After regaining her composure, Amanda leaned back in her chair and said firmly, "Even so, your projections aren't absolute."
"We can't just take your word at face value. If, by the end of the year, your numbers don't add up, then all the risk falls on us."
Jihoon remained silent for a moment, studying her.
She wasn't wrong. If by Q4 the figures failed to match his projections, the lofty valuation would collapse, and Amanda's investment would evaporate.
But that was a big 'if'.
One Jihoon simply didn't believe would happen.
And it wasn't just his conviction.
The entire industry seemed to agree.
If not, why else had dozens of investment proposals poured into JH after the success of the HCU?
People in this business weren't fools; they all knew how to run the numbers.
Still, Amanda was playing the right card.
Comparing valuation against risk was a perfectly reasonable tactic.
Jihoon understood the game, and after a pause, he finally countered.
"Amanda, let's be honest. You're not the only one who's come to JH asking to invest."
"But you are the only one with family ties to this company."
"If you want, we can proceed with this deal. If not, the terms stay as they are. We're not changing the proposal."
Amanda shook her head, her tone sharpening. "It's not that simple."
"From our perspective, the risk factor at that valuation is very high, and there's no guarantee to protect against it."
Jihoon narrowed his eyes. He could sense the undertone in her voice.
It wasn't disbelief—she already knew his valuation was solid.
What he heard instead was greed.
She wanted more than what was on the table.
Jihoon decided to play along and see where she was heading.
"Hm… so this is still negotiation, isn't it?" he said with a faint smile.
"Go ahead, tell me what you want from this deal, and we'll evaluate it accordingly."
Amanda tapped her finger lightly on the table, the rhythm echoing in the quiet meeting room. She let the silence stretch before finally speaking. "How about this."
"To balance the risk, we want the Horror Cinematic Universe intellectual property as collateral."
"To be fair, the collateral would only be held for one year. After that, it reverts back to you. What do you say?"
Jihoon stared at her, momentarily speechless.
His eyes widened—not out of fear, but in disbelief at the sheer audacity of her appetite.
It was almost laughable.
Asking for the HCU IP as collateral wasn't just bold; it was outrageous.
The value she was demanding far exceeded the 8% of company shares currently on the table.
Yes, on paper the HCU had only two films released.
But those films already carried massive cultural weight.
Add in the SCP tie-ins, and the brand's value rivaled the likes of early DC and Marvel—complete with a dedicated fanbase drawn to its dark themes.
If Jihoon were to auction the HCU by itself—separate from JH Pictures—it could easily fetch half a billion dollars or more.
Because the true asset wasn't just the films already released, it was Jihoon himself.
His creativity had yet to fail anyone, and every project under his watch had turned into profit since day one.
And that wasn't even considering the theme park potential.
If Jihoon ever decided to sell the HCU outright, Disney or Universal would be lining up with blank checks.
All they'd need to do was build a haunted house attraction around the established horror icons from the franchise, and the profits would flow without effort.
Amanda's request wasn't simply ambitious.
It was overreaching, like she was asking for something worth far more than the offer she had placed on the table.
And Jihoon could already picture how it would play out if he were reckless enough to agree.
If he signed a contract that used the HCU IP as collateral, Amanda could easily manipulate the terms to her advantage.
The agreement would no doubt specify that JH Pictures had to hold its $5 billion valuation by Q4.
If not, the collateral would be forfeited and the HCU would fall into Amanda's hands.
And knowing who she is now, making that scenario a reality wouldn't be hard for her.
With the Murdoch family's media empire at her disposal, all she'd need to do was orchestrate a smear campaign during JH's film releases.
A few damaging headlines, a wave of negative press, and public sentiment could sink a film's box office overnight.
If the films underperformed, the numbers wouldn't add up, and by Q4 Amanda would have a legal claim to seize JH's most valuable asset.
At that point, Jihoon wouldn't just lose the HCU, by than he'd be buried under debt, forced to sell off his company and ownership stake, reduced to nothing more than a hired director working for others.
Jihoon had seen this exact kind of hostile maneuver in his previous life.
It always wore the mask of a 'friendly merger,' but beneath it was a cutthroat takeover.
Disney's acquisition of Pixar was the prime example.
On paper, it looked like a perfect partnership.
Pixar gained stability.
Disney gained content.
But anyone who paid attention could see the sharp edges.
Pixar had been the production powerhouse, taking the larger share of profits, owning the film IPs, and controlling sequel rights.
Disney, meanwhile, had the distribution muscle but lacked the same creative spark.
Eventually, Disney used its financial firepower to force Pixar into a corner.
And what the public saw was just a polished merger, but to industry insiders saw Disney wresting control of an independent cash cow.
Looking at JH Pictures now, Jihoon saw the same dangerous parallels.
Both Pixar and JH had become cash cows in the industry, their value rooted not only in profits but in creativity and IP control.
And just as Disney couldn't stand being on the weaker end of the Pixar deal, Amanda—backed by the Murdoch family and Fox boardroom allies—was angling to keep JH firmly under their influence.
Deep down, Jihoon understood exactly what she was trying to do.
That was why he wasn't about to entertain such a ridiculous proposal.
He leaned forward slightly, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.
"Amanda, let's keep our feet on the ground."
"You know that's not going to happen."
"From a pure valuation standpoint, your counter doesn't make any sense. The HCU is worth far more than an 8% purchase of shares. Let's not pretend otherwise."
Amanda didn't flare up at the rejection.
Instead, she gave a faint smile, as if testing the waters had been her intention all along. "Since you feel the numbers don't balance," she said smoothly, "then why not sell me more of your shares to even things out?"
Now Jihoon understood what she truly wanted.
She wasn't after collateral—she wanted a bigger stake. He gave a short, derisive snort.
"And why should I?" he replied coldly. "If I sell you 8%, that leaves me with 52%. Fox still holds 35%, and Peli has 5%."
"That balance still leaves me in control, exactly where I want to be. I won't sell any more shares. If you want more, check with Fox or Peli—see if they're interested in selling."
"But from me, you won't get a single percent more."
Amanda studied him, her smile thinning. She knew breaking through his defenses wouldn't be easy, not with someone like Jihoon who had already seen through her play.
Still, she wasn't the type to retreat outright. She shifted her strategy, softening her tone.
"Alright," she said, almost lightly, though the pressure in her voice betrayed her. "Let's meet halfway then. Tell me—how would you want it to be?"
Her hand absently rubbed at the vein on her wrist, a subtle tell of tension. Negotiations had tightened the air, and even she could feel the weight of it pressing down.
Jihoon remained silent for a while. He didn't answer immediately, instead leaning back in his chair, eyes distant. He was thinking, weighing the angles.
The pros, the cons, the risks of giving her even the smallest concession. The room stayed quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioning, and Amanda waited—patient but restless—as the seconds stretched.
Finally, Jihoon spoke. His voice was calm, deliberate.
"How about this," he began. "The offer stays the same: 8% of JH for 5% of Netflix. As for the cash difference you'd need to make up, we'll treat it as a loan. But not for JH."
Amanda's brow furrowed slightly, unsure where he was leading.
Jihoon continued, his gaze locking on hers.
"The loan will be under my name, not the company's. Because the shares I'm selling are under my name. And a loan isn't for free—it comes with terms. One year. Ten percent interest." He paused, letting the words hang in the air.
"So tell me, Amanda… what do you think of that?"
Amanda's expression stiffened as she calculated the proposal. Her brows drew together, faint lines creasing her forehead.
Why this way?
Why turn the upfront cash into a loan?
She couldn't quite piece it together. He was protecting the company, shielding it in some way she hadn't accounted for.
For the first time in the conversation, she found herself unable to fully read him—and that unsettled her.