June 29
While Billy trained and acted, he also carved out what little free time he had left on The Matrix to draw, always trying to hit the mark when it came to organizing the hours he could dedicate to his sketches. Meanwhile, Raimon was grinding his way through Asia, doing everything he could to make money for Billy. Time, though unfair and often unforgiving, always seemed to work in their favor—it just kept generating more and more profit.
–In the next five days, we'll find out if your projections were right. Honestly, I've been following this for a while, and I never thought it was a lie. The puts are already in the green—maybe not by much, but they're winning, – said Gwen, Julian Robertson's right hand. She was cold, ruthless, and always pushed Raimon to his limits. Not conventionally beautiful, but powerful—there was something about her that made it feel like she was always leading the way.
–According to my models, the drop will hit a day earlier. The charts are crystal clear, and it's been heading this way for some time now… Besides, in the next few months we're certainly going to see a real collapse, – said Raimon. What he saw wasn't just an economic crisis, but a media crisis triggering mass panic. People were pulling their money from the banks, and those waiting for positive news were only met with gloom. Everything started to run on a schedule of collapse.
–It doesn't matter. Our shorts will be cleared in five days too, and I hope you're aware of the risks, – said Gwen. She knew they had already made a 40% gain during the June crash, and though the market had rebounded nearly 35%, that rebound was shaky. It wasn't a loss, but still a concern. The rise was fueled by uncertainty and erratic behavior on the charts. But Billy knew that the second crash would be sharp—almost 60%—and would take down the rest of the positions.
–Want to bet? When Thailand falls, operations for Indonesia and Malaysia will be on the table, – Raimon said with a wry smile, munching on carrot sticks. He was on a strict diet, preparing for Star Wars: Attack of the Clones. It was his one shot, and one of the conditions was to weigh less than 160 pounds, not the 200 he was currently carrying. He had six months to drop 40 pounds with hard training and willpower. The temptation for sweets always crept into his mind. First, he gave up gummies, then candy, but pizza, he just couldn't quit. What other way was there?
–I don't gamble—and you already are. We've got the funds ready, and so are you, – Gwen replied.
–Nothing to worry about, – Billy said calmly.
Raimon did everything he could to keep the cravings at bay. It felt like an addiction. So he buried himself in studying stocks, reading charts, and diving into finance books—anything to learn how to make more money for both himself and Billy.
He took a deep breath, alone, as time seemed to freeze. He liked pineapple with salad or tartar sauce. He drank lots of water so nothing would feel too heavy or overwhelming. It was difficult for everyone.
***
–Begin.–
He launched a kick that was blocked, followed by a straight punch. Then another hard hit. He dodged, landed some quick strikes—they were all blocked. Everything moved at a medium pace, but what mattered was the technique.
Billy was deep into a karate combat drill while choreographing a workout routine that would soon become well-known for how he executed it. It was hard to say if he'd still be doing it two months from now, but for now, this was what he had to endure—a grueling workout.
–Put strength in your arms, but don't drop your guard, – said the karate instructor, a renowned Japanese trainer famous for his wins in international combat. Billy had paid him $100,000 for a month of training, including hotel and travel expenses. Every day, they did six hours of training. It was a hefty payment—even Hirokazu Kanazawa admitted it was a lot. He wasn't used to private training but accepted because of the money, the convenience, and the open slot in his calendar. The next competition was in November, and the harsh Australian climate offered the perfect setting to train.
–Power. That's solid strength, – Hirokazu said.
–Thank you for the guidance, Sensei, – Billy replied, drenched in sweat. He had spent the past six months training in karate, boxing, and jiu-jitsu—full days, every week. But with Hirokazu, it was different from the typical fitness routines he had back in L.A. with personal trainers.
He started acquiring some successful independent films while also negotiating his role in another sci-fi movie, The Matrix. He took ownership of the project, investing directly. If New Line couldn't find an actor for Neo, he'd step in and take the role himself.
–I've got a gift for you, – Hiroki said. He reached into his bag and pulled out a yellow belt. The first belt is white, for beginners. Next is yellow, followed by orange, green, blue, brown, and black.
–Wow, this is level two, – Billy said, surprised.
–Second level, – Hiroki confirmed, watching Billy accept the belt with astonishment. Hiroki was a fourth-dan karate master—a teacher of teachers. With someone like him, the risks were low, but Billy's determination made the difference.
–Thank you, Sensei, – Billy said, taking a deep breath.
–See you tomorrow at 6 a.m., – the master said as he left. Tomorrow, Billy would run along the beach and practice surfing as much as he could.
Trying to catch his breath, he fought to steady his breathing. The workout had been brutal, but the specialized guidance made it worth it.
A moment passed as he straightened his clothes. Then he headed for the pool—a long swim session, thirty minutes to let the water calm his mind. He felt the contrast, the mental clarity.
As he floated on his back, he suddenly saw the directors standing by, observing him calmly. Total coincidence.
–Directors... – he said.
–Billy, you're doing great. All that training—it's impressive. We've got delays with some of the actors, so we'd like to move a few scenes up. Now that you're available, could we shoot some of them early? – Andy asked. He handled everything related to production and organization. Sometimes he directed, other times he just watched while Larry focused on the lens—he was more precise with sequencing and camera work.
–Of course, just give me a moment to change, – Billy said, taking another deep breath.
–Then let's get to it, – Andy replied.
...