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With the joint efforts of Leon and Jorge, the 16-inch pizza was quickly polished off. Leon wiped his mouth, threaded through the procession of protesters, and returned to his office.
The TV was broadcasting a live CNN interview with the protesters. Unemployed workers were filled with righteous indignation, passionately railing against unemployment rates, corruption, and the wealth gap.
Leon fiddled with a deck of poker cards while listening to the reporter's on-air conversation with a politician. The content was filled with irrelevant, templated clichés that made people yawn just listening to it.
A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door.
"Come in."
Phil walked in wearing an indigo suit, his red tie neatly arranged, his slicked-back hair shiny and smooth.
Typically, he only appeared in this full getup under two circumstances: either he had secretly climbed into a single mom's bed, or a stock he invested in had experienced a rare surge.
"First of all, I have to congratulate you. Last night's live broadcast of the finals was very successful. You made those traditional TV giants feel unprecedented panic; the entire TV entertainment industry is discussing your name." Phil sat down opposite Leon. "It's just a pity I couldn't witness this epic moment live. Don't you want to know where I went last night?"
Leon didn't care about the other party's itinerary at all and said casually, "Hanging out with some aging streetwalker in Manhattan Beach? Making some far-fetched promises in exchange for a few free screws? That's all I can come up with."
"Is that the image I have in your eyes?" Phil shook his head while laughing. "I went to Silicon Valley yesterday. I chatted with the cyberpunk freaks at Tesla headquarters for over an hour. Elon Musk agreed to modify his recent schedule to meet with you."
"Very good." Leon's eyes lit up as he tossed the poker cards aside.
Elon Musk's fame far exceeded his wealth; he shook Silicon Valley with a series of unconstrained ideas.
This point bore a striking resemblance to Leon—fame greater than actual strength.
If the cooperation between the music madman and the tech madman could be achieved, regardless of how many Tesla products could be sold, the hype would definitely be maxed out.
Phil noticed the chirping voices of the female reporter and the politician on the TV and lit a cigarette. "This country will be torn in half by these bastards sooner or later. Barack's Jobs Act miscarried. In the future, there will be more and more homeless people on the streets who have lost their jobs. The people at the bottom will soon have to worry about the prices of eggs and gasoline. It would be ridiculous if such a thing really happened in the world's number one economy."
"This might not be a bad thing for you. At least it means there will be more and more girls earning money on the streets," Leon said with a cold smile.
On August 3rd of this year, President Barack officially signed the bill to raise the debt ceiling, which had been passed by both houses, temporarily alleviating the US debt crisis.
Previously, the Donkey and Elephant parties staged a farce of vetoing each other's votes in the Senate and the House of Representatives. Finally, under the coordination of Senate Minority Leader McConnell and Majority Leader Charlie, a compromise was reached before the deadline.
The act of issuing debt to "eat next year's food this year" shifted part of the burden to the global market. However, ten days ago, the proposal for the "$447 Billion Jobs Act" incurred strong dissatisfaction from the Elephant Party. This was the only economic effort in President Barack's career so far.
This failure led right-wing media to mock him as "one of the world's least influential people."
A series of events indicated that Barack's control was insufficient, and an "oligarchy" pattern was forming within the Donkey Party.
It also marked that the conflict between the Donkeys and Elephants was developing in an irreconcilable direction.
"It's good that you care about politics. Public figures are the most valuable propaganda tools in the eyes of those politicians." Phil suddenly became serious. "But I have to remind you, you must keep a comfortable distance from politics. It's the same principle as dating girls: you can't be too eager, nor too distant."
"Do you think I need you to lecture me on this?" Leon shrugged.
If not for the strange "friendship" with Charlie, he wouldn't even want to touch any political activities.
But from the moment he chose to enter the game personally and use Charlie's iron fist to overturn Diddy, he was already stuck in this quagmire.
Now, he could only accumulate as many cards as possible to avoid ending up like Michael Jackson.
After Phil left, he called Bonnie into the office and instructed her to schedule the meeting with Elon Musk.
"Damn..."
Just thinking about the itinerary he had to face in the next ten days or so gave Leon a headache. Not only did he have to deal with performances and business negotiations, but he also had to participate in a meaningless charity poker tournament.
To bleed a little less at the charity tournament in a week, he searched on his computer for the legendary "GTO strategy," a surefire technique for Texas Hold'em.
The essence of the GTO strategy is the maximization of expected value (EV), flexibly adjusting one's strategy by precisely calculating the bluff-to-value ratio and rationally applying concepts like pot odds and break-even points.
At first glance, it was even more complex than Game Theory.
But these obscure vocabulary terms only made Leon want to laugh. When facing a boss like Jordan, so-called strategies were completely useless.
It was like a wage earner betting their entire net worth against the boss in an all-in showdown. The boss wouldn't consider folding at all; he was just gambling with pocket money against your entire fortune. This couldn't even be considered a game.
Just as Leon was worrying about how to lose less money at the charity tournament, Anya walked into the office led by Bonnie.
An hour ago, Leon had Jorge drive to pick her up from JFK Airport.
In recent days, she had suffered from negative news attacks. The young girl who had just entered the entertainment industry felt the pressure of being a public figure for the first time.
Taking advantage of the The Witch crew's day off, she finally had a rare bit of rest time and returned to New York immediately.
Seeing that Anya's state hadn't changed much from before—still looking a bit dazed—Leon felt relieved.
Although this girl was only 15, her daily words and deeds showed that she wasn't someone easily swayed by emotions.
Leon brewed a cup of black tea and handed it to her. "I know you British chicks don't like coffee. Try this."
Tea originated in the East and profoundly influenced the beverage cultures of multiple countries.
The British desire for tea consumption is beyond imagination, reaching the level of treating tea as life itself.
Drinking a cup of black tea with exquisite pastries while wearing a beautiful dress at 4 PM is considered a symbol of high society.
This tradition has been preserved to this day, and "Afternoon Tea" has become a way for urban women worldwide to show off their exquisite lives.
Rumor has it that a war involving an indemnity of 20 million taels of silver more than 100 years ago was partly triggered by the huge trade deficit caused by importing tea to Britain. They chose to dump opium to solve the problem.
"Thank you, you are so thoughtful." The meticulous care warmed Anya's heart. She took the delicate porcelain bowl and took a sip.
"How is it?"
"The aroma is very rich."
Anya furrowed her brows, revealing a puzzled expression. Growing up in a wealthy family, she had been influenced by tea culture since childhood and could easily taste the quality of tea leaves.
After savoring it carefully in her mouth for a few seconds, her expression became even more puzzled. "A very familiar yet strange taste. No sugar or honey added?"
"This isn't Indian Ceylon black tea," Leon said. "This is a serious import from the East. What you're tasting is the original flavor of the tea leaves and the production process."
"Although it's not the taste I'm used to, I like it very much." Anya nodded. "My dad told me that the East is the birthplace of tea."
"That's right." Leon curled his lips into a wicked grin. "If you want to drive an Italian crazy quickly, serve him pineapple pizza; similarly, if you want to drive an Easterner crazy, adding sugar to tea will definitely make them go nuts."
The two chatted about the differences in tea culture for a while. He was surprised to find that Anya's knowledge reserve was much richer than he imagined.
Although it was the wealthy girl's first time personally tasting Eastern tea, having received aristocratic education since childhood, she could casually discuss the differences and historical evolution between Eastern, British, and Japanese tea ceremonies.
When it came to the differences in production processes for different tea varieties, Leon completely lost the thread of the conversation; this was his blind spot.
Originally wanting to show off in front of the girl, he didn't expect to be schooled instead.
He could only quickly change the subject and ask, "How was your first filming experience? You didn't encounter any trouble on set, did you?"
"Not at all!" Anya's face was full of joy. "Our crew is full of cool guys. Director Robert often calls everyone together after wrapping up to share those interesting folklore stories..."
"Interesting?" Leon immediately associated it with the longevity recipe composed of virgin blood and corpses. "That weirdo's head is full of perverted, grotesque stories. Aren't you scared?"
Anya shook her head calmly. "Director Robert's stories always scare everyone out of their wits, but I find them very interesting! He bet with me that after this vacation, he would definitely bring a story that could scare me!"
"Alright."
Leon shrugged with a smile. As he got to know her better, he felt more and more that this girl was even more interesting than he imagined.
This completely put his mind at ease, and he asked about the recent scandal.
"I have solemnly warned those bastard reporters at The Hollywood Reporter. If they publish false reports about you in the future, get ready to face a lawsuit." Leon walked over to Anya with the porcelain bowl, patted her shoulder, and comforted her, "This matter will pass soon; it won't continue to bother you."
"Thank you for doing all this for me..." A blush quietly crept onto Anya's pretty face as she whispered, "Actually, this matter didn't bother me much. I almost laughed out loud when I read that news for the first time. How did they write such a bizarre story?"
"What?" This answer really confused Leon. "But didn't Robert say you were feeling very low for a while after seeing the news report?"
"That was because I was worried about you..." Anya's voice was so faint it was just a breath.
"Me?" Leon was even more baffled.
"Yes, I was worried that you and Miss Taylor would be affected by this news."
"Okay... you absolutely don't need to worry about that. Taylor and I have experienced many situations more despicable and complex than this."
Leon realized he had still underestimated the young girl's psychological resilience. Sometimes, ignorance isn't a weakness, but the perfect defense.
During the interval of their chat, the noise of the demonstration on the street gradually faded.
The protesters broke through the police blockade, rushed out of downtown Brooklyn, and continued north, attempting to cross the Brooklyn Bridge and point their swords at Manhattan.
Leon glanced down at his watch. The hour hand pointed to 5 PM; it would be off-work time soon.
Taylor had been busy with her tour recently, and Ariana's mind had become unpredictable again. Without a woman by his side, his life had become a bit dull.
Most of the time, he could only lie alone in the empty big house.
Thinking of this, he extended an invitation to Anya: "It's rare for the crew to have a break. How about having dinner together later, or watching a movie to find some acting inspiration?"
"Sure..." The words were on the tip of her tongue, but Anya swallowed them back.
Her heart thumped: Does this count as a date?
She fell into an internal struggle. After the scandal with Leon fermented, even her parents far away on the other side of the Atlantic were affected.
Not long after The Hollywood Reporter went on sale that day, she received continuous phone bombardments from her parents.
Although they were very reassured about their daughter's character, they dared not take the notorious Street Jesus lightly.
Since his debut last summer, Leon's name had never left the tabloid pages.
With their daughter working under such a scandalous playboy, no parents could say they were completely at ease.
They warned repeatedly on the phone: "Baby, you're only 15. You must focus on your career, focus on acting, and keep a distance from that rude American! If you are wronged, come home anytime!"
Her inner voice guided Anya to say "Yes" to Leon, but in the end, her parents' warnings gained the upper hand.
"Maybe another day. My acting has many shortcomings; I have an acting training class later."
She made up a random excuse and left in a hurry.
Just as Leon was also preparing to leave the company, an unexpected figure appeared.
Robbie walked in wearing sunglasses, chewing gum, accompanied by two assistants.
She smiled while chewing gum. "Did I come at a bad time?"
"How could you?" Leon shook his head. "Just a bit surprised. Didn't you say your flight was tomorrow morning?"
"Can't I come early? Just in time to see which girls you've been fooling around with lately." Robbie waved her hand to signal the two assistants to leave. "Was that girl I saw when I came in the lead actress you handpicked for Ready Player One?"
"You met Anya?"
"That's right, but I was wearing sunglasses; she didn't seem to recognize me." Robbie revealed a wicked smile. "That girl looked very nervous, her face flushed red. Are you two really in that kind of relationship, like the media reported?"
"Fck, I don't understand what you're talking about. That girl is only 15," Leon immediately retorted.
"Okay, I was just joking~" Robbie waved her hand. "Seriously, remember what I told you the other day?"
"Of course. Tell me what exactly is going on." Leon sat up straight and asked, "Maggie contacted other agencies privately. You should tell Lovett about this and fire that greedy woman."
"This isn't just about Maggie."
"I guess this was CAA President Lovett's idea in the first place, right?" Leon curled his lips into a smile.
Things seemed to be just as he had thought online the day before yesterday. Lovett, also Jewish, had reached some kind of private agreement with Braun to transfer Robbie's contract to SB Projects.
To bypass the Screen Actors Guild's (SAG) 10% cap on agent commissions, CAA founder Ovitz created the "packaging" model.
Integrating upstream resources, they provided artists with a full set of services including film and TV resources, commercial performances, and endorsements.
Moving closer to the artist management company model, they advocated a "full-service" model that comprehensively surpassed the "agent contract."
This innovation allowed CAA to rise rapidly. Other Hollywood agencies also imitated its model, and the packaging model became the mainstream in the industry today.
There are no exclusive agents within the company. Each artist is served by 4-5 agents, responsible for commercial performances, endorsements, film and TV, daily services, and other aspects. Maggie was just the leader of this small team.
When Robbie was still a third-rate actress, Maggie always put on a pretentious, arrogant attitude.
Now the situation had reversed. With Robbie's current status, she could apply to CAA anytime to kick Maggie out of the team.
Changing agencies was obviously not something Maggie's position could decide.
"Lovett did talk to me privately, but he didn't say it explicitly. He just told me Braun could give me top-tier resources," Robbie said.
"He's already made his stance clear; he just dared not speak too plainly," Leon sneered.
Like almost all large enterprises, the president is mostly just a professional manager, not the actual owner of the company.
CAA's largest shareholder is TPG Capital, one of the largest private equity firms in the US.
Even if Lovett had reached a backdoor deal worth tens of millions of dollars with Braun privately, he dared not openly do such a thing as stealing from his own company.
"I know you don't like Braun, so SB Projects is not within my consideration." Robbie rested her chin on her hand and smiled.
Hearing this declaration, Leon revealed a smug smile.
Despite a series of arguments and the farce of her best friend intruding, Robbie's heart had always stood with him.
This also meant that after Robbie's contract with CAA expired next year, nine times out of ten she would fall into his hands, achieving comprehensive control over her acting and singing career.
At the same time, Leon realized a serious problem—from Ariana to Taylor to Robbie, Braun seemed very interested in every woman around him.
He gritted his teeth secretly in his heart: This Jew really has a death wish...
Although he never lacked opponents in the circle, most only dared to be fierce with their mouths.
Aside from Diddy, no one else had been rampant enough to stick their face in his and ult repeatedly like Braun.