Facing Jay-Z's "advice," which was laced with veiled threats, Leon remained silent throughout.
Those Black rappers might buy into this, but Leon was completely immune.
This only strengthened his resolve to leave this company!
"Maybe Apocalypse Music can merge with Roc Nation. This would be beneficial for everyone," Yormark, who had been silent all along, finally spoke up. His opening words were extremely lethal.
This guy, who was always taciturn and acted completely unlike a typical Black person, was the most shrewd one here.
His appetite was as big as Leonard's: he wanted to acquire the Apocalypse label and completely devour Leon's career.
Leon suppressed the urge to curse, squinting at Yormark. "We are just a small company, barely making any money."
"It's just not making money in your hands because you don't have the ability to run a record company," Yormark spread his hands. "Look at those talented girls; I can totally see the shadows of future divas in them."
"Go fxxk yourself!" Leon pointed at Yormark's nose and cursed directly, shocking everyone.
Yormark was not only the president of this company but also a genuine, ruthless gangster.
Jay-Z entrusted many of his shady dealings to this guy.
"Are you talking to me?" Yormark stood up, staring dead at Leon. "You don't understand what you are saying..."
The atmosphere instantly became tense, swords drawn.
Jay-Z wasn't anxious at all, rocking his swivel chair as if he couldn't wait to see Yormark teach the other party a lesson.
Just when the scene started to get a bit out of control, Leon's attitude suddenly took a 180-degree turn.
His expression switched from anger to a smile. "Maybe you are right, Mr. Yormark. Money is the most important thing for me in this circle."
"Most of the time, the success or failure of things depends on the amount of chips."
Receiving a satisfactory answer, the tense atmosphere eased.
"You will get a satisfactory number... a number that will completely change your class and your life."
Any problem that could be solved with money wasn't a problem. The wealthiest ngga on the East Coast definitely didn't lack dollars.
Talking about selling the label was just a delaying tactic by Leon. Of course, he wouldn't sell his money-printing machine.
Selling a fishing net for a basket of fish is something only a fool would do.
With Apocalypse Music's current momentum, unless the other party offered an astronomically exaggerated figure, it wouldn't be a cost-effective deal no matter what.
The meeting entered "garbage time." Lenny announced the upcoming album promotion focus to Leon as if ignoring what just happened.
Jay-Z ordered his assistant to light a cigar for Leon, and both sides were as harmonious as a family.
Leaving Roc Nation headquarters, as soon as he got in the car, Leon could no longer suppress the anger in his heart.
"Fxxk! Fxxk! A bunch of greedy bastards!"
Since his debut, this wasn't the first time he faced threats.
But it was the first time he was pinned down and unable to fight back.
Jorge handed his boss a cigarette. "Looks like the negotiation didn't go well..."
"You can't get anything done with nggas, that's why Mexican gangs never cooperate with those Black people."
"Maybe you can pay me a sum of money, and I can solve the trouble for you."
Leon lit the cigarette and rolled his eyes. "I think you haven't woken up yet."
The security at the entire Roc Nation headquarters was extremely strict, with armed guards on every floor.
Having experienced the gang wars of the 90s, Jay-Z paid more attention to his safety than anyone else.
Wherever he went, he had at least four armed bodyguards protecting him closely.
Among these people were retired Navy SEALs, famous retired boxers, and thugs notorious in the gang world.
The possibility of quietly taking out Jay-Z without causing a sensation was almost zero.
Jorge tilted his head and laughed. "Haha~ As long as the price is right, many things are actually not that difficult to do."
"In Mexico, if you give a manual laborer 100,000 pesos, he can do anything for you."
Leon waved his hand, signaling the other party not to continue.
Violence could solve most problems, but it didn't apply to Jay-Z, who possessed huge wealth and a complex network of relationships.
Leaving aside the possibility of bloody retaliation, it was very likely he would be sent to prison by the opponent's government connections.
---
Back in LA
The next day, Leon boarded a flight to Los Angeles again.
Quincy Jones would arrive at the Straight Outta Compton filming location at 2 PM to provide relevant artistic guidance for the movie shoot.
"How is the filming progress?" As soon as he arrived on set, Leon asked James Wan straight to the point.
"The first roll of film has been shot. Our progress is simply godspeed!" James Wan excitedly pointed to the extras—local nggas on both sides of the set. "Thanks to their help, Compton is truly an enthusiastic city."
The length of a roll of film is usually 2,000 feet, containing about 15 minutes of content.
The first roll covered the first fifteen minutes of the movie, which is crucial for a film.
For some picky audiences, if the first fifteen minutes didn't give them any anticipation, even if the subsequent plot had enough twists, it would be hard for them to give the movie a high score.
"Not fast enough. James, we need to speed up and strive to wrap up before April."
"What? You want to finish shooting a movie in three months? Do you know what you're saying, man?"
Leon patted James Wan's shoulder. "Three months is enough for you. You only used 18 days to shoot Saw. We all know you are a genius!"
Facing this PUA (manipulation), James Wan had a bitter smile on his face. "You have to know Saw was just a low-budget horror movie..."
No matter how James Wan complained, Leon insisted that filming must wrap up in April, and all editing must be completed and premiered in May.
Facing Jay-Z's increasing pressure, he had to accumulate chips before the contract expired in August.
"Our budget is tight; we must pay attention to film waste..." Leon reminded in a low voice.
Film stock is the cost most likely to cause budget overruns in a movie.
This thing looks inconspicuous but burns money considerably.
Taking Kodak film as an example, the cost is about 50 cents per frame, and 24 frames make up one second of movie footage, which is $12.
So just one minute of footage consumes more than $700.
With more NGs (No Good takes), the amount of wasted film goes up.
Not to mention the cost of developing the film, which is even more expensive than the film itself.
"Don't worry, with this group of genius actors, it's hard to waste film." James Wan pointed to Kendrick and other lead actors gathering to smoke weed by the nanny van. "Especially Boseman, this guy is an excellent actor."
"Oh?"
Leon looked in the direction James Wan pointed. The Black actor he hired for a high price of $1 million was sitting next to Kendrick.
He was listening seriously to the other party telling various street bragging stories, nodding repeatedly like an elementary school student.
"Looks like indeed a rare honest ngga..." Leon sighed.
After chatting for nearly an hour, a business van belonging to Lionsgate stopped near the set.
Quincy Jones, accompanied by his daughter Kidada Jones, slowly arrived on set in a wheelchair.
"Mr. Jones, welcome to Compton!" Leon grabbed the other party's dried-corpse-like hand and shook it up and down.
"This is..." James Wan stared at the aged ngga in front of him, scratching his head in confusion.
"Old Mr. Quincy Jones, the legendary producer with 28 Grammy trophies."
"By the way, he was Michael Jackson's producer. You must be familiar with that immortal album Bad!"
Under Leon's grand introduction, the actors on set exclaimed collectively.
Those passerby extras from Compton danced excitedly like they were seeing a monster, taking out their phones to take pictures.
Although they didn't know the old guy in front of them, the identity of MJ's producer was simply too heavy.
Jones seemed to enjoy the feeling of being surrounded by stars and toured a large circle around the set.
He said with eyes full of melancholy, "Returning to Compton always reminds me of the old days."
As soon as the words fell, everyone on set looked sideways.
"You have been to Compton?"
"Of course!" Jones snorted grumpily. "Back then, Eazy-E was just a kid, often chased down the street by hookers wielding high heels because he couldn't pay."
The nggas burst into laughter.
As children of Compton, they had been influenced by the legendary experiences of N.W.A since childhood, but never heard that Eazy-E had such an embarrassing experience.
However, the bombshell Jones brought didn't stop there. He pointed to his daughter behind him and said, "Kidada dated Tupac for a while."
"What?!"
As soon as these words were said, the set exploded.
If N.W.A were the pioneers of gangsta rap, then Tupac was the flag-bearer who pushed this musical form to its peak.
"Father..." Kidada frowned, seemingly unwilling to mention this experience.
Jones ignored his daughter's dissuasion and continued, "They were originally at the point of getting engaged, but you all should know what happened in 1996..."
Speaking of this, Kidada abandoned her father's wheelchair directly, ran to a corner, took out a cigarette, and started smoking.
The nggas on set whispered to each other, and Kendrick cursed out loud: "Fxxk those villains who shoot from the dark!"
Leon stood aside without saying a word, completely unmoved by Old Jones's emotional appeal.
Using his daughter's scars to get close to the nggas on set was simply too shameless.
Moreover, almost everyone in the circle knew that Diddy sent people to murder Tupac, yet Old Jones frequently attended Diddy's orgies.
For profit, he could leave everything behind, shameless to the extreme.
When filming started again, due to Old Jones's presence, the number of NGs obviously increased a lot.
"Boseman, watch your emotions. Dre wasn't hot-tempered when he was young; he wouldn't clash head-on with Ice Cube."
"Stop, reshoot this part! Eazy-E wouldn't get jealous over women! Between homies, it's always playing with women together!"
To make the characters in the movie closer to the prototypes, his mouth hadn't stopped from beginning to end.
Seeing Old Jones getting more and more excited, even wanting to modify the original script, Leon quickly signaled James Wan: "Let's call it a day..."
After filming ended, instead of letting Old Jones go back to the hotel first, Leon kept him to continue discussing the movie plot.
They went to Robinson's house.
For the whole afternoon, Jones gave orders on set, delaying the shooting process not to mention causing thousands of dollars of film waste.
Leon thought it was time to reveal his true purpose to him, regarding that crucial hip-hop magazine.
Robinson's big house was still lively. More than twenty men and women gathered here, making it look like a dormitory.
But regardless of gender, they all had one thing in common—a Glock tucked in their waists.
Just like the last time Leon saw Robinson, this ngga was still leaning on the sofa, grinding on the GTA: San Andreas flight school mission that seemed impossible to pass.
Seeing Leon, he immediately threw away the game controller and greeted warmly: "Long time no see, My bro~"
After hugging, he immediately noticed Old Jones sitting in the wheelchair.
Leon just wanted to introduce them, but the two were already hugging each other.
"Haven't seen you for almost ten years, Mr. Jones."
"I didn't expect the mysterious friend Leon mentioned was actually you... I'm simply too surprised."
Watching the intimate moment of the two old friends meeting, Leon scratched his head in confusion and asked, "You guys... know each other?"
"Of course. In the 90s, Mr. Jones often came to Compton, looking for those young nggas with rap talent. Wherever there was the stench of money, he would appear."
"Unfortunately, he failed to find the next Tupac in the end."
Facing this slightly sarcastic praise, Jones laughed awkwardly twice.
The gangsta rap craze of the 90s successfully made those nggas mixing on the streets in the slums into hot commodities.
Catching this trend, those hooligans with nothing suddenly had the chance to get rich overnight.
The income from working, stealing, or even dealing drugs couldn't compare to the attraction of rap for them!
Not long after exchanging greetings, Robinson went around behind Kidada and whispered a few words.
Unknown what he said, Kidada's face instantly flushed, looking shy.
Robinson asked all the unrelated underlings in the room to go back to their rooms, and he started fiddling with the bar tools, showing off his bartending skills.
Taking advantage of the waiting interval, Leon went to his side and whispered, "How exactly did you and Jones meet?"
Robinson perfunctorily said, "Didn't I tell you? He often hung out in Compton in the 90s... looking for the 'gold mine' he dreamed of."
"Cut the crap, I can tell you and that Black girl definitely have some secrets..."
After being seen through, Robinson stopped pretending and threw out the answer simply: "I slept with his daughter. In 1996, she even had two abortions for me."
Leon laughed out loud. Combining their previous ambiguous behavior, it was indeed just as he guessed.
But he quickly realized something was wrong. "You mean 1996?"
"That's right, I remember very clearly. We did it on the midnight streets, in my drug lab, even in a cop's car."
"WTF..." Leon's heart was hard to calm, not because of these outrageous battle locations.
1996 was exactly when Kidada and Tupac were passionately in love.
After a moment of silence, he couldn't help asking, "You mean you cuckolded Tupac?"
"No no no..." Robinson shook his finger. "To be precise, between us, Tupac was the latecomer. Old Jones sent his daughter to Tupac like a whxxe for profit."
"I don't understand why you brought Jones to me. If not for the fact that this fat-brained old bastard is about to meet God, I probably wouldn't give him a pleasant face."