Maggie and Robbie's three-year agency contract was set to expire early next year. In Leon's eyes, this snobbish middle-aged woman was small potatoes—just an ordinary cog in the CAA partnership system serving their biggest cash cow, Robbie.
However, the power behind her, CAA, was immense. After more than thirty years of development, this company was no longer just a simple talent agency; it was a massive platform integrating entertainment, sports, business, and culture.
Beyond agency services, CAA was involved in venue operation and design, having managed many world-famous venues like London's O2 Arena and the Staples Center in Los Angeles. These businesses made CAA a cross-industry commercial giant. Even when retired Presidents wanted to go on speaking tours to rake in cash, CAA was the top choice for agency services.
Its mysterious and low-profile founder, Michael Ovitz, accumulated powerful political capital because of this. Furthermore, he was the pioneer of the "packaging" model, which made it easier for CAA artists to secure box office backend points during salary negotiations.
The attitude of this agency, which held a near-monopoly position in Hollywood, toward its artists could be summarized in one sentence: Easy to get in, hard to get out.
"What kind of tricks did that bastard Braun use to steal people from CAA?" Leon tossed and turned in bed.
Robbie was no longer a third-rate actress. She had released two smash hits back-to-back, Faded and We Don't Talk Anymore, taking whatever she wanted at the top of the Billboard charts.
In her film career, she had collaborated with Leonardo DiCaprio twice, starring in The Wolf of Wall Street and The Great Gatsby, and Skyfall, in which she played a "Bond Girl," was highly likely to be released next year.
The key point was that she was only 21 this year. At this rate of growth, as long as the box office numbers for these three movies weren't too ugly, she would definitely secure her place among Hollywood's A-listers and easily grab a membership card to the "$20 Million Club".
An actress of this caliber was a rare existence even for a company like CAA.
Leon fiddled with his phone, typing the name of the current president, Richard Lovett, into the Google search bar. There wasn't much news about him online; the search results were all information known to industry insiders.
But when he clicked on his Wiki page, the answer became instantly clear—the ethnicity column boldly stated: Jewish.
Obviously, Richard was also a member of the "Hollywood Jewish Gang," and undoubtedly a core figure within it. This explained why he was willing to open doors for Braun's SB Projects.
"Damn Jewish clique...".
Leon felt both angry and amused; it seemed he didn't get along happily with any Jewish big shots in the entire entertainment industry, practically possessing a "Public Enemy of the Jews" attribute.
---
At nine o'clock the next morning, he took a commercial van and arrived early at Yankee Stadium.
Sean was one step ahead of him, pinching his throat and shouting at the dancers rehearsing on stage, "Move it, bitches! Bigger movements! Fck, I paid $200,000 to get you here, and you're just phoning it in? You aren't this reserved when you're fishing for sugar daddies at the club!".
Smack—The dancers' laziness was too much for him, so he rushed onto the stage and slapped the lead black girl's heavy "tail lights" hard.
The girl cried out in pain and hurriedly throttled up to full horsepower, shaking her body vigorously.
"That's right, bitches! Listen, this is the premiere of Cardi's new song WAP; I don't want any accidents during the live broadcast!" Sean revealed a smug smile.
The scene of more than thirty girls with their backs to the audience, twerking in unison, was shocking even to Leon, who had seen his fair share of things. Compared to this scene, even action movies from Brazzers paled in comparison.
He walked silently to the bottom of the stage, arms crossed. "A magnificent stage. This segment will definitely be rewound and watched repeatedly by many viewers.".
Hearing the familiar voice, Sean quickly turned around. The arrogance he just showed the girls completely vanished, replaced by a bowing, fawning smile. "Boss, rest assured, I will ensure every detail of tonight's live broadcast is perfect.".
"Good work. Maybe next year you'll have a chance to stand on the Emmy podium.".
Leon patted him on the shoulder and turned to walk backstage, bumping right into King Von in the tunnel.
"Rare sight. I thought a ngga like you would sleep until the afternoon.". Leon had a love-hate relationship with King Von. Even after leaving his base in Chicago, Von never rested for a moment, hitting up major Brooklyn nightclubs with Lil Durk every night and often getting into conflicts with others over flirting with girls.
Fortunately, due to Leon's reputation in Brooklyn and his fierce performance in the "Chicago shooting incident," these conflicts never escalated into violence.
Although he was always causing trouble, he showed extreme loyalty to Leon. He didn't allow anyone to speak ill of his boss in front of him, and the internet was no exception. Whenever someone insulted Leon in his comments section, he would tirelessly DM them one by one: "Where the fck you at, ngga? Dare to meet in real life?".
Now everyone in the music industry knew—King Von was a mad dog kept by Leon.
"Boss! I can't wait! There's an energy inside me ready to burst out!" Von rubbed his fists together excitedly. "Wait and see my performance! Tonight I'm gonna go Super Saiyan and turn those opponents into dust!".
"I believe you can do it.".
As the show's producer, Leon interacted warmly with Von, completely ignoring the other two contestants in the finals.
The two contestants from New Orleans and Dallas watched this scene, grinding their back molars in anger. "Bro, we look like two fools. This show is darker than the presidential election...".
"Tell me about it, Bro." The other black contestant spread his hands helplessly. "Look at that Chicago skinny monkey with the dreads. I heard that new song Panda wasn't written by him at all; it was a gift from Leon.".
"WTF? Is that true, Bro?".
Adam, the rapper from New Orleans, stood up in shock. Using a ghostwriter is a shameful act in the rap circle, a cardinal sin alongside "snitching".
However, rather than anger, what he felt more was jealousy. Everyone knew the gold content of Leon's works; they were gold mines that could allow an ordinary person to jump social classes.
King Von, who came from O-Block, the lowest community in Chicago, would soon be wearing Gucci, sporting a Rolex, driving the latest Lamborghini, and walking the red carpet at major music awards with the hottest girls in Brooklyn....
Thinking of this, the two runner-up rappers nearly shattered their teeth. Coming from the bottom themselves, they would rather struggle at the bottom for a lifetime than see someone in the same situation strike it rich.
"Fck, I really want to rush up and beat his ass!".
"Are you crazy, homie? That kid is Leon's man!".
"You think I'm scared?" Adam looked calm and confident. "So what if it's Leon? Don't forget I also signed with Young Money; my boss is Lil Wayne!".
Their voices grew louder, and King Von heard the provocation in their words.
He whipped his head around, walked up to them, throwing up gang signs. "Keep it down, you two damn losers. If you don't shut up, I'll shut you up with my dck!".
"What did you say?!" Adam from New Orleans stood up, their foreheads pressed together, neither giving an inch. "If you want to fight, try it!".
Before he could finish his sentence, King Von rushed forward, strangling his neck with both hands.
No talking, just action!.
Adam immediately realized this was a fight to the death. His rich street experience allowed him to make a quick decision—counterattack with the same method. The two strangled each other's necks, wrestling like fighting dogs, their black faces turning a deep purple.
"Sht! They want to kill each other!" The Dallas contestant froze, holding his head and looking at Leon for help.
Two contestants about to compete for the championship in the finals were brawling backstage. Faced with such a farce, Leon didn't show a trace of panic. He even maintained a smile, like a plantation owner watching slaves engage in "Mandingo fighting".
He waved his hand to call the cameraman over. "Are you an idiot? Why are you just standing there? Turn on the camera! Putting this clip in the bloopers should be very interesting.".
"Got it, got it...".
After the cameraman filmed for more than ten seconds, Leon felt it was about enough.
Just as he was about to shout for them to stop, something unexpected happened—King Von, who was at a physical disadvantage and losing ground, used all his strength to stretch his head forward and bit down hard on the other guy's ear.
"Ahhh!" Adam immediately let go, covering his ear and screaming miserably as fresh blood seeped through his fingers. King Von spat out a piece of human tissue from his mouth, and like a red-eyed pit bull, he continued to charge at the opponent relentlessly.
"Enough!".
Leon signaled Jorge with his eyes. The tall and burly Mexican Hammer understood immediately, reaching out his large hand to put King Von in a chokehold from behind.
"Von, the boss said stop.".
Hearing this sentence, Von's racing adrenaline finally calmed down.
"M-Fcker!! You should be glad I didn't bring a weapon, ngga!" Von touched his neck and walked away, not forgetting to provoke him as he left.
Jorge looked at Leon, shaking his head with a helpless smile. He had mixed on the streets for half his life and seen many desperadoes. But a crazy kid like King Von, who acted without considering the consequences and was ready to risk his life over a few words, was a rare breed.
---
At 5 PM, all rehearsals stopped, and the audience began filing into Yankee Stadium.
Backstage, the atmosphere was relaxed and happy. Leon cracked jokes with his friends, waiting for the show to officially start.
Aside from the West Coast rappers led by Eminem and the mentors, Jeff and James Wan also put down their work and flew in from Los Angeles. As partners of SLW Apocalypse, they were there to witness Leon complete an unprecedented feat in the history of American reality TV.
"I have to go on stage." Kim Kardashian held her cue cards, fanning the cleavage on her chest to cool down. "This is my first time doing a live broadcast of this scale.".
50 Cent whispered to Eminem beside him, "Damn... Can you believe it, Bro? This woman says she's nervous in front of a camera?".
The two covered their mouths, almost laughing out loud as the image of Kim actively holding the camera for a selfie in her famous sex tape floated through their minds.
"Don't be nervous, baby. I'll be right by your side." Kanye looked at her with blurry eyes and deep affection, acting like a black Romeo.
The two walked out of the backstage area with fingers interlocked, and the other mentors followed.
Kim adjusted her breathing and used her sweet voice to announce the official start of the The Rap of America finals—the first streaming hip-hop talent show in history, spanning nearly three months.
The lights suddenly dimmed, leaving only dry ice fog swirling around. The three mentors slowly rose from the bottom of the stage on lifts, and nearly fifty dancers from the New York City Ballet jumped onto the stage.
The opening show officially began!.
The three connected their representative works into a medley. Kanye and 50 Cent chose mostly Old School tracks, paying tribute to the golden age of rap music.
This musical style, born in the late 70s and early 80s, is considered the beginning of rap music. The focus of Old School rap isn't on complex lyrical techniques, but more on the rhythm that brings parties and good times. Beyond entertainment, it was also a cold weapon used to expose a society filled with corruption and darkness.
The strong, deep drum beats hit the audience's hearts, and everyone swayed along; the pure flavor made people dream back to the streets of Brooklyn in the 90s.
When the last drum beat fell, the performance wasn't over. Kanye and 50 Cent bumped fists and left the stage one after another.
The dancers of the City Ballet rotated quickly. Ten seconds later, the stage was stuffed with "tail lights" of all shapes and colors, wrapped in smoke, rushing straight at the audience!.
Cardi B, having completed her costume change, crawled on all fours on the stage, wrapped in a leopard print bodysuit, making an explosive entrance!.
"Wet ass pssy... Wet ass pssy~".
Since it was the first public performance of the new song, the audience, unfamiliar with the melody, looked at each other in blank dismay for a few seconds. But it didn't take long for them to be conquered by the dirty and catchy chorus. The girls went completely wild, screaming along with Cardi: "Wet ass pssy!".
"Is this the aesthetic of the current music industry?" Jeff sat backstage with a cigar in his mouth, shocked by the explicit lyrics.
"It seems the music industry is always at the forefront of the times; movies have to keep up." Leon shrugged in response.
"Movies at the forefront of the times?" James Wan rarely chimed in with a dirty joke. "Are you talking about the kind burned onto DVDs, or the kind lying in the D drive?".
"Look at this Asian kid; I knew he wasn't as honest as he looks on the surface." Jeff pointed at him and laughed.
After Cardi B's performance ended, the three finalists officially took the stage.
After a round of competition, King Von advanced with an absolute lead in votes. In the final showdown, he would face Adam, whose ear was wrapped in gauze.
Enemies see red when they meet. After guest performer Eminem finished, King Von was the first to take the stage.
He was shirtless, revealing the messy and distorted tattoos on his body, his head bobbing up and down to the drum beat like he was banging a drum. Suddenly, he lifted his head, grabbed the microphone, and roared: "I like snatching meat in the jungle! Because I come from the real bottom! M-Fck!".
"Von! Von! Von!".
After three barks, the accompaniment suddenly dropped in key, changing from the previous impassioned vibe to something gloomy and psychedelic.
Panda, Panda, Panda, Panda, Panda, Panda, Panda.
I got broads in Atlanta.
Twisting dope, lean, and the Fanta.
Going out like I'm Montana.
Hundred killers, hundred hammers.
"Holy sht..." Kanye West stared wide-eyed, praising it repeatedly. Due to scheduling conflicts, he had missed multiple rehearsals, so this was his first time hearing Panda.
Every one of King Von's barks felt like it was tearing at his heart. He clearly realized the rap circle was about to welcome another powerful supernova.
"That's amazing, Bro. Did that Chicago skinny monkey really write this song?".
Kendrick took over the conversation: "How is that possible? Without Leon, he wouldn't write a song like this in his life. That broke ngga hasn't even seen what the interior of a BMW X6 looks like.".
"Is that so?" Kanye asked.
To maintain the reputation of his artist, Leon pretended to be mysterious. "I prepared the ingredients and spices; he just needed to put them in the pot.".
Kanye listened in confusion for a while, then gave a thumbs up in praise. "That's what top chefs do. You're just like Gordon Ramsay.".
On stage, King Von was completely high on the performance. After the second chorus ended, he rushed straight into the audience and stage-dived. Dozens of hands held him high, passing him back and forth in the sea of people until he returned to the stage.
Because he was having too much fun, there was a large section of lyrics he didn't sing at all, leaving it blank. In terms of stage presence, it was undoubtedly top-tier, but for a competition, it was a major taboo.
But King Von didn't seem to care at all. After singing, he panted heavily while shouting into the microphone at the camera.
"I carry the blood of Chicago, started from O-Block, and it only took less than a year... Now I'm standing in Yankee Stadium. Do you believe it?".
"Yeah!" The audience responded loudly to his "microphone bomb".
King Von continued: "You think I want to tell some inspirational story? No! I didn't work hard to get all this! Talent alone is enough to fill my stomach!".
As his voice fell, the audience was silent for two seconds, then erupted into even louder cheers.
"Hold on~ Hold on." He made a pause gesture. "Besides talent, I also want to thank my boss, Street Jesus Leon Smith, the hardest man on the East Coast! The great King of Brooklyn!".
"Leon! Leon! Leon!" The audience chanted the name of this new King of Brooklyn for a full minute.
"A lot of impotent, furious bastards say I was rigged to be the champion long ago. That is simply ridiculous..." Von shook his head, and after more than ten seconds of silence, he suddenly snapped:.
"But I want to say, even if that's true, so what? Listen! We are the shady business you have to face!".
"M-Fckers!!".
After spraying his trash talk, he didn't hesitate to smash the microphone onto the ground. Raising both fists high, he fully enjoyed the thirty thousand spectators chanting the name of the champion.