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Category
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Short filmTranscript
00:00I am William Johnson, President of WJ Tech, Manhattan. I was an unknown engineer,
00:07so poor that I couldn't afford to buy a software to start my life.
00:12And the person who helped me then was David, a man who didn't know who I was,
00:18but was still willing to give me the first chance. Today, his company is being oppressed,
00:25smeared, isolated, brought to the brink of bankruptcy. What an irony. The one who did it
00:33was a subsidiary under my group, lowering his voice, restrained. I can't ignore it. I have to
00:40teach them a lesson, and repay the favor of the past in the only way I know, without noise,
00:47without fanfare. Just the right time, in the right place, is enough to turn the whole chessboard
00:54around. Into the meeting room. Northlight Studios. Morning. Opening sounds. The rapid tapping of
01:02keyboards. The incessant ringing of phones. The scratching of pens on documents. The space is
01:09closed. The fluorescent light falls on the long, dark wooden conference table. The large screen on
01:16the wall is showing a red financial chart that keeps going down. David Tran. 42 years old. Director of
01:26Northlight Studios. Stands at the head of the table. His hand is holding a cold paper cup of coffee.
01:34His eyes are red and deep, as if he hasn't slept for many nights. David. Voice horse urgent.
01:42Last night, three more customers withdrew their orders. We lost 40% of our contract in two weeks.
01:50Dynex has blocked all major suppliers. He throws the contract on the table. It slides away,
01:58turns halfway, and stops in front of an employee. Staff, timidly. I'm sorry, David. And the rumor that
02:08you've received black money in Asia is spreading through the internal forums. David fell silent.
02:15He turned away. His hands shook slightly. His shoulders slumped. On his desk, a photo of him
02:23with his old team, smiling, enthusiastic, lay askew next to a stack of debt papers,
02:29interior analytics office, WJ Tech. At the same time, Maya, Williams' assistant, walked in. In her hand
02:39was a tablet displaying corporate news. The screen displayed the Northlight Studios logo with the
02:46red words, Cracked Trust. William Johnson, CEO of WJ Tech, wearing a white shirt, a light gray cardigan,
02:57was standing in front of a map linking corporate data. He turned his head slightly when he heard Maya
03:04enter. She handed him the tablet. Maya, David Tran, Northlight is down. William is silent. His eyes
03:13shift from the map screen to Maya's face. William, low, almost whispering. He lent me an old computer.
03:21Back then, no one believed I could learn to code. William folds the phone. No words. Only his eyes are
03:30determined. Extieu. Northlight headquarters. Noon. A shot from a distance. A shiny black SUV pulls up
03:39quietly on the side of the road. William steps out. No secretary, no name tag. Just a canvas bag,
03:47a brown tweed jacket, and a straight gaze. He raises his head, looking at the blurred words.
03:55Northlight Studios. We work for light in every frame. A shadow passes behind him. No one notices.
04:04William walks up the stairs. Into your hall. Northlight Studios. The wind whistles through the crack in the
04:10door. A fluorescent light flickers. William stops in front of the reception desk. The receptionist
04:17looks up, glancing at the casually-dressed, middle-aged man. William. Polite. Gentle.
04:24I'm William. Introduced from the Resource Cost Analysis Department. I have an appointment with
04:30Director Tran. The receptionist frowns but nods. Points to the stairs. No further questions.
04:37Interior meeting room. Northlight. A few minutes later. The door opens. William enters. Light from
04:46the window falls diagonally across his face. David is sitting at the back of the room. His eyes are
04:53glued to the computer screen. He doesn't look at the person who enters. David. Tired. Not turning.
05:01Please sit. You're the analyst, right? William nods. He doesn't mention any title. He doesn't hand over
05:09his business card. He just opens his duffel bag and takes out a stack of documents and an old
05:14computer. William. I was sent to assist if there's an emergency solution to the resource allocation
05:21items. I don't represent anyone. I just work with data. David turns. His eyes narrow. But he exhales.
05:31David. You're the last one today. If you have anything, keep it brief. William smiles. Nods. Sits
05:41down. As quiet as the shadows outside the window. Interior outer room. Glass corridor. Maya stands
05:49outside. Through the frosted glass, she sees William sitting across from David. Wordless. Expressionless.
05:58Maya. Maya. In her head. Whispering. You've come back. But not to take anything back. Only to pay back
06:07what people once believed. She put her hand on her chest, squeezing it gently. A deep breath. A drop
06:15of admiration. The scene ends at exactly five minutes. With the image. Two men sitting opposite each other.
06:23Two paths intersecting. But only one recognizes it. The wall clock ticks each beat. Tense. But
06:32quiet. A redemption begins in silence. Data analysis room. Light. The room was closed. The cold white
06:41light from the ceiling shining straight down on the table. The documents were piled up in a mess.
06:47The computer screen. The computer screen was constantly on, displaying complex spreadsheets
06:52and digital contracts. William sat pensively in front of the screen. His right hand held a pen,
07:01tapping lightly on the edge of the table. His left hand gently stroked the mouse, stopping at a small
07:07paragraph at the end of the contract. His eyes focused, as still as standing water. A faint line of text
07:15appeared. Unilateral adjustment clause. If the recipient does not meet the technical requirements.
07:23William frowned. His head tilted slightly. A pause. He opened another document, compared it,
07:31then slowly wrote by hand in his notebook. The blue ink line. This detail violates the February 2022
07:40post-production technical update. The space was completely quiet. Only the sound of the keyboard
07:46and the computer fan remained. David's office. Thirty minutes later. The air in the room was heavy,
07:54as thick as if it could be squeezed. The window blinds were drawn. The light filtering only through
08:00the gaps in the fabric. The desk was piled high with documents. The cold coffee smelled faintly bitter.
08:07David sat with his head in his hands. His hair was disheveled. His shirt wrinkled and unbuttoned.
08:15The finance assistant had just stood up, his face confused. Still holding the spreadsheet.
08:21Assistant, in a low voice. If we don't agree to the new adjustment,
08:27they'll use technical reasons and cut off all supplies. David sighed. A heavy sigh. He put his hand to his
08:35forehead. Eyes closed. David, tired. I know. I know. But there's so much going on at once.
08:46A knock sounded on the door. Soft, steady. David didn't look up. David, slightly snapping. Come in.
08:55William walked in, still with his usual calm demeanor. Dark suit, serious face, holding a folder. He stood
09:04still for a few seconds, waiting for a moment of silence. William, low voice. I found a remarkable
09:11detail in the Ghost Corps contract. David raised his head, looked at him. His eyes were tired, dry,
09:20impatient. David, do you have any more contracts to analyze? My entire legal team has read them.
09:27William, there's nothing wrong. William placed the folder on the table. His movements were slow,
09:34decisive. He flipped through the pages, pausing at the end. William, here. This line is using the
09:432020 standard, but the latest technical update is February 2022. David frowned.
09:53Sit back in his chair, still not saying anything. William, in a calm voice.
09:59Ghost Corps can lose its right to adjust if you complain in writing, based on the update discrepancy.
10:06They can't unilaterally terminate the contract if it's wrong at the source.
10:12David blinked. His eyes stopped at the line William pointed to.
10:17A beat passed. Then he chuckled. A sneer, light as a breeze but filled with doubt.
10:24David, you think a few small print sentences will save me from a whole media campaign?
10:30Or are you just trying to prove that you're not useless?
10:35William looked at him. His gaze didn't change, just tilted his head slightly.
10:40William softly. I'm not proving anything. I'm just asking questions where others have missed them.
10:48Dynex Center. Media. The space is filled with white lights, transparent glass walls.
10:55Laughter, ringing phones, the sound of keys being pressed as fast as rain.
11:00Maxwell Grant stands in the middle of the room. His face is pale. His hair is combed back. His black
11:08suit is shiny. He stares at the computer screen in front of him. On it. Breaking. Northlight Studios,
11:16suspected of receiving secret investment from an Asian fund. He smiles half-heartedly. A satisfied
11:23smile but full of poison. Maxwell coldly. Keep pushing. The more people believe, the less people
11:31care about the truth. He turns to the media staff. Maxwell. Run the hashtag Nat Dark Light. Place paid
11:40ads on four major channels. Put David's photo next to the free-fall chart. We don't need to attack.
11:47Just spread. Coffee shop. Off the street. Afternoon. It was raining lightly outside. Water droplets
11:56were trailing down the glass door. The space inside the shop was warm, yellow light reflecting off the
12:03wooden floor. David sat alone at the end table. In front of him was an untouched cup of coffee,
12:12the surface of the water as still as a mirror. His phone lit up. A text message from a partner read,
12:20Suspend cooperation until your company clarifies the rumours. David put the phone down on the table.
12:28His hand squeezed the rim of the cup lightly. The mist gradually faded from his glasses.
12:33Maya appeared behind him. She sat down on the chair opposite. Put the tablet on the table. On it. Data
12:42diagram. Analysis. Text. Hidden legal structure. Ghostcore. Dynex. Maya. William is not an ordinary
12:52person. He knows what he is doing. David looked at her. His eyes seemed to open to a faint memory.
13:00David. I'm not sure I understand him. But I've seen that look before. Analysis room. Night. The room
13:08was almost dark. Only the screen in front of William glowed with a soft blue light. He was sitting
13:15silently. Typing slowly. Data streams appeared one after another. Ghostcore. Dynex Media. WJ Holdings.
13:25WJ Tech. He opened the private interface. Entered the access code. Activated internal terms.
13:34A line appeared. Activated internal ethics. Branch DO3. He breathed lightly. Eyes looking through the
13:43side window. The night lights outside the city twinkle dimly in the distance. No one knows. Strategy
13:50meeting room. Neo's headquarters. Morning. The atmosphere in the meeting room is thick.
13:57The ceiling is high, surrounded by glass walls. White light is reflected from long rows of lamps
14:05hanging close to the ceiling. The large conference table is made of dark walnut. The surface is shiny,
14:13reflecting the cold light. And the hands are stacked with pressure. Liam, the CEO of Neos, sits in the
14:21middle. Grey suit. Neatly combed hair. Confident, but slightly awkward face. In front of him is a
14:29three-page press release. The cover has the Enios logo embossed in silver. He adjusts his tie,
14:37takes a slow breath, then smiles. On the left, an assistant nods slightly. On the right, the legal
14:46representative is holding a media scorecard ready to be posted. Liam stands up. White light from above
14:54shines straight down, creating an isolating halo where he stands. Liam, voice clear, slow.
15:01Today, I am pleased to announce, Neos Corp has officially taken full ownership of the Eastern
15:09Region's content production chain. From production to editing to distribution, everything will be done
15:17internally. No dependency, no sharing. A few pens tap on the table. A media director nods slightly,
15:25smiling just enough to show agreement. The atmosphere in the room becomes tense. No one dares to breathe
15:33loudly. Liam glances out the window. The pioneer media building across the street is looming in the
15:40light mist. He smirks, almost whispering to himself. Liam, softly. Your turn is over, David.
15:48Data analysis room. WJ Tech. Same day evening. The room was absolutely quiet. Only the soft yellow
15:59light from the desk lamp created a small area of light in the darkness. The surrounding space was
16:05covered in a somber color of wood, metal, and tightly packed bookshelves. Maya was sitting in
16:12front of the computer. Her hair was tied up. Her eyes focused on the screen. She did not type quickly,
16:19but operated slowly, precisely, key by key. On the screen was an internal report with the title
16:28Ethics and Transparency Assessment, NEOS Corp D07. She reached out to take an encryption device from the
16:37drawer. Plugged it into the security port on the side of the computer. The light changed from yellow
16:43to green. The access confirmation window appeared. She paused for a few seconds. Her breathing was even
16:51and slow. She showed no emotion, but her eyes were clear and determined. She typed the last command.
16:59A soft, ping sounded. Maya, deep. Activate alert. Immediately, the encrypted file was sent.
17:08To James Harper, Senior Supervisor, WJ Tech Group at Ethics Foundation. The light from the screen
17:17reflected on Maya's face, highlighting her determined eyes. She tilted her head slightly, pressing the off
17:25button. The room fell silent again. NEOS shareholders' meeting room. The next morning. The next morning,
17:34the sky was covered with light grey clouds. The meeting room was the same. Luxurious, spacious,
17:42absolutely clean. But the atmosphere was different. The shareholders sat around the table, most of them
17:49wearing neutral coloured suits. No one spoke. Some held their phones. Some read emails. All were waiting.
17:59The door opened. An employee walked in. In his hand was a thick stack of documents, stamped with a red
18:06seal in the corner. He handed them to each shareholder. The paper was freshly printed, still warm.
18:13The ink was still fragrant. Each person turned to the first page. No one spoke. But the atmosphere
18:22began to change. Liam held his copy. His eyes began to scan each line. His forehead furrowed. The printed
18:31content was clear and distinct. WJ Tech Group. Manhattan Holdings in accordance with Article 12, Section B.
18:41Regulations for Controlling Ethical Funds. Officially withdraw all financial support for Branch DO7,
18:50NEOS Corp. All technical infrastructure associated with NEOS will be transferred to the acquiring unit,
18:58Pioneer Media. A few shareholders looked up at each other. No one said anything. One person gently placed the
19:07document on the table. His hand tapping unconsciously on the armrest of the chair. No one laughed. No one was
19:15surprised. Just a long silence. Liam was still reading. His eyes stopped at Pioneer Media. He sat motionless for a few seconds.
19:28Then, as if on cue, he opened his phone. Scrolling through the parent company's ownership profile,
19:36WJ Tech. His hands were shaking slightly. The first name that came up, WJ Tech.
19:43Manhattan Holdings. Major owner, William Johnson. Percentage of shares 87%.
19:50William's eyes widened. His lips parted slightly. His throat was dry.
19:58Liam, almost silently.
20:02Johnson? William? Johnson?
20:05His hand dropped. The phone fell to the table, hitting the document with a dry sound.
20:11A few eyes looked at him. But no one spoke. No one laughed. No one gasped. Everyone just stared at the
20:20empty space ahead. As if they had just witnessed a wall falling without a sound.
20:26WJ Tech layer. Weekend afternoon. The sky outside the glass windows is tinged with the pale yellow of
20:34sunset. The ground floor of the WJ Tech building is covered in warm tones. Walnut. Bright metal. Cool
20:43marble. Green plants are placed along the corridor. Light spills softly from the soft yellow wall lamps.
20:51David Tran walks in. Dark blue suit. Neat tie. His face is thinner than before. But his eyes are clearer.
21:01Calm and sincere. The receptionist bows. Leading him into the private elevator.
21:08High floor office. WJ Tech. 1745. The room is spacious. Surrounded by glass. Looking straight out
21:17at the whole of Manhattan. The afternoon light shines obliquely through the glass. Reflecting on the
21:23wooden floor and the wall of books. The air was still. Quiet. Almost sacred. William Johnson was
21:33standing by the window. White shirt. Over a simple navy suit. He was not wearing a tie. On the table
21:42behind him was a cup of tea steaming slightly. The door behind him opened. David entered. Stopped a few
21:50steps away. The two were silent for a few seconds. The air was no longer tense. But a very clear respect.
22:00David. Softly. I. Don't know where to begin. William turned. Eyes looking straight ahead. David.
22:11Hesitating. I still don't understand. Why you're doing all this for me. William did not answer
22:19immediately. He walked to the table. Picked up the cup of tea. And gently raised it to his lips.
22:26A small sip. Then set it down. William. Low. Slow.
22:31Thirteen years ago. There was an engineering student working the night shift.
22:36Who asked him for a license for post-production software. Because the trial version didn't have
22:42enough features. I sent him an official copy. No questions asked. No charge.
22:49Ethan frowned. His eyes went from surprise to emotion. David. Whispering. That person.
22:57Is it you? William nodded slightly. He opened a drawer. Took out an old CD in a white cover.
23:05The software name printed in the felt-tip pen. The cover had a faint italicized line.
23:13For someone who needs more than one try. He placed the CD on the table. And gently pushed it toward David.
23:21William. I have never forgotten a favor. And I don't want to repay it with words.
23:27David stood still. He looked at the CD for a long time. Then clenched his fists. Said nothing. But the look
23:37was enough to say thank you. Exterior. In front of WJ Tech headquarters. Tonight, David stepped out of the
23:45building. The sky had turned a deep orange. Pedestrians were bustling. Yellow taxis were whizzing by.
23:54He looked up at the sky. Then smiled. Slightly. But truly. A black SUV stopped at the curb.
24:01The back door opened. William sat inside. Nodding and greeting. David did not get in. He just nodded
24:10back. Like two old friends who understood each other. The car rolled slowly. Merging with the
24:17evening traffic. William turned his head to look out at the city. The place that had once pushed him to
24:23the bottom. Now the place where he quietly lifted others up. Final scene. White letters on black screen.
24:32A favor need not be repeated. But it must be repaid. William Johnson. Space. New York Street.
24:42After 8pm a gentle breeze. The street surface is still wet with rain. Sparkling with lights.
24:49The sky is covered with dark purple clouds. The street lights cast a soft yellow light on the paved
24:55sidewalk. Small drops of water from the eaves fall into the puddle on the corner of the street.
25:03People are still moving. But not in a hurry. William appears. William walks alone. He's wearing a dark
25:11grey wool coat. The collar turned up slightly in the wind. A worn canvas backpack is slung over one
25:18shoulder. In his hand is a paper cup of coffee. Black. Iced. No sugar. Like every day. His face is calm.
25:28Not cold. Not tired. Just calm. As if his mind has arranged everything. And now he is the only one left.
25:37His eyes do not look at the phone. Nor at the billboard. He just walked. His eyes looking far away.
25:45Where the street lights at the end of the street met the steam. Sounds around a car horn sounded in the
25:50distance. The saxophone from an old musician on the corner. The song round midnight playing quietly.
25:58The footsteps were slow and uneven. A couple walked in the opposite direction of William,
26:05laughing and whispering. A homeless man sat next to a cardboard box,
26:10burning a piece of paper to warm his hands. William passed them all. No one turned to look back.
26:18No one knew who he was. William stopped at the red light. The traffic light changed from green to red.
26:26He stopped at the white line, standing still. The wind blew against the hem of his shirt,
26:32making the edge of it flutter slightly. He took a sip of coffee. Hot, but pleasant. His eyes turned to
26:42the building opposite. A large billboard displayed the WJ Tech logo, quietly, glowing against the dark sky.
26:51He stared at it for a few seconds. Not proud. Not tormented. Just acknowledging that it had been there
27:00long enough. William, in a low, slow voice. You don't have to shout to see. You don't have to fight to be
27:08in front. Sometimes, just being in the right place is enough to change the game. The light turned green.
27:16William continued walking. His coffee was half full. The steam from the cup rose, mixing with the thin
27:24mist drifting on the sidewalk. He blended into the crowd among the shadows. A few cars passed by,
27:31casting red lights that flickered on the road. William gradually faded into the background,
27:37then disappeared into the city flow, as if it had never existed, but left a very clear feeling.
27:46Someone had just passed by and changed something.