hollywood entertainment mogul

"Duka wait!"

Duca got off work at around ten o'clock, and Fat Tom stopped him in front of the bar.

"Originally, I was going to hire another supervisor to help me share the work, but the entire salary is given to you. I think you need to do more work."

"What?"

"From now on, you will be responsible for the business in the hall. Please help me keep an eye on it. If you can find a way to make the business better, maybe I will give you a bonus."

Fat Tom said with a smile.

Duca didn't believe that this stingy guy would give out bonuses, but he had no objection to running the bar business. He mainly sold drinks and danced to prevent people from causing trouble in the bar. There wasn't much other work.

"Can!"

"Haha, that's ridiculous. 5,000 US dollars is not a small amount of money. It's more than what a white-collar worker earns. You are the best employee I've ever seen who knows how to ask for wages."

Tom said, patting his arm.

Duka avoided his palm, and the guy slapped it hard, as if he was seeking revenge.

"Tom, if you think it's not a good deal, I can leave at any time. Do you believe that if I turn around and find a job with a monthly salary of 6,000 US dollars or 10,000 US dollars in another bar?"

Tom chuckled and said, "Of course I believe it. A guy like you who can sell five hundred cocktails a day will naturally have people rushing to get them when he goes out."

"As long as you understand, I'll get paid based on my strength, and you won't lose anything either."

Duca patted the fat man on the shoulder, took the car keys and left the bar.

"Hiss~"

Tom rubbed his shoulders. This bastard is too presumptuous. He doesn't regard himself as the boss at all. No, maybe he should find a senior bartender to kill his arrogance. It's just that it costs money to recruit people. It's really embarrassing.

"Boss, try the cocktail I made. I think it's no different from the one made by Duca."

Tony said with a smile while holding a glass of wine.

"real?"

Tom was a little surprised. Could it be that the two illegal workers he hired were both master bartenders? He took a sip from the cup.

Phew~

"What the hell?"

——

It was dark at night, and Duca drove back to Rossmore Community.

The lights on the surrounding apartment buildings, along with the sound of the TV, the cries of children, and some discordant sounds, made him feel very calm.

He originally planned to buy a luxury home after getting his green card, but after living here for more than two months, he got used to the life here. He goes to work at noon and gets off work at night, just like an ordinary person.

He plans to postpone his plan to buy a house for half a year or a year until he has a female companion. Otherwise, living alone in a big mansion will not be fun.

Returning to the second floor of Building 9, when he was walking in the middle aisle, he saw dim light coming from the window of the apartment next door, as if a new neighbor had moved in.

Duca was a little curious about the gender and appearance of this new neighbor. Could she be a sexy beauty? A future actress?

If so, that's wonderful.

After a rough sleep at night, he had breakfast the next day and ran two laps in nearby Hancock Park. When he came back, he didn't meet any neighbors.

After training, when he went out after twelve o'clock, the neighbor next door happened to come out. He glanced to the side, and the person next door also looked over.

There was a hint of disappointment in the eyes of the two old men.

Duka is 18cm tall, tall and strong, with a tough guy look.

The guy next door is about the same as him, in his twenties, nearly 190cm tall, burly, with a ferocious face. He can play the villain in the movie without makeup.

Besides, this man looked a little familiar.

"Good afternoon, new neighbor. My name is Duca King and I am a bartender."

Duca greeted.

"Hello, my name is Quentin Tarantino. I was an actor in the past, now a screenwriter, and in the future I will be a director."

said the tall Quentin Tarantino in a booming voice.

Duca smiled, and it turned out to be this genius director. His representative works include "Reservoir Dogs", "Pulp Fiction", "Inglourious Basterds", "Django Unchained", "The Hateful Eight", etc. He is said to lead the violent aesthetics of Hollywood movies.

A trendy director.

"Director Tarantino, are you filming a movie here?"

Duca said as he walked.

"No, I'm here to write the script. After I finish the script, maybe I will film it."

Quentin Tarantino said.

"It sounds very good. I hope to see your movie released soon."

"Haha, no problem. Are you a bartender? But you look more like an actor. Your appearance is very unique. You can play police, killers, bad guys, agents, robbers, etc. Maybe you can consider becoming a bartender."

An actor."

Quentin looked at him and said.

"Haha, I will consider it. The bar where I work is on Santa Monica Boulevard Bar Street, Sunshine Boy Bar. You are welcome to come and sit."

"Okay, I'll come."

When they came downstairs, the two shook hands, got in the car and left the apartment.

——

He came out early at noon, and there were still two or three hours before going to work. Duka drove to the shooting club in the eastern suburbs, where he planned to practice marksmanship for two hours.

The police pistol he used for practice was the Glock 17, with a length of 183mm, a full bullet weight of 910g, and a 9mm bullet, with an effective range of 50 meters.

In the past, his marksmanship was good. Ten rounds of bullets could hit at least five ten-ring marks at a position of 50 meters.

Since the pistol has a short range, low stability, and difficulty in aiming, this level is considered a master in the industry.

Now his marksmanship has improved tremendously after being strengthened. On a fifty-meter target, with ten bullets and ten rings, the hit rate is as high as 96%.

On a 100-meter target, the probability of hitting the tenth ring is more than 80%.

There is a feeling of hitting wherever you point, with perfect accuracy, this feeling is super cool!

While he was practicing his gun, there were two strong men watching from the side. One of them, a young strong man wearing a green military T-shirt, looked at it for a while and shook his head.

"The postures and techniques are all good, but the hit rate is too low. Only one bullet out of 10 hits the red heart. More practice is needed."

The other older man said nothing and frowned slightly as he stared at the target.

Bang bang bang~

Duca finished firing a magazine, took off his headset, and wiped his hands with a towel. Although his strength had increased, the recoil of the pistol was relatively large. After firing more than a hundred shots, his hands were also a little sore, swollen, and numb.

"Hey, man, do you want to practice shooting with us? I promise to increase your hit rate by 50% within three months."

The strong man in a green T-shirt stepped forward and said.

"Thank you. I just practice casually and regard shooting as a way to relieve stress. The hit rate is not important."

Duca smiled, took the pistol and towel and left the shooting range.

"That's a shame, this guy looks like he has a lot of potential, right Coach Foster?"

asked the strong man in a green T-shirt.

The older coach Foster shook his head slightly. He walked to the shooting window, pressed the switch, and the target on the target slowly moved to the window.

"Look here!"

Coach Foster pointed at the target paper and said, "This is the first shot, 5 rings are on the upper left, the second shot is 6 rings on the lower right, the third shot is 5 rings on the middle, the fourth shot is 6 rings on the middle, and the fifth shot is 7 rings.

Bottom left, sixth shot with 8 rings, upper right, seventh shot with 7 rings, eighth shot with 8 rings...Don’t you see the pattern?”

"Ah? You said he did it on purpose? This is impossible, this is absolutely impossible. No one can do this with a pistol."

The strong man in the green T-shirt shook his head.

Coach Foster frowned. It was indeed extremely difficult to shoot like this. It was no worse than 10 rings on the target. Is this person a real sharpshooter or a coincidence?

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"Hope to see him here again."

——