At the end of July, on a weekend night, a small party was taking place in a bar on one of the high floors of the Twin Towers in New York.
"Cheers..." Nate raised his glass and lightly clinked it with Gilbert's before offering a compliment. "Gilbert, I really enjoy your films, especially Saving Private Ryan. It truly captures the history of World War II."
"History should never be forgotten, and neither should the suffering of our people. Don't you agree?"
Gilbert raised an eyebrow. Ever since that phone call, this was already his third meeting with Nate's group in the past two weeks.
They could be described as having "pleasant conversations" and "hitting it off instantly."
Hearing Nate's words, Gilbert responded, "Indeed, no matter who they are, people around the world should never forget the suffering that war brings."
What he meant was that not only Nate's people but many other nations and ethnic groups around the world had suffered the horrors of war.
Nate either pretended not to understand or simply ignored it. Once again, he raised his glass and said, "Let us toast to those who perished in Auschwitz."
"To all the innocent lives lost and wounded in war..." Gilbert deliberately included everyone, pulling Nate's people down from the pedestal of victimization.
The party ended in haste. On the way back, Nate spoke to Marvell. "I've been testing Gilbert's stance repeatedly, but he still refuses to give a direct answer about whether he will join us.
"Also, whenever I bring up historical grievances, he always shifts the focus to include others.
"We sacrificed so much for the world, and we deserve its sympathy, yet he doesn't seem to think so.
"We made great sacrifices, but to him, we are just like everyone else..."
It seemed that after years of indoctrinating others, Nate's group had even managed to brainwash themselves.
Publicly, they shouted slogans about equality—though it was never truly practiced—but at least they maintained the illusion.
Yet, Nate's group didn't even want to pretend. In their eyes, they were the ultimate victims who deserved special treatment from the world, and therefore, anything they did was justified.
Marvell stroked his chin in thought. "It doesn't really matter. As long as we have common ground, sooner or later, Gilbert will come to agree with us."
"That's true." Nate nodded in agreement before asking, "How's your investigation into Gilbert's father coming along? Any findings?"
Marvell replied, "I've uncovered some leads. Gilbert's father was involved in a murder case back in the late '70s. That's the real reason he withdrew from Hollywood."
"A murder case?" Nate asked with interest.
Marvell explained, "This case was covered up at the time, so I couldn't find much information. The people involved have remained tight-lipped.
"But do you remember Ned Weiss?"
"I've heard of him," Nate nodded. "He was a professor at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, a renowned scholar of the New Testament, and also a senior government advisor.
"Didn't he die of a heart attack? Was there more to it?"
"That's right," Marvell lowered his voice even though they were alone in the car. "He didn't actually die of a heart attack. He was murdered."
"Are you saying Gilbert's father was the killer?" Nate was shocked.
"No, but this murder case was deeply connected to him. He was the cause of it all," Marvell explained.
"Then how can we use this?" Nate asked.
Marvell pondered for a moment before answering, "I don't have all the details yet, but back then, even though Gilbert's father chose to step away, there must have been people who were dissatisfied with the outcome.
"What we need to do is link those people's grievances to Gilbert himself."
"You mean… make them, and us, see Gilbert as a potential threat to our unity?"
"No, just use this as leverage in negotiations," Marvell said with a confident smile. "That way, he'll have no choice but to comply."
Nate immediately understood, and both of them exchanged greedy smiles.
They thought of Gilbert's lavish estate in Los Angeles, his newly purchased mansion on Long Island, and—most enviably—the women surrounding him: Naomi Watts, Cameron Diaz…
Nate, in particular, had a preference for Charlize Theron. Those long legs of hers drove him wild. He was also drawn to Jennifer Connelly.
Marvell, on the other hand, had his eyes on the petite Scarlett. The mere thought of having her beneath him made his grin turn twisted.
But beyond their personal desires, what they truly coveted was Gilbert's immense wealth.
As one of America's most famous billionaires, Gilbert had built an empire. If he wanted to keep everything he had worked for—his status, his fortune, and his women—he would have to play by their rules.
If he refused?
They only had to make their move, and once different factions got involved, the higher Gilbert had climbed, the harder he would fall.
As for Disney and Warner backing him?
At this stage, the game had already moved beyond the entertainment industry. In the face of major capital and financial powerhouses, media conglomerates were nothing.
Nate was confident that with the right incentives, Robert Iger and Doug Walter would obey like well-trained dogs, without so much as a whimper.
But their years of unchecked dominance had made Nate and Marvell dangerously overconfident.
They failed to consider that the outside world wouldn't blindly fall for baseless accusations against a globally renowned director like Gilbert.
Gilbert was no Michael Jackson.
Everyone—both the media and those in the know—understood that Michael Jackson had been falsely accused. Yet, they still went out of their way to smear and destroy him.
Why?
Because Michael Jackson was Black. He had stepped into forbidden territory, gained too much influence, and thus, the consensus among the white elite was that he had to be taken down.
A wealthy heir from a prominent family once said, "I love MJ, but precisely because of that, he has to die in people's minds."
Michael Jackson never truly disappeared from people's hearts, but he was forced into a downward spiral of suffering.
And the ones who orchestrated his downfall? The mainstream elite who controlled the media narrative.
But Gilbert was different. He was one of them.
When it came to outsiders, the elite could stand united in their oppression. But if they tried the same tactics on one of their own? There would inevitably be internal disagreements.
Sure enough, when Nate and Marvell returned to the island and presented their plan to the higher-ups, they were met with outright rejection.
"Absolutely not. This is completely out of the question," one of the major figures objected immediately.
Nate was baffled. "Why?"
The big shot said, "Gilbert's image and reputation have been built over more than a decade in the industry, and we've put in a lot of effort. He is our banner, our emblem. There are countless people around the world who believe in our myth because of him.
But now, what you're proposing is destroying the very foundation of that myth."
Indeed, the Squid Group was adept at using public opinion to its advantage, crafting a grand and righteous image for itself, especially excelling at building connections—just like with the famous Einstein.
And Gilbert was undoubtedly the latest myth. In recent years, newly published stories highlighting the intelligence of the Squids often featured him.
If Gilbert weren't a Squid and hadn't been blessed by God, how could one possibly explain the incredible, almost incomprehensible achievements he had made at such a young age?
This couldn't be separated from the relentless efforts of the Squid media, constantly reporting on him and shaping this myth.
Gilbert didn't need to make any moves himself—he had the aura of a great scholar with countless voices speaking on his behalf.
Nate hurriedly explained, "We're not trying to frame Gilbert as a murderer or anything like that. We're just telling him what we intend to do."
"Hmph!" The big shot sneered. "Do you think this is some kind of game? Do you think Gilbert has made it this far by sheer luck?
Let me tell you, your threats will have no effect whatsoever because he knows you would never actually go through with it."
"Then what should we do?" Nate was growing frustrated. "We've investigated Gilbert thoroughly—he doesn't drink excessively, he doesn't commit domestic violence, he doesn't do drugs, and he doesn't engage in inappropriate behavior with minors.
Aside from having a lot of girlfriends, he's practically a saint sent down by God."
If Gilbert heard this, he would probably laugh his head off.
This also indirectly proved just how twisted the worldview of the people on this island was. Gilbert was simply a normal person, yet they viewed him as a flawless moral paragon.
It only went to show that in this crazy and decadent society, being a normal person was enough to make one an outlier.
At this moment, another big shot spoke up. "Nate, didn't I hear that you were planning to invite Gilbert's father to the island?"
Calling it an "invitation" was putting it nicely—this was nothing short of coercion.
Nate's expression darkened. "I was planning to, but that man is very shrewd. Before we even had the chance to send someone for him, he fled to China."
The other big shot frowned. "That's on you, Nate. How could you let an old man stay in a foreign country for so long? Hurry up and send someone to bring him back. Tell him that if he doesn't return, his son will be in serious trouble."
One had to admit—people are inherently selfish. This was the dark side of human nature. But no matter how cruel a person might be, even a tiger wouldn't eat its own cubs. To protect his child, the old man might just give in.
Of course, there were rare cases where people didn't care about their own children—but that was a different story.
Nate's eyes flickered with thought, then he nodded in agreement with the big shot's suggestion. "Alright, I'll send someone to China and let him know—if he doesn't come back, then the Landrini family will be finished."
"Good. Go do it!" The big shot added, "Bringing Gilbert into the fold was your idea. If you can't even accomplish this, then don't bother coming back to the island."
Nate silently cursed—clearly, they had hinted for him to do this, yet in the end, he was the one taking the fall? But he dared not defy the island's high command. These people weren't just influential figures; they had close ties with the Anglo-Saxon elite and countless financial giants.
On the surface, Nate seemed powerful, able to call the shots in the Squid world, but in front of these big shots, he was still nothing more than a subordinate.
After Nate and Marvelle left, one big shot turned to another and asked, "Mongert, do you know what happened on that night in 1979?"
"I know a little."
"Tell me—I'd like to hear more…"
Mongert sank into his memories. "It was Thanksgiving in 1979. I remember it very clearly…"
On Thanksgiving in 1979, a grand party was held at a private club in New York.
A renowned professor from the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, Ned Weiss, was visiting New York University for an academic exchange and had been invited to the party.
The host of the party was a well-known New York businessman named Marquita. The purpose of the event was to raise donations from wealthy Squids in support of the three-letter region on the eastern Mediterranean coast.
Hollywood producer Gilbert Landrini was also invited. He had just produced a documentary detailing the suffering of the Squids, which had been widely praised in Squid circles.
The reason for inviting Ned Weiss was to have him say a few words endorsing the fundraising effort—after all, he was from Jerusalem, and his backing carried weight.
It was said that Ned Weiss had a strong preference for young girls, especially those under the age of fourteen. So Marquita arranged for more than twenty young girls to be present.
Among them was a pair of twin sisters, exceptionally beautiful, who were assigned to Gilbert Landrini.
At that moment, Ned Weiss spoke up: "Gilbert, if it's possible…"
Gilbert Landrini understood instantly. "Of course, sir, you first."
And so, Gilbert Landrini let Ned Weiss take the twin sisters while he chose a voluptuous blonde instead.
Gilbert Landrini had always preferred mature, curvaceous blondes—young girls didn't appeal to him in the slightest.
Thus, he inadvertently missed his one and only chance to engage in such an act, miraculously keeping his record clean.
Of course, back then, media networks weren't as widespread, and most of the press was controlled by Squid conglomerates, so no outsiders would ever know about this.
Gilbert Landrini didn't think much of it either—he simply took his blonde companion and went off to enjoy himself.
But as he left, he failed to notice that the eyes of the twin sisters did not carry the same innocent or numb expression as the other girls.
Instead, they were filled with hatred—especially as they were forced to serve a man nearing seventy.
Ned Weisss didn't like playing in groups, so he took the twins to a dark red room.
The twin sisters knew they had no chance of survival. With resolute expressions, they used the twisted tools in the room to end their own lives.
Due to the loud music outside, no one noticed what had happened in the room.
It wasn't until the party host, Marquita, had finished his own entertainment and went to discuss something with Ned Weiss that the situation was discovered.
He knocked on the door and joked, "Wow, Ned Weiss, I didn't think you still had this much energy at your age!"
"Ned, come on, don't wear them out completely—leave them alive."
"Ned?"
There was no response for a long time. Marquita started to sense something was wrong. He could smell the stench of death.
Panicking, Marquita quickly called for someone to open the door.
T/N :This is purely Fictional
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