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Cassius leaned back in the seat, finally letting his shoulders drop. He fired off a quick text to Rob: "How's Warner reacting?"
Rob's reply came in seconds: "Silverman's practically floating down the halls! The internal meeting did a full 180—now everyone's talking about riding the wave and doubling down. The same suits who were screaming about cutting promo budgets and throwing us under the bus? They all suddenly called in sick today. Convenient."
He followed it with a string of grinning emojis.
Cassius couldn't help laughing. Hollywood had just given him another masterclass in how fast the wind changed when the money started flowing the right way.
Rob texted again: "The Tonight Show producer just hit me up—they want you on tomorrow's taping for the night-after-next episode. They're framing it as 'how a movie can bridge cultural divides.' Total hot-topic grab. You in?"
The Tonight Show—one of the biggest late-night slots in America. Massive exposure. Also a minefield.
The host's questions were guaranteed to be sharp.
---
NBC Studios, The Tonight Show taping.
The audience was packed. The band tuned their instruments in scattered notes. Backstage, Cassius sat in the makeup chair while the artist gave his hair and face one last touch-up.
The mirror showed a guy in a tailored navy suit, white shirt open at the collar, no tie—exactly the relaxed-but-sharp look Rob and the stylist had locked in.
"Relax, Mr. Cassius," the older Black makeup artist said, gentle hands working. "You look killer—like you just stepped off a GQ cover."
"Thanks." Cassius smiled, but his real focus was inward, on the panel only he could see.
The last few days had been all ticket sales and crisis management—no sets, no parties, no attribute orbs. He'd been coasting on the system's upgrades, but that wasn't sustainable. Even if Green Lantern tanked domestically, he could still book other projects. No reason to tie himself to these studio suits.
That thought crystallized something in his head: Be a parasite on capitalism. Eat where the food is good. When the plate's empty, move on. Use their money like it's free leverage—win big on the upside, let them eat the downside.
The realization hit like a quiet lightning bolt.
A golden attribute orb dropped from his own body:
Presence & Life Philosophy +10
He absorbed it instantly.
The panel flashed:
Aura Leveled Up! Current Level: Lv4 (8/800)
A strange clarity washed through every limb. Suddenly the whole game felt transparent—the power plays, the shifting alliances, the way money rewrote every rule. The thin fog that had always hung between him and the industry simply dissolved.
Almost the second the upgrade locked in, a quiet, unshakable steadiness radiated out from him like a natural field.
A young PA walking past in the hallway glanced up, paused, then unconsciously stepped aside to give him more room.
---
Onstage, Jay Leno's voice carried through the walls, that signature wry tone already rolling: "He's the star of a movie that's sparking global conversation—and yeah, a little controversy here at home too. Please welcome the Green Lantern himself, Cassius!"
Applause and cheers erupted.
The stage manager gave the cue.
Cassius walked out under the bright lights, smiling, waving at every section of the crowd, stride easy and unhurried.
He reached the red couch and dropped into it with relaxed confidence.
"Welcome, Cass! Great to have you on The Tonight Show!"
Jay grinned wide, gesturing for him to settle in. "Thanks, Jay. Happy to be here."
Cassius leaned back naturally, spine straight, eyes calm on his host—ready for whatever came next.
Jay had planned to open with a light jab at the "yellow kid" playing a classic American hero, flex a little white-host energy. But the second their eyes met, Jay faltered. The joke died in his throat.
This guy didn't look like any Asian actor he'd had on before. He carried real presence—no nerves, no deference. The stage suddenly felt like his turf.
A tiny beat of dead air hit the room.
The band leader shot Jay a confused glance.
Veteran that he was, Jay recovered on muscle memory. "Looks like our Green Lantern brought the willpower with him tonight," he joked, covering the stumble.
But the rhythm was already off. His planned opening barrage of zingers got stuck in his mouth. He had to pivot to safer ground—set stories, funny anecdotes.
Cassius rolled with it, laughing about the awkwardness of imagining a giant Azure Dragon on green screen and the number of times Gina had knocked him on his ass during training (and how much makeup it took to hide the bruises).
The audience ate it up, laughing loud.
A couple of green orbs drifted from the crowd:
Improvised Comeback +2
Warm-Up Ease +2
He absorbed them on the spot. Small, but after days of zero farming, every point counted.
Once the easy laughs were done, Jay took a sip of water and leaned forward, smile still in place but eyes sharper. "Cass, we all know the movie faced some rough pushback right out of the gate. Some voices say if the lead had been cast more 'traditionally,' none of this noise would've happened."
He let the implication hang. "Did you ever have even one second where you thought, 'Man, if my skin were a different color, would this road have been a lot smoother?'"
The studio went dead quiet. Every camera, every pair of eyes locked on Cassius.
He didn't rush the answer. He lowered his gaze for a thoughtful half-second—long enough to show the question mattered, short enough to never look rattled.
A purple orb dropped from Jay:
Sharp-Topic Pressure Rhythm +6
Cassius absorbed it. Suddenly Jay's loaded question felt… ordinary.
He met Jay's eyes, voice steady. "If I ever let skin color decide my worth—or a hero's worth—then I'd be agreeing that a person's value or a hero's right to exist is decided by skin color."
He shook his head slightly, gaze sweeping the audience. "The ring chose my character because of what's inside him. Not his passport. Not his face."
"I'm standing here because we believe this story deserves to be told—and that heroism can wear more than one face."
The applause that followed was louder and warmer than anything earlier.
Jay wasn't done, though. He leaned in again. "About that very cool Azure Dragon in the movie—some say it enriches the film, others say it dilutes the classic American superhero flavor. What's your take?"
Another trap. Answer wrong and he'd get painted as disrespectful to the source material.
A second purple orb dropped from Jay:
Trap-Question Rhythm +7
Rhythm: Lv3 (593/600)
Seven points from Level 4.
Cassius suddenly looked at the veteran host like he was a walking treasure chest.
He answered smoothly: "I think Green Lantern has always been about willpower beating fear and responsibility outweighing everything else. The Azure Dragon isn't dilution—it's expansion."
"Think about it—the Corps has 7,200 members from every corner of the universe. Earth is just one sector, and even that sector has countless cultures. The Dragon is how this Lantern's willpower expresses itself. It makes his story more authentic and the whole universe feel alive."
The crowd erupted again, louder than before.
The rest of the interview flowed the same way. Every sharp question met the same calm, confident rhythm. The newly upgraded Aura gave him the presence of a lighthouse in a storm—no matter how hard Jay tried to create fireworks, Cassius stayed steady, making the host look like he was the one swinging too hard.
The audience leaned harder and harder toward Cassius. Laughs and applause kept hitting after every clean deflection.
---
Less than two hours after taping wrapped, #CassiusOwnsTonightShow was trending number one on Twitter.
Clips and soundbites went viral—every sharp question, every perfect comeback.
Warner's PR machine went into overdrive, treating the appearance like free premium marketing.
Rob's phone hadn't stopped ringing since the second they left the stage. Media requests, brand deals, even two other late-night shows offering guest-host spots.
Between calls he kept glancing at his tablet, grin never fading. "Bro, you know what your per-minute interview rate is right now? This number." He flashed an exaggerated hand sign. "And it's basically priceless. Brands that were sitting on the fence yesterday? They're all regretting it hard."
Cassius rode in the back of the SUV heading home to Beverly Hills, mind already back on the panel.
He still had two attributes sitting right on the edge. Needed to find a way to push them over soon.
His phone buzzed again. Not Rob this time—an unknown number.
He frowned. Private line, this late? Only a handful of people had it.
He answered. "Hello?"
A low, instantly recognizable voice came through the line, thick accent but crystal clear:
"Cassius? This is Jackie Chan."