Frans Finch's position at the Electromagnetic Center is a key technical role in the New Directions for Power Applications departnt, and his own research focuses on film technology.
So when he ntioned wanting to show Ethan sothing, it refers to his own product.
Under his guidance, the group walked into the building resembling a sphere of lightning.
It was evident that the atmosphere of research and innovation was strong here. No one paid much attention to Ethan's group as they entered, as everyone was engrossed in their own discussions or rushing around, clearly busy with their tasks.
Finch's office was deep inside on the second floor, almost at the far end.
Although described as an office, it was more accurately a laboratory, filled with all sorts of parts and unfinished products, resembling more of a small factory.
It was extrely cluttered.
As Finch walked in, he seed a bit embarrassed and said, "Didn't have ti to tidy up, my apologies, everyone…"
"It's alright, seeing the product is what's important." Ethan actually felt that this disarray further proved Finch was purely a technical talent.
"Alright, Mr. Ethan, please co this way."
Soon, the group arrived at a relatively cleaner area in the room where a large object was completely covered by a white cloth.
At first glance, it seed like so sort of artwork.
Ethan saw the installation and smiled knowingly; it seed Finch was a true fan, possibly paying homage to his iconic toilet design?
"Mr. Ethan, please forgive my impudence; I truly admire your work and philosophy, so I tried to emulate it a bit."
Finch seed delighted that Ethan noticed this detail, expressing a sense of being acknowledged.
He quickly stepped to the side of the white cloth, took a deep breath, and said, "Everyone, next, I want to introduce my latest product – the multifunctional video and sound recording integrated machine!"
As he spoke, he pulled down the cloth, revealing a large and sowhat cumberso but exquisitely crafted machine.
Ethan looked at it and noticed it vaguely resembled the caras from his world.
"You said this thing can record sound, you can make sound films?"
Initially here to invest in silent films, Ethan was pleasantly surprised; if sound films were feasible, his scripts wouldn't go to waste.
"Mr. Ethan is also familiar with sound films?" Finch was visibly more thrilled, surprised that his idol seed to know even more.
"I've always had an interest in film." Ethan nodded, "Just call Ethan."
"Yes, Ethan… Currently in the market, what has appeared is still silent films. In people's perceptions, silent films are seen as the future, but I always felt that films without sound are actually crippled in so way, so I've been exploring the possibilities of sound films. This is my latest achievent, capable of successfully capturing sound with video."
Saying that, Finch moved to another side and lifted another machine.
"This is also my product, a sound projector. It's not fully mature yet, but it's operational. Now let show everyone my filming results."
Finch was exceptionally enthusiastic, possibly due to feeling validated by his idol, and hurriedly called Kevin to help draw the curtains, then turned on the projector and began screening.
Admittedly, in this budding world of cinema, Finch's footage wasn't of any scripted narrative, but rather a slice of real life.
Yet the filming angles were well-chosen, sohow giving it an inexplicable sense of storytelling.
The footage captured the lives of the lower-class citizens in the Southern Royal Capital District, featuring people working hard, children gazing longing at food, and various casual conversations and chats.
One could say it's dull.
But also say it has potential.
As Ethan was watching intently.
The office door suddenly swung open.
A rough voice rang out: "What are you doing, what are you all doing? Finch, what are you doing in broad daylight?"
Forced to stop, Finch had to conclude the screening and open the curtains.
Simultaneously, Ethan saw the unwelco guest, a middle-aged fat man with a petty face who glared at everyone fiercely.
"Who are these people, Finch? How could you bring outsiders to the company and show them products? This is a breach of confidentiality!"
"It's not that serious, Haven, besides, this is my investor, Mr. Ethan." Finch had had enough and loudly refuted.
"An investor? For what? Everything you have is company property, what right do you have to seek investors?"
"Sir, I've reviewed the contract. Finch's contract is for independent research. Your company has first investnt rights, but if you decline, he can find other investors."
Ethan had already understood Finch's situation.
Why was Finch employed at Azertu Company yet required Kevin's help to find investors?
It was actually a very cliched story: a genius surrounded by extrely jealous diocre people.
"I don't understand what you're saying; now you have two minutes to leave, or don't bla if I'm rude."
The fat man, Haven, looked arrogant.
Finch was so angry his face turned red: "This is Mr. Ethan, Ethan Polleta!"
"Ethan Polleta? Never heard of him, you think he's so big shot? This is the Electromagnetic Center!"
The fat man turned to shout, but instantly froze seeing a tall, skinny man walking toward him.
This tall, skinny man was indeed a commanding presence within the company.
"Mr. Ethan is indeed the real big shot."
The man said to the fat man, Haven, scaring him into bowing his head repeatedly in acknowledgnt.
The tall, skinny man approached Ethan. Around forty, presentable yet overly slender, wearing a fitting work attire, appearing like a senior manager.
"Hello, Mr. Ethan, I'm McGowan, the manager at the Electromagnetic Center. I apologize for the fright you've experienced. I offer my sincerest apologies and, Azertu would like to et with you upstairs, would you honor us with your presence?"
"Of course, no problem." Before entering, Ethan regretted it seed impossible to et Azertu, yet unexpectedly, they were about to et.
"Also, Finch, please co along; the gentleman would like to see you too."
This sentence pleasantly surprised Finch, who quickly followed.
And even more thrilling was McGowan's next sentence.
"By the way, Haven, you're fired. Head to the finance office for your settlent; you don't need to return to the company tomorrow."
"But…"
Fat Haven opened his mouth wide, speechless.
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