Love? The Reborn Me Just Wants to Obtain Rewards
Chapter 909 - 376: Here Comes the Pot Smash!_2

Chapter 909: Chapter 376: Here Comes the Pot Smash!_2

"This doesn’t feel right!"

Zhang was highly alert, starting to suspect foul play.

Su Huai chuckled, "Nothing’s off. Now that they’re all in the same boat, they’re having even more fun."

"Damn, these guys really have no conscience..." Zhang sighed, "Battle Through the Heavens is the top-tier male audience IP. Tsk tsk..."

"Not all that valuable, though." Su Huai shook his head, "The drama adaptation of Battle Through the Heavens is hard to pull off. The adaptation of upgrade-oriented novels is far harder than plot-driven ones like Joy of Life. It has the name, sure, but it’s better off being used as a cash cow."

Zhang smacked his lips, "True. Weak plot, high demands for special effects, it’s just not worth the fuss."

Their choice of Battle Through the Heavens wasn’t random—it had the biggest name but the least intrinsic value. If they earnestly pour effort into it, the risks would be massive. Instead, they’d rather use it to line their own pockets.

The same logic applied to Chendong’s big IPs, like Divine Tomb Covering the Sky. Once initiated, 90% of the time it’s just a cash grab.

The producers and distributors were never going to take a loss. The so-called six or eight hundred million yuan budgets? 80% of that was financial schemes, sold to lower-tier markets by figures like Gu Tonglin.

The director and producer spend two hundred million to shoot the drama and discreetly pocket a hundred million in profits.

The remaining millions get split by the various distributors, and when the release bombs, it’s the small and midsize investors that trusted the Battle Through the Heavens name that take the hits. Meanwhile, the insiders count money with glee.

When it comes to dirty games, both finance and entertainment circles are unparalleled, let alone when they join forces.

But they really shouldn’t have tried to play Su Huai.

That, at least, seemed a little misguided.

The next day, Mr. Jiang from Yida Film and Television called Su Huai, subtly inviting him out for a meeting. When Su Huai declined, he went on to ask if Su would consider a stake in Yida’s movie project for next year.

"What specific project are we talking about?"

Su Huai stayed cautious, but Mr. Jiang got straight to the point: "Detective Tangren Street 2. What do you think, Mr. Su? Isn’t this genuine sincerity from old Jiang?"

Su Huai immediately burst out laughing.

"Sincere, very sincere, Mr. Jiang. Oh, you, oh, you..."

The man really knew how to play the game.

They had already let Xingyu milk the overvalued Battle Through the Heavens, yet here they were—still afraid Su might be dissatisfied. To ensure a good relationship, they were even willing to share a blockbuster sequel like Detective Tangren Street 2. Truly playing the "earnestly making friends" card.

Yet this only made Su Huai even more certain that Jiang wouldn’t last long at Yida Film and Television. Fundamentally, what he was doing was abusing public resources for personal connections.

Too bad Su Huai wasn’t interested.

"I’ll pass on the project, but I truly appreciate the gesture, Mr. Jiang. Let’s collaborate again when we find the right opportunity."

"Alright then, we’ll find something to work on together someday."

Great, Yida wasn’t planning to screw me.

Having confirmed that, Su Huai also probed Xinli Media through Penguin Video. Their stance seemed to be to avoid deep ties with Xingyu but not to provoke it either, ruling out another potential adversary.

Which left only Gu Tonglin. What was he up to exactly?

Deadly intentions beneath a calm surface, biding in silence.

By the end of the year, Su Huai finally found out.

Gu Tonglin had started quietly approaching Xingyu’s wealthy players.

He didn’t target the core members of the consortium but instead sought out peripheral players, using the pitch of Xingyu Investment’s first major IP to sell them shares of Battle Through the Heavens.

"Holy shit! The bastard’s got talent!"

Looking at the data, Su Huai was borderline impressed.

Gu Tonglin was indeed imaginative, and his user profiling was eerily on point.

The so-called "peripheral players" mostly shared the following traits—

New to livestream platforms, not deeply tied to the Xingyu Consortium, had some disposable wealth, spending between 200,000 to 1 million yuan, investment-oriented but lacking proper channels, and almost none of them were based in Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou, or Shenzhen.

Gu Tonglin seemed to possess some method to pinpoint these individuals’ stock accounts and bank balances, even accurately linking their platform IDs to registered phone numbers.

"These treacherous scumbags!"

Su Huai laughed in anger. The leakage hotbeds were Panda, Douyu, YY; Kuaishou and Huya were relatively better, while mid-tier platforms like 6Rooms fell somewhere in between.

And Panda was Xingyu’s own platform!

To think it could be breached just like that.

It didn’t even require speculation—surely some high-ranking executive in the operations department had leaked player data, which Gu Tonglin had then sifted to find his targets.

The bastard had a few advantages here.

First, by piggybacking off Xingyu’s reputation, he boosted trust in his venture, making the shares easier to sell.

Second, it was precision marketing—cost-effective and stealthy.

Third, when the inevitable financial losses hit, he could easily walk away, leaving Xingyu to shoulder the blame.

If it weren’t for the fact that his marketing inadvertently targeted one of Su Huai’s alternate accounts, trying to sell Battle Through the Heavens shares to a Commander-ranked player, Su Huai might never have noticed the scheme until the launch.

"Alright, so this is how you want to play it?"

Su Huai immediately instructed that same Commander, "Quietly investigate who’s bought shares of Battle Through the Heavens."

Unrelenting and highly effective data-miners quickly returned information on three real individuals, each having bought 1 million yuan worth—standard shares.

Among the three, one was from Hefei, one from the Northeast, and one from Su Bei.

Su Huai logged into his long-unused Turbid Dog account and privately messaged the Northeast player on the Panda platform.

"This is Turbid Dog. I’d like to ask you something."

The guy was flattered and immediately sent over his phone number.

Using his iconic number, 15800888888, Su Huai called and asked about the investment.

The guy was pretty cautious, catching on quickly: "Gou God, is there a problem with this product?"

Su Huai bluntly replied, "The valuation’s way too high—it’s clearly designed to make you guys take the fall. Tell me more about their specifics."

The guy spilled everything like beans dropped out of a bamboo tube, and Su Huai finally pieced together Gu Tonglin’s entire playbook.