The Tyrant Billionaire

Chapter 52: Chapter 52 Father's Resolve

Cloak.

Cowboy hat.

Thick stubble on his face.

Deep eyes.

A half-smoked cigar in his mouth.

A revolver hanging from his waist.

A look of wildness and recklessness was immediately apparent.

Nolan circled around Eastwood for quite some time, looking him up and down, and finally turned to Hardy with some excitement, saying, "Hardy, I'm getting a feeling about him."

Hardy looked at Eastwood and asked "Have you signed with a brokerage company?"

"I have in the past, but after the expiration of the first two years, I didn't sign again." Eastwood replied.

"Would you like to sign a contract with my agency? The protagonist of this movie will be yours." Hardy proposed.

"I'm willing," Eastwood agreed without hesitation.

He had been playing supporting roles for ten years, waiting for an opportunity like this. Now that a leading role was presented to him, he was determined to seize it no matter what.

The terms offered by Hardy's agency were decent—70/30 split, with the company taking 70% and the individual taking 30%. This was a 10% improvement over his last contract, and Eastwood gladly signed.

Hardy was also delighted; he hadn't expected to secure a future star. This deal was definitely a safe and profitable investment, perhaps even a lucrative one.

With the lead actor confirmed, the choice of supporting roles became easier. Hardy no longer interfered with these decisions, leaving them all to director Nolan.

Hardy then went to the recording studio to check on Ava. She and the composers were busy. finalizing the recording would likely take a few more days.

Upon returning to his office, the phone suddenly rang.

Answering it, he was surprised to hear Richard's voice on the other end.

Hardy came to the film company and told his brothers his contact information so that they could call him in case of emergency.

"What's wrong, Richard?" Hardy asked.

"Hardy, I want you to meet someone."

"Who?"

"Do you remember Major James Lancer?"

Hardy drove to the toy factory. The factory had been cleaned up to serve as a residence; a new sign at the entrance read "HD Security Company."

During this time, Henry, Matthews and others had been gradually locating several of their former comrades. Hardy had managed to visit them once during this period, and now they were all arranged to reside here.

Inside the meeting room,

Hardy saw Richard conversing with a somewhat haggard middle aged man wearing a wrinkled suit and a sparse beard. What stood out most was the wooden stick in place of one of his legs.

Clearly, it was a prosthetic limb.

Despite the passage of years, Hardy immediately recognized the man before him Major James Lancer, Marine Corps Operations Staff.

Hardy's memory flashed back to 1942.

During the Battle of Guadalcanal,

Major Lancer, serving as a operations staff officer, was engaged in military operations with the Marine battalion when they encountered an ambush shortly after landing. They were heavily bombarded by the Japanese artillery, resulting in many casualties. Major Lancer lost a leg in the shelling.

At that time, Hardy was a squad leader not far from Major Lancer. Despite the artillery fire, Hardy bravely approached and pulled Lancer out, with Richard and others helping carry him away from the battlefield.

Since then, Hardy had never seen Major Lancer again.

Three years had passed in a blink of an eye.

Hardy walked into the room and stood before Major Lancer. "Major Lancer, do you remember me?"

Supporting himself with an armrest, Major Lancer looked sincerely at Hardy. "Of course, Jon Hardy. We fought side by side once. When I lost my thigh to a shell, it was you who led the team to carry me out of the battlefield."

"How have you been these years?" Hardy asked after they sat down.

Major Lancer hesitated slightly.

Shaking his head.

"You should be able to tell, things haven't been good."

"After being injured, I was sent to a field hospital and took months to recover. But losing a leg meant I could never return to the unit."

"After retiring and returning home, life dealt me another heavy blow. My wife had found a lover during my absence and insisted on divorcing me when she saw my disability. I tried to salvage the relationship, but to no avail. In the end, she left with our two children."

"I lost a leg and couldn't do regular work, not even in a factory. Eventually, I got a job as a warehouse keeper through a friend's recommendation."

"In that factory, I met someone else who had served in the Marine Corps, named Tommy. He came to me a few days ago, saying a friend asked him to come to Los Angeles, recruiting only military veterans."

"Major, I assume you know what we're up to. Are you prepared to join?"

"After my divorce, I needed to pay child support every month to gain visitation rights with my kids. Without giving money, I wouldn't even have the right to see them. I love them, very, very much."

At this point, Lancer gritted his teeth forcefully.

"I want to earn money to provide enough child support for them, and even give them a better life. I want to reclaim the dignity of being a father; I don't care about anything else."

Lancer looked at Hardy and said, "Hardy, could I ask you for a favor? I don't have enough money right now. I want to give my children a better future, by sending them to a private school. the community schools where they live are dirty and messy and don't have enough teachers, I don't want my failure as a father to hinder their future."

"No problem," Hardy agreed without any hesitation.

Today was the weekend.

Richard drove Lancer to the old town district.

They stopped in front of a small courtyard.

Lancer had purposely shaved and tidied himself up today, wearing a fitted suit. He looked much better overall.

"Richard, please wait here for a moment."

"You go in, I'll listen to the radio in the car," Richard smiled.

Lancer got out of the car, holding gifts for his children. Despite his limp, he walked to the door and pressed the doorbell.

Before long, a woman in her thirties opened the door.

There were bruises at the corners of the woman's eyes. Even though she was covering them up with her hair, they were still visible. Lancer wondered to himself if she had been beaten by her current man again.

If she was his wife and someone harmed his family like this, he would kill that bastard. But now, this woman has nothing to do with him.

"I've come to see the children," Lancer said.

The woman glanced at the man, feeling that he seemed different from before, then looked at the black sedan parked by the roadside.

She turned back into the house and shouted, "Gina, Samantha, come out for a moment."

Soon, two girls ran out of the house. Seeing Lancer, they squealed with excitement, "Daddy! Daddy's here!"

The elder daughter Gina was 12 years old this year, while the younger Samantha was only 9. Samantha hugged Lancer's neck and cooed, "Daddy, you haven't visited us in so long."

"I'm sorry, Daddy's been busy lately."

Lancer looked up at his ex wife and said, "Mary, it's been a while since I've seen the kids. Today, I'd like to take them to the playground for the day. What do you think?"

The woman looked at her two daughters who looked excited and eager to try, and nodded in agreement. The two girls shouted excitedly.

"Gina, Samantha, bring your backpacks." Lancer said.

"Okay daddy." The two girls ran back to the house excitedly to pack their things.

Lancer and his ex wife stood at the door, silent for a while. Finally, the woman looked at Lancer and asked, "Lancer, did you bring the child support money?"

"I did."

Lancer took out $200 from his pocket and handed it to the woman, who quickly took it and held it in her hand.

"Mary, I want to discuss something with you. I want to send the kids to a private boarding school," Lancer said.

"A private school? Where would you get the money for an expensive private school?" Mary frowned.

"I'll cover the expenses."

"Well, well, has Mr. Lancer struck it rich?" A mocking voice came from inside the house. Shortly after, a thin man walked out, stood beside Mary, and placed his arm around her shoulder, his face carrying a sneering smirk as he looked at Lancer.

"Sending them to a private school? Do you know how much that costs? With just your warehouse job, can you afford it? If you're really wealthy now, why not increase the child support? The two kids are growing up, and expenses are increasing. It's time to pay more for their upbringing."