Laila sincerely hoped that the superhero collaboration plan would be implemented. Marvel had thousands of superheroes under its belt—even the more obscure ones had their own fanbases. And audiences clearly loved this type of film. Just looking at Hollywood's box office over the past few years made that point obvious: the biggest money-makers all featured superheroes in some form.
Take The Avengers aside for a moment. Superman, Spider-Man, Iron Man, Thor, Captain America—which one didn't rake in massive profits? Some were Marvel, others were DC, but that didn't matter. Audiences weren't loyal to a specific company; they loved the idea of superheroes.
That meant every Marvel superhero was essentially a mega-IP. No matter which one was adapted, as long as the script, actors, and director held up, there was little concern about box office performance.
Almost immediately, the superhero collaboration plan began attracting numerous partners. Several superhero films were quickly greenlit. In the next few years, at least ten different heroes were scheduled to hit the big screen.
Most of these were second-tier heroes. Laila's company reserved the first-tier ones for internal development—it wasn't realistic to just hand out those profits. For co-productions, the costs were much higher, and profit-sharing often felt steep for mid-to-small companies.
By contrast, second-tier heroes were perfect for joint ventures. With Iron Man as a precedent—once a B-list hero turned box office titan—partner companies weren't worried about the lack of A-tier name recognition. Sure, second-tier heroes didn't have the same built-in fanbase, but their potential was far more worth tapping into. More importantly, the profit split was much more favorable.
Even third-tier and bottom-tier—heck, even "eighteenth-tier"—superheroes attracted interest from smaller studios. Sure, they didn't have the money for huge productions, but that didn't mean they couldn't make films. Low-budget films had their own style. As long as the first movie turned a profit, a sequel could be made with higher production values.
Same reason as everyone else choosing second-tier: they were cheaper.
If an A-tier hero costs $100 million to produce, a B-tier might cost $50 million, a C-tier $10 million, and an "eighteenth-tier" hero? Maybe only hundreds of thousands. For small studios, that was far more attractive.
A high-grossing film could bring more than just profits. It raised the value of everyone involved. Actors gained prestige and better roles. Production companies attracted more talent. And directors? They'd shoot to the top of Hollywood's hot list.
Of course, this was true for most "regular" successful films—but for Laila's projects, it was on another level entirely. Her crews were filled with top-tier talent. Even minor team members had name recognition in Hollywood. And as for Laila herself? She was already one of the most elite directors in the industry.
Still, no one ever complained about having too little influence. For a film studio to develop healthily, it had to have flagship projects.
Many media outlets followed up on The Avengers, surpassing $2.5 billion in global box office with relentless coverage. The Entertainer's Daily, under the Moran Media Group, even published the film's total box office from the previous day every single day—right on the front page—along with a countdown of how much more was needed to surpass Avatar.
At first, other media mocked them for sucking up to their boss. But as the box office kept rising, they suddenly found themselves gaining tons of new readers—people who were buying the paper just to follow that number.
That, naturally, made rival newspapers go green with envy. Who would've thought that just printing a number could steal away so many premium subscribers? Had they known it was this easy to make money, they would've jumped on the bandwagon, too.
But with the passing days, the growth rate of the box office was starting to slow—albeit subtly.
Industry analysts crunched the numbers. At the current rate of decline, the box office would likely top out at around $2.8 billion.
In other words, Laila would unfortunately fall just short of breaking Avatar's record.
This prediction made many media outlets… quite happy.
Because, let's be honest—compared to her breaking the record, her failing to do so made for far juicier headlines. It would stir more debate, more articles, more reader engagement. More people would rush to see the movie—just to see if she'd make it.
If she succeeded, she'd become the highest-grossing director in history. Her once "arrogant" claims would be rebranded as prophecies. And everyone who mocked her would become the butt of the joke.
When she had boldly declared her ambition to take the #1 spot, nearly every outlet outside of Moran Media had mocked her—mercilessly. From her script, her production schedule, the genre, the cast… every angle that could be mocked was mocked.
If she really did succeed, not only would she break the record, she'd be slapping every media outlet and journalist right across the face.
So, when it came down to who should end up embarrassed—Laila or the press—most media were hoping it wouldn't be themselves.
And Laila's fans?
They were beaming with pride.
Some had followed her since her horror film days. Others had been drawn in by her genre-hopping masterpieces. But the one thing they all agreed on was this: every one of her movies was worth watching. Even those who weren't fans of a particular genre found themselves compelled to check it out.
No one doubted her filmmaking ability. Her fans had tasted so many cinematic "meals" crafted by her own hands—how could they not support her in reaching the top?
Even when most of the world believed her claim to take the all-time box office crown was arrogant and unrealistic, her fans stood firm behind her.
And the truth proved them right—Laila did create a film powerful enough to challenge the crown.
So when the media began predicting that the film would stop at $2.8 billion, it was the fans who pushed back first.
Just two hundred million short?
Was the world really saying that Laila's fanbase couldn't pull that off?
What an insult!
Outrage surged across the internet. People started rallying online: if you had time—go! If you had money—spend it! Go for second, third, fourth viewings! Show the world how the youth's champion, Laila, would surpass the old legends!