what you all might be thinking. I just hope everyone can work seriously and diligently. As the planning department, we need a rich imagination and the ability to turn that imagination into reality. Our department has created many valuable things, and I believe no one here wants to be seen as unproductive, right?"

A thoroughly clichéd speech. Sean judged Charlize’s opening address as such in his mind and discounted the woman even more.

"Good. Now, moving on to the second item on the agenda," Charlize spoke again after a moment of silence, her cool expression almost unchanged, seemingly oblivious to the strange atmosphere in the meeting room, "Regarding the project proposal I handed out, I believe everyone has had a chance to look it over. Does anyone have any questions?"

Still no one answered, even though a few of the staff glanced around before quickly reverting to their demure posture. Displeased with the situation, Sean immediately gave a subtle signal to his assistant sitting beside him.

A nearly imperceptible wry smile briefly crossed Jeff Fermain’s face before he cleared his throat, "To be frank, Miss Charlize, I find the proposal quite original overall, but practically speaking, it doesn’t seem highly feasible. Audiences like excitement, they like drama, not just singing and dancing..."

"That’s exactly why the project proposal was circulated for everyone to read," Charlize interjected swiftly, "No matter how broad one person’s perspective may be, it has its limitations, and that includes geniuses. Therefore, we always need more opinions to refine our plans. That’s why the planning department exists. If you think it’s not thrilling enough, Mr. Jeff, you can suggest how to make it more appealing to the audience, rather than just criticizing its current lack of appeal."

"Um... well..." Fermain grimaced, "Regarding that, we could potentially spice things up with the singers’... um... progression, such as those guaranteed to advance being unable to for various reasons. And of course, big-name stars should be invited to judge. Honestly, this would require a significant investment, and the company already has several reality shows; we don’t need to make such a large investment at this time."

"The former part is quite good, but the latter is still too vague," Charlize replied calmly, "How much investment is needed? What are the specifics of the outlook? Which areas might incur losses?"

"This..." Fermain’s forehead began to bead with sweat, at a loss for what to say next.

Fassbinder glanced at him discontentedly and then swept his gaze over the employees sitting silently in their seats before taking over the conversation, "There’s no need for that, Miss Charlize. Some ideas only require a brief review to reach a conclusion. The problem with this program lies in two aspects: first, the investment is too large, and second, the stage is too limited. If this had been two or three years ago, it might have been worth the company’s investment, but now it’s a bit late."

"Have you looked through my proposal in detail, Mr. Sean?" Charlize, however, did not pay attention to his words but asked directly. At the same time, there was a change in her eyes, a blend of coldness now mixed with a hint of sarcasm and mockery.

This displeased Fassbinder greatly. He considered that he had already spoken with enough grace, and if this woman had any sense, she should have just continued and then announced the meeting’s adjournment. But instead, she asked such a question and made such a face. What was she trying to do? Did she really think she could shoulder the heavy responsibility as the head of the planning department?

"I won’t change my opinion," he said in an impatient tone, waving his hand as if to shoo away a fly, "Your proposal is not bad, Miss Charlize. For someone without a higher education, it’s quite impressive. But I believe everyone present will agree with me."

After saying this, he looked around the meeting room smugly. Although some people exchanged glances and some shifted slightly in their seats, no one spoke up.

"But you haven’t answered my question, Mr. Sean." To many people’s surprise, Charlize was not angry. She still asked in a tone cold with a tinge of sarcasm, "Have you looked through my proposal in detail?"

Was this woman an idiot? Fassbinder was irritated; since he had already said something like "without a higher education," it was essentially a face-off, so he answered without hesitation, "No, there’s no need."

"Then, may I understand that you made this decision without a detailed understanding and study of this proposal, correct?" Her tone of mockery became even more evident, especially with a superior air that made Fassbinder’s forehead throb with annoyance. He almost blurted out, "Yes!"

So what if it was like that? He looked at Charlize with a sneer, full of defiance. Many people once again lowered their heads, unsure whether they felt pity for this new director or were laughing at her overestimating herself.

"So, from now on, you don’t need to come to work." Those words came straight from Charlize’s mouth, and then she turned her head to signal to her secretary, "Eleanor, call Mr. Norman Patrick from security to come up with a few men."

It was only then that everyone in the meeting room came to their senses and looked in shock at Charlize, who was seated at the head of the table.

"Are you an idiot?" Fassbinder’s face turned red, staring at Charlize furiously, as if he couldn’t wait to devour her, "Firing me? Who do you think you are?!"

It was undeniable humiliation. Although he knew she had no right to fire him, in Fassbinder’s view, to say such words in this context was a direct challenge and blatant humiliation! He had to let this woman know that she’d angered him and that she had to pay a price! But would he get that chance?

"Before I came here, Mr. Adrian Cowell from the headquarters, Mr. Claude Ronris, Mr. Antonio Dis from the ABC, Mr. William Aden, and the board of directors of ABC all authorized me to handle all affairs of the planning department, including appointments and dismissals," Charlize said in her eternally unchanging tone of indifference.

Immediately, a mixed sound of sharp intakes of breath rose unevenly, and everyone’s gazes flickered uncertainly. Charlize had no reason to lie, nor to tell such an easily debunked falsehood. Besides, among the people she named, just the board chairman Adrian’s explicit support would be enough to fire Fassbinder—not to mention William Aden, Fassbinder’s distant uncle!

Fassbinder’s face turned from pale to flush, his eyes bulging roundly as he stared at Charlize, his lips trembling and at a loss for words.

"You’re lying!" His voice seemed to be squeezed from his throat as he took deep breaths with veins bulging on his forehead, creating the illusion they might burst at any moment.

"Anyone having doubts can consult them for verification," Charlize said in her usual light and breezy tone, creating a stark contrast with the furious Fassbender.

The employees present couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sympathy; no one expected the Chairman of the Board to support this woman to such an extent. Of course, there was also a sense of schadenfreude—"Mr. Bruto" was finally getting his comeuppance.

At that moment, there was a knock at the door, and then the Head of Security, Norman Patrick, appeared at the doorway of the conference room with two bodyguards in tow: "Is there something you need me for, Miss Charlize?"

"Mr. Sean Fassbender is no longer an employee of this company. Please have the two bodyguards accompany him to pack his things," Charlize said indifferently, as if Fassbender was just an insignificant bit player.

Patrick hesitated for a moment, but then gestured to the bodyguards behind him; a white hulk and a black hulk approached Fassbender from behind and simultaneously gestured for him to proceed. That’s the way it’s done in American companies—once an employee is fired, they’re immediately ordered to pack up and leave, under the watch of a bodyguard. The reason given is the fear of disgruntled ex-employees seeking to cause damage. There’s no such thing as a month’s notice with time to look for a new job.

Fassbender gripped his teeth tightly and took deep breaths. Finally, shaking, he stood up.

"You bitch, you only got to where you are by sleeping with men. Besides that, what other abilities do you have?" He cursed viciously and without any grace.

"It’s a pity you can’t do the same," Charlize replied casually.

Instantly, Fassbender’s face turned red as if his throat had been squeezed, unable to continue his rant. The others around the room gave each other odd looks, seemingly wanting to laugh but not daring to. Finally, he staggered out of the room.

"Has anyone else looked over my proposal in detail?" After the pitiable former Associate Director left, Charlize threw out the previous question again. The atmosphere in the conference room immediately became tense and heavy again. The employees started to become cautious; after all, hardly any of them had spoken well of the new Director just moments before.

However, Charlize said nothing, simply waiting patiently. After a long pause, an employee hesitantly raised a hand.

"Edward Habor," Charlize nodded, "Anybody else?"

Another employee slowly raised their hand after a moment.

"Julianne Harrington, good," Charlize nodded again. "Anyone else?"

No further hands were raised. After about ten minutes, the new Director closed the folder in front of her: "Then, today’s meeting is adjourned. Please remember to read the proposal in detail. Also, Edward, Julianne, and Jeff, please come to my office."

Those seated sighed with relief, then looked with a mixture of envy and jealousy at the three who had been named—especially Jeff Fermain, considering he was Fassbender’s assistant! Looking at Charlize Theron, who calmly finished gathering her things and left the meeting room as if everything were under her control, aloof and unapproachable like an iceberg, a single word unbidden entered everyone’s minds: Queen! (To be continued. If you like this work, you’re welcome to vote for it with recommendation tickets and monthly tickets on Qidian.com. Your support is my greatest motivation.)